My sense of optimism seeped away like air from a punctured balloon. Thank God I’d involved the police or we’d have been royally screwed. It would be down to Elliot’s men now to try to sort the courier from the crowd. “Damn.”
“What now?” Patrick asked.
“There’s nothing we can do, but hope the police were at a better angle than we were. I’m going back to the Rest to wait with Amanda to see if we hear from the kidnapper again. I may just have lost twenty thousand pounds and our victim.”
“It’s not over yet,” Patrick soothed.
The rich food from earlier was churning around in my stomach and I felt nauseous. “What am I supposed to tell Amanda? She was counting on me. And Nora. She may be without a mother after this.” If the police weren’t on top of this, it could be a disaster. And if they were, the kidnapper could’ve been tipped off that I’d called the authorities in. Either way, not good.
“You did the best you could. Come on. I’ll drive you back to the Rest.”
We retraced our steps back to La Mer, retrieved Patrick’s car, and drove through the quiet residential streets to the shelter. Patrick dropped me at my car. I saw a familiar black sedan parked along the block with the driver slumped down behind the wheel. I didn’t mention it to Patrick and insisted he go home to bed. There was nothing more to be done tonight. I texted Trish to see if she was still at Ross’s place. She replied immediately, as if she’d been waiting to hear from me.
Back at Rest. Need to chat. Where are you?
Outside. Meet me in the backyard.
On my way.
I was frustrated, tired, and angry. This day hadn’t gone at all according to plan. I was tired of dodging the shadow. He was lousy at what he was doing and I’d climbed in and out of enough windows for one day. I walked along the street, heading straight for the driver’s window, intending to challenge him head-on. As I caught his eye, he realized he’d been sussed. He waited until I was almost on top of him before flinging his door open violently and catching me full force in the chest, knocking me to the ground. I saw stars for a moment before everything went black.
The next thing I saw was Trish peering into my face. Subtle as always, she was wearing trainers, pink flannel pajama pants, and a hooded sweatshirt with a cat wearing reading glasses on the front. “What happened? I was waiting for you,” she demanded, helping me to sit up in the middle of the road.
“Ran into a car door,” I muttered, feeling my ribs for signs of damage.
“This sleuthing business’s all go, isn’t it,” she enthused. “No wonder you like it so much.”
I wasn’t enjoying it so much at the moment. I had a headache from hitting the road and I’d had the wind knocked out of me, but all in all it could’ve been worse. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the night’s events. It had been a fiasco and I felt like a rank amateur; worse, a failure.
“You sure you’re okay?” Trish asked as she helped me limp across the street to the shelter.
“I’m fine, I just need to rest for a minute—out here,” I insisted as Trish tried to lead me through the back door into the kitchen. I wasn’t ready to see Amanda just yet. I sank down onto a stone bench by the potting shed. “Tell me what you found out.”
“A lot. It was pretty quiet around the house this afternoon, so I had a bit of a snoop around my fellow inmates’ rooms while they were out.”
“I hope you were careful.”
“ ’Course I was. Wasn’t much to see, though. Poor kids don’t have much. Most walked off with nowt but the clothes on their backs. Beyond that, booze and tranquilizers seem to be the common thread.”
“How did it go at the Rosses’?”
“Her ladyship bolted out the door as soon as I got there. Seemed to be in a big hurry.”
“Don’t suppose she said where she was going?”
“Not a chance. She looked right through me like I was part of the furniture. Clearly not bothered one bit about who was staying with the bairns, who, by the way, are a right royal pain in the arse. Twenty quid an hour’s nowhere near enough. You should get hazard pay for that crew. One of the little darlings wacked me over the head with a replica light saber. I saw stars, I can tell you.”
I could relate. “Did you get a chance to look around the house?”
“I talked the kids into playing hide-and-seek. Me and the daughter against the two boys. By the end I think they’d shown me most of the best hiding spots in the house. Cupboards, attic, secret closet in their dad’s office, hidey-hole under the stairs. No sign of anyone being held there.”
I was impressed. Trish had shown more gumption than I would’ve credited her with. “Well done. I think it would have been risky to hide Sheila there, but you probably saw more than the police would’ve.”
Trish looked pleased. “I finally wrestled them into bed and got a few minutes to meself, and started to do a bit of lookin’ around on me own.”
Trish took a quick breath and then barreled on with her story. “The wife’s space was unbelievable. Never even imagined anyone could hav’ so many clothes and shoes. She had two giant closets, each of ’em bigger than me and my sister’s rooms combined. Racks and racks of clothes and shoes and bags. Get this, she had four pairs of red pumps that were identical. Four. Why would a person do that? I mean, I can see if you really like the style gettin’ it in different colors, but the exact same shoes?”
“Putting the fashion notes aside for a bit,” I insisted—knowing Trish, we could be in for a number of digressions from the topic de jour—“what did you find out?”
Trish seemed a bit bleary. She leaned back against the wall of the shed. “Right, well, I started in his room. Separate rooms, never a good sign,” she noted. “His space was very organized. Unnaturally so, if you ask me. All the hangers in his closet matched perfectly and they were spaced exactly the same width apart. Almost like someone had taken a ruler and measured. Creepy.”
“Did you find any pills anywhere?”
“You bet.” Trish pulled out her phone and consulted her notes app. “Propecia. I looked that up, supposed to grow hair.” She chuckled softly. “If you believe that I’ve got a bridge to sell ye. He also had the little blue middle-aged man candy, if you get my drift. Think they’re all at it. And the same cholesterol tablets me dad takes. That was it.”
“Nothing that said ‘Rohypnol’?”
“I saw that alright, but not in his bathroom.” Trish paused for dramatic effect. “In hers.”
“In Lila Ross’s bathroom? Was it her prescription?”
“Her name was on the bottle. So I figure it was hers.”
“Did you look at the dosing?”
“One tablet before bedtime. I looked that up, too. Apparently, doctors are giving it as a sleep aid in low doses.”
So Duncan Ross had ready access to the pills if he needed them. “Was the bottle full?”
“Aye and sealed, but I figure if there was an open one, the police probably took it, don’t ya think?”
Once again, Trish was right. The police would’ve taken an open bottle as evidence. Sleeping pills would be low dose, but if Ross used multiple tablets, it might do the trick. He must’ve used the Rohypnol on Burley to get the pictures he and Urquhart wanted. Did he give Jenny the same dose? What made Burley incoherent may well have been enough to kill Jenny, especially when combined with liquor and her Prozac.
“I’ve been reading about these date-rape drugs in the papers lately,” Trish added. “Did you know there’s a nail varnish you can use, and if you stick your finger in your glass it’ll change color if someone slipped you a mickey in a bar? Isn’t that wild? I should get us some for casework.”
I needed to head this conversation back to the rails. Trish and I were not about to be heading out on repeated casework.
“Did any of the girls say they couldn’t remember how they got back to the shelter, or what happened after being at the Rosses’?”
“When I got back from the gig at the Rosses’, Cheryl offered me a drink and we sat on her bed and chatted for a while.” Trish wrinkled her nose and looked up at the sky like she was trying to force the memory. “I don’t remember her sayin’ that anyone other than Jenny was woozy or nothin’. She did say that Randy Ross’s shenanigans really upset some of the girls and they wouldn’t go back. Others went ’cause they needed the money. Wouldn’t make sense to pay good money for services if your victims weren’t gonna remember the next day anyway, would it?”
“That’s a good point.” Trish’s storytelling style was rambling, but there were nuggets of truth buried in there. “What else did Cheryl have to say?”
“She was askin’ about me at first and I stuck to my story, but after the gin started to sink in, she started to talk about Jenny.”
That sounded promising. “What about her?”
“She showed me how she’d written Jenny’s mantra, ‘No More,’ on her own mirror as a tribute. She said she was going to try to be more like Jenny. Stronger and more in control of her own life. She’s still very cut up about the whole thing. While we were talkin’, Karen came in and joined us.”
“Did either of them mention sharing any secrets with Jenny?”
“No, they really only talked about that last night. Cheryl mentioned that Jenny had complained about Ross being all over her, but then she started crying again. Karen’s a tougher sort. Told Cheryl to buck up. Said all that blubbering wasn’t going to bring Jenny back. Karen seems real sure it was Ross’s fault. Don’t blame her. After all the shite they put up with, it must be nice to see him getting his comeuppance.”
“Did the girls have anything to say about Sheila?”
“All the girls are worried about her. No one’s tellin’ them anythin’, but they know somethin’s very wrong.”
“I hear the police have been asking questions.”
“Weird stuff about her and Ross. Like, if any of the girls’ve seen the two of them together, or if Sheila ever made babysittin’ arrangements for Ross. Choosin’ who goes to the house and such.”
Sounded like the police were still trying to link Sheila to Jenny’s death, but maybe things had change since the ransom note arrived. “Did the girls have anything to say about the other board members?”
“That Urquhart bloke they avoid like the plague. Don’t much like him. They all like Greer and Colin, but when Colin’s there he only has eyes for Amanda.”
“Is he there often?”
