‘We’ll have to let Zac Buchanan go,’ Clare said.
Tony frowned. ‘Pity. He was looking like a good fit for it.’
‘I know. He could still be our killer. Might have worn gloves when he handled the gun and the ammo. But even if he did kill Russell, and it looks like we’d struggle to prove it, I reckon he’s been paid to do it. And by someone with enough money to get their hands on a Dragunov.’
‘And you have onward addresses for the Lodge party?’
‘Yeah. The three men are heading back to Glasgow. Gaby and Luke, too. Then they’re catching the London sleeper tonight.’
‘Okay. Keep me posted.’
Out in the main office Zoe was tapping away at her computer.
‘You okay?’ Clare said.
‘Yeah, fine.’ She looked towards Clare’s office door. ‘Did he eat the cake?’
‘He said it was delicious. Frankly, it’s far more than he deserves.’
‘Oh I don’t know,’ Zoe said, then she turned back to her computer.
Chris was in the kitchen retrieving a tub of salad from the fridge.
‘Pass me that duck wrap,’ Clare said, pointing to the sandwich she’d bought on her way in to work. She saw Chris look at it with something approaching longing. ‘Sara got you on a diet again?’
He shook his head. ‘Ever since she found the Wagon Wheels.’
Clare laughed. ‘You need to get better at hiding them.’
‘I could put them in your filing cabinet.’
‘Oh no! You are not bringing me into this. I’ve enough problems of my own.’ She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser. ‘Fancy taking these into the incident room?’ she said. ‘Find a quiet corner?’
Over lunch – Clare took pity on Chris and gave him half the wrap – they discussed the case.
‘So, if it wasn’t Zac…’ Chris began.
‘We don’t know it wasn’t. He was in the area, remember. All night.’
‘True.’
‘And that gun could have been left in the house for him.’
Chris frowned. ‘He doesn’t really fit the picture, though, does he? He’s never shot and killed anyone.’
‘As far as we know.’
‘Suppose. He could be a cracking shot, but he’s no history with guns.’
‘Again, as far as we know.’
Chris speared a forkful of salad. ‘Why are you so determined it’s him?’
‘I’m not. But there’s no love lost between him and Russell Fox. We can’t ignore that.’
‘It’s not enough though.’
She nodded. ‘Okay, let’s consider this: what if someone’s trying to frame Zac?’
Chris munched his salad, weighing this up. ‘Certainly seems more likely than Zac being the killer.’
‘Remember his story about a message on his phone telling him to wait for a package? That made sure he was in the town overnight.’
‘If it’s true.’
‘But, if someone did want to frame him, what better way to guarantee he’d be in the area when Russell was killed?’
‘It would have to be someone who knew Russell Fox had crossed Zac,’ Chris said.
‘Someone who’d been in prison.’
‘Steve Christie?’
Clare nodded. ‘Could be.’
‘You have his DNA now. So we should know soon.’
‘It’s a long shot, to be honest. But we have to try.’ She fell silent for a moment then said, ‘I think I’d like to speak to Zac again, if he’s not already been released. Could you check? There’s something else I want to do.’
Janey was finishing a bowl of soup in the kitchen when Clare found her.
‘Could you do me a favour?’
Janey carried her bowl over to the sink. ‘Sure.’
‘Could you look into a David Fox please? He died coming up for ten years ago – it’ll be ten years in September.’
‘What do you want to know?’
Clare thought for a moment. ‘I’m not sure. Just whatever you can find out. How he died, if he was married, or living with someone. And especially if he could have had any children.’
‘He related to the victim?’
‘Yeah, brother to Russell and Gaby.’ She smiled. ‘It probably won’t help but I’d like to know, all the same.’
‘We’re in luck,’ Chris said. ‘They released him ten minutes ago and he’s heading for the bus station. A couple of the lads were running him there so they’ll bring him here instead. I’ve said we’ll put him on a bus back to Leven.’
Zac arrived forty minutes later, accompanied by two officers.
‘We’ll take him from here,’ Clare said, thanking them.
‘Am I gonnae be needing a solicitor?’ Zac said, trailing after Clare to the interview room.
‘To be honest, Zac, I doubt it. You’ll still be under caution but I just want to check something with you. I’m happy to arrange for the duty solicitor to attend but it will delay things.’ She opened the interview room door and stood back for Zac to enter.
‘Go on, then,’ he said. ‘But if it gets heavy, I’m saying nothing.’
Clare began the interview with the usual formalities and started the tape. ‘Zac, you have agreed to be interviewed without a solicitor present, but we are happy to stop the interview to wait for one if you prefer.’
‘Aye, just get on with it.’
‘Okay. You told us previously that you came to St Andrews by bus with Abe McLeod last Friday evening.’
‘Aye, so?’
‘And that you received a text message asking you to remain in the town to collect a package.’
‘Aye.’
‘Do you mind telling us how you spent the night?’
He shrugged. ‘Suppose. Spent a bit of time with Abe…’ He tailed off and Clare guessed he wanted to avoid mentioning the stolen car again.
She chose her words carefully. ‘And when you and Abe… parted company, you went to the museum?’
‘Aye. Doubledykes Road, like I told you. Message said I was supposed to wait there and the parcel would be dropped off early morning.’
‘So you waited all night?’ Clare said. ‘Just inside the museum gates, off Doubledykes Road?’
He nodded.
‘For the tape, please.’
‘Aye, I waited where you said.’
‘But the person with the package didn’t appear?’
‘Naw. Waste of a night. Could have been home in my bed.’
‘You also said you hardly saw anyone,’ Clare continued. ‘I’d like you to think carefully about that, please. It might be important. Was there anyone at all? Particularly anyone you think might have noticed you.’
Zac sat back and rubbed his chin. ‘A few folk wandered past – Friday night – after closing time.’
‘Did you speak to them?’ Clare asked.
He shook his head. ‘A couple were chatty but I didn’t take them on. I was trying to keep my head down.’
‘Go on.’
‘Pretty quiet after that,’ he said. ‘Then, early morning, when it started getting light, ye ken, more folk came down the road.’
‘What sort of folk?’
Zac thought for a moment. Then he said, ‘Like folk heading for work. Couple of lassies in black skirts and white blouses. Hotel staff, I reckoned. That sort of thing.’
‘Did any of them look your way? As if they were looking for someone?’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t think so, although…’ he broke off for a moment, then said, ‘there was this one boy.’
‘Yes?’
‘I say boy, not that young. Maybe thirtyish. ’Bout seven in the morning. Maybe a bit after that. Looked a bit rough, if ye get my meaning.’
‘Rough in what way?’
‘Well, he needed a shave and a wash, for a kick-off,’ Zac said. ‘Clothes a bit messy, ye ken? I reckon he’d been to a party and that was him just wandering home.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘He said, didn’t he? About the party. And he had a guitar.’
‘He said? You spoke to him?’
‘Aye. I wasnae sure who’d be coming with the parcel and he caught my eye, like. So I wandered over. Just in case it was him.’
‘And he had a guitar?’ Chris asked.
‘Aye. Well, guitar case actually. I’m guessing the guitar was inside. Anyway, he said it’d been a wild night and could he bum a fag. I’ve been there myself, ye ken, desperate for a smoke. So I lit one up, took a couple of drags and gave it to him.’
‘And then?’
‘Said thanks, said I was a braw lad and went on his way.’
‘And that’s all you can remember?’
Zac creased his brow. ‘There was one thing,’ he said. ‘Bit odd…’
‘Yes?’
‘He was wearing gloves.’
‘Gloves?’
‘Aye. Thick woolly ones. And I remember thinking it was a bit odd. Height of summer and that.’
Clare sat thinking for a moment. Was there some reason this man stopped to ask Zac for a cigarette? Was this part of a plan to set Zac up by making sure he was in the town the morning Russell Fox was shot? Whether it was or not, they couