The T-shirt was a blue marl crew neck consisting of 65% polyester and 35% cotton, sporting a slightly faded Topshop label. The shorts were checked blue denim and had been purchased from the same company. His boxers were from Marks & Spencer, as were the socks. The trainers were black plimsolls, well worn.
Close examination had revealed a spot of blood on the neckline of the T-shirt, which proved to be Alan’s and probably occasioned when his neck had been injected.
Rhona had recovered a number of fibres from the clothing, of various origins and composition: animal hairs that matched the family dog; vegetable in the form of leaves and grass from the surrounding area. She had also identified two unique human hairs, neither of which were Alan’s, and a number of man-made fibres not belonging to the clothes he was wearing.
The underwear held traces of semen which matched their owner’s DNA and a blonde hair sample whose morphology was pubic. A smearing of vaginal fluid in the opening on the boxers suggested Alan had had sex sometime prior to his death, but there was no evidence that semen had been spilt where he’d died.
McNab had mentioned that Alan and a female flatmate were an occasional sexual item. Rhona imagined a Saturday-night or Sunday-morning coupling, after which Alan had set off to visit his mum. If he’d arranged to meet someone at the stone circle, she didn’t believe he’d thought himself in any danger. From the evidence at the crime scene, Alan had lain down in the circle willingly.
And what about the stone? It had turned out to provide both a question and a partial answer.
Any surface that was as smooth as the miniature ridges on a finger could potentially bear identifiable latent fingerprints. Because of the flexibility of finger skin, she’d retrieved prints from cigarettes, paper, fruit, crumpled cans, bed sheets, rubbish bags and dead bodies.
In this case, the stone, not the body, had provided her with one, from the Cathkin Braes victim at least. She hadn’t been so lucky with the Orkney stone, retrieving only a partial print which proved insufficient to match the two. Nevertheless, it was something, although if the perpetrator wasn’t on the database then they required a suspect before it could be used.
Rhona went online and checked whether the crime-scene software had been brought up to date. The geological make-up of the stones was there, plus notification that a print had been retrieved, but no matches were indicated on the database search. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t yet generate one. Everything required time, resources and money. Especially money.
She took a break and made some coffee. Chrissy was absent, attending a court appearance on another and quite different case, regarding a break-in. Rhona missed her company, having wanted to talk through last night’s proceedings with her forensic assistant.
While drinking her coffee, she went online again to check for any further spread of the map story and found #stonedead still trending on Twitter. Rhona read some of the wild suppositions about where it would happen next, Stonehenge proving the most popular, probably because it was the one the majority of people had heard of. The eye of the public seemed to have moved south, which McNab would be happy about. She was momentarily grateful the map featured the entire mainland and not just the northern section of it.
The call came through from Magnus just after midday. She’d been expecting him to get in contact despite the manner in which the previous evening had ended. Magnus wasn’t one to hold a grudge, unlike McNab.
‘It was the girl who came to see me at Houton,’ he confirmed. ‘Although I had to go mainly by the piercings, and the clothes.’
‘Are they any further forward on the Brodgar victim’s identity?’
‘Her name is Adelina Bacha, she arrived from Poland a week ago and started work at the local fish factory.’
‘Why was she at Brodgar?’
‘The police don’t know why or how she went there, although I suspect one of Jack’s team might. Most of them have transport and live in Stromness where the factory is, but I’ll leave Erling to find that out.’
‘Are you planning to stay up there?’
‘No. I want to talk about the map. I’ve had an idea.’ He didn’t elaborate and she didn’t ask him to. ‘I’ll catch an afternoon flight. Are you free to come over tonight?’ When Rhona didn’t immediately answer, he added, ‘Patrick Menzies gave a statement which contained messages he alleged came from Alan. DI McNab sent me a copy and asked if I could decipher them. I think they might refer to the map.’
Rhona, covering her surprise at this turn of events, told Magnus she’d text to confirm later and rang off. It sounded as though a truce had been called between the two men. Even more amazing was McNab giving the time of day to the medium’s contribution.
The room was packed. McNab ran his eye over the assembled group, who appeared tense and engaged. He contemplated for a moment that they might think he was about to announce his re-assignment, after his summons to the super’s office, so he gave them a grim smile to reassure them. If they were relieved it wasn’t immediately obvious.
McNab had a sudden and startling out-of-body experience where he was part of that audience looking back at himself, standing up there, waiting to pontificate on something he knew fuck all about. He, like them, stood on the outskirts of a maze. Plenty of possible paths to follow, with no guarantee of reaching the centre. They had all been given specific jobs, sometimes boring, but which at least gave them a sense of purpose and direction. He, on the other hand, had to determine those jobs. He had spent the time since the meeting with the super working out what his next step should be, all the while worried that he was missing something important.
He’d done what DS Clark had asked regarding Menzies’ statement, although it had stuck in his craw. Nutters like Menzies often cropped up in murder cases, inveigling their way in, sometimes claiming to have evidence, sometimes even admitting to the crime. Attention seekers and minor psychopaths. McNab suspected Menzies was a bit of both. But he had fooled the mother. That’s what worried McNab. That and the fact that his detective sergeant appeared to give credence to what the medium had to say.
He dragged his thoughts back to the present and called for attention. He brought them up to date regarding the Orkney case, then set the ball in motion by handing the floor over to the boy wonder.
Ollie, for all his youthful appearance, looked unperturbed as he approached the front. Touching the screen, he brought up an image of a stone circle. Above it was the name STONEWARRIOR.
So now we know the name of the game, McNab thought.
‘The game, I believe, is on five levels, all of which appear to require an in-depth knowledge of Druidism and important sites both Druidic and Neolithic. A sort of Mastermind game. Unlike other warrior games, it’s not about fighting, but about gaining knowledge and solving puzzles.’
Ollie brought up a series of images. One looked like a three-circled labyrinth. Another, an ancient gnarled oak tree. A third, a set of standing stones linked by lines with mathematical symbols. ‘I think the players were probably selected from one or more sites associated with Druidism and gaming, such as World of Druids, World of Warcraft and Druids Grove. They are unlikely to know one another except by their avatar.’
Ollie continued: ‘In Druidism the number three is significant. Their philosophy is built on reverence for the earth, the ancestors and the gods. Land, sea and sky. Normally those seeking knowledge begin training as a Bard, who holds the knowledge of the stories and myths of the belief system. Then they become Ovate, who have the gift of prophecy and can converse with the spirits, a bit like clairvoyants today. The third and highest level is that of a Druid priest. As such, the game resembles this, but doesn’t mirror it. I think when a fifth level is reached there’s a ceremony, which involves a stone circle. A stone circle is regarded as a potent energy source. However, I’ve yet to break the password for full entry, so much of this is guesswork.’
McNab looked at the bemused faces of his team, although one or two of the men had nodded when certain games had been mentioned. They were obviously far more aware of the gaming world than he was.
When Ollie stood down, McNab resumed his place at the front.
‘As you are aware, a map of twenty-five stone circle sites has been released online, linking it to this case. Interest in this has sparked it trending on Twitter as #stonedead. This complicates the investigation. I have no doubt we’ll be besieged with calls offering help or information. Most of it will be unhelpful, much will be rubbish, but we’ll have to treat each call seriously.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Superintendent Sutherland wants nothing said about the case outside these walls. Not in the pub to one another, or to partners at home. Do I make myself clear?’
McNab had been putting off mentioning the medium, but it had to happen, whether he liked it or not. He brought up a copy of the statement on the screen.
‘The medium Patrick Menzies claims to be in touch with the Cathkin Braes victim regarding this game. He states that the victim is concerned for the well-being of the other players and is attempting to help us locate them.’
The hush was deafening.
‘I couldn’t help but notice that a number of those present seem familiar with the world of games. If any of you recognize anything in this statement that might help the investigation, then I want you to come to me.’
McNab took himself out after the meeting. As a DS he’d walked and driven the streets of Glasgow regularly. As DI he’d been spending too much time in the office contemplating the possibility of failure. It was time he acted on instinct.