“Aye. Past month or so he’s stopped by most days either at the shop or the shelter. Amanda thinks no one knows, but the girls say you can see a mile away how they feel. They’re kind of protective of the two of them.” Trish’s voice was fading out. “I think it’s romantic,” she murmured.
I caught her yawning and she leaned her head back against the wall. One too many gins and a lot of excitement. For all my doubts, she’d actually dredged up some worthwhile information. If she could manage to not tip her hand, she could be a real asset.
As I sat debating whether to go in or wait for a bit, my cellphone rang. Michaelson’s number lit up the dial and I grabbed it, hoping for news.
“Where are you?” he demanded without preamble.
“Sitting in the yard at the shelter trying to figure out where my life went wrong,” I replied peevishly.
“I called Patrick’s and I called the Haven. We all thought you’d run off and done something stupid.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m doing nothing but waiting as instructed. What else can I do? What happened with Elliot and his men?”
“Thought they had a great line of sight for the drop and then a crowd of kids showed up. The undercover officers kept a close eye on who left. The envelope was a decent size but they didn’t see anyone taking off with it. It was gone from the drop location, of course. Right now they are going through the owner’s CCTV footage to see if any of the faces pop up as a match for anything but your average drunk college kid.”
“Could just as likely be one of the kids. They could have been paid to pick up the envelope and deliver it on to someone else.” Damn. I thought I was the one who screwed up. Edinburgh’s finest dropped the ball just as badly. “Any sign of a man in a cheap dark suit loitering around?”
“No, why?”
“I think I’m being followed by one of Urquhart’s people. A security guard from the law firm. Urquhart knows I’ve been asking questions about him and Sheila.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“I wanted to find out if he knew about the ransom. Patrick and I gave him the slip before we headed over to the drop. I figured if he didn’t know where to find us after he lost us, then it was a good bet he didn’t know a demand had been made.”
“You could’ve compromised the whole operation. And what the hell was Patrick doing there?”
“Watching my back.”
“That’s Elliot’s job.”
“So far I have to say I’m not impressed with his work.”
“Look, if one of those kids took the money, Elliot’ll figure out who and we still have the advantage of surprise because no one knows the police were involved.”
“You better hope they don’t. Now that you’ve grabbed the CCTV footage, the owner’s on alert, and he may already have told our scam artist if they were in on it together. Did the police search the restaurant after it closed?”
“Of course. Nothing.”
“Nothing but another tip-off.” Damn. “What am I supposed to do now?”
“Lay low and watch for the next communication from the kidnappers and pray for some better news.”
I hung up feeling worse than ever. I’d failed Amanda and the police had failed her. I knew she’d be awake and waiting to hear from me. I’d have to go and face the music.
I nudged Trish. “Time to get you back to bed before anyone notices you’re missing.” Trish groaned and sat up. She muttered a few choice words before slipping off the bench and stumbling sleepily into the house.
I followed behind and went in search of Amanda. I knocked on her office door and she opened it instantly, as if she’d been poised for my arrival. She pulled me inside and shut the door behind us.
“What’s happened? I’ve been frantic.”
I provided a short summary of the whole, sad, sorry mess.
Amanda put her hand to her mouth as if she was trying to stop herself from being physically ill. “Then we’ve lost the money, and we still have no idea where Sheila is or if we’ll ever see her again.”
I put an arm around her shoulder and led her to a chair, wrapping a shawl around her. The blood had left her face and she was swaying on her feet. I didn’t need her going into shock on me.
“What a disaster.” Amanda began to rock slowly back and forth. “Maybe you’re right, maybe we should’ve called the police,” she moaned. “What have I done?”
“You did what you thought was best. Even when you told the police you’d heard from Sheila,” I pointed out. Amanda looked down at her hands, refusing to meet my eyes. “But I had to do what I thought was best,” I continued. “Yesterday, I called my friend in Stirling—the detective inspector who gave the referral for Louisa. I told him we were reluctant to be seen going to the local authorities so he helped to liaise between me and the police here. I know you didn’t want that, but I really believed it was too risky to try to go it alone.”
“Thank you,” Amanda whispered. “For a moment there I thought I’d ruined everything. So where were the police in all this?”
“They were watching the drop site as well, but they were in the same boat we were. The sudden flood of people took them by surprise. They lost the package in the shuffle, but they’re looking at the CCTV footage from the area and I hope they’ll have better luck coming up with a lead than I did. I’m really sorry.”
Amanda gave a shuddering sigh. “It’s not your fault. You did all you could do without tipping off the kidnappers. I suppose now we can only wait and pray.”
I wished I could offer more, but Amanda had just about summed it up. Wait and pray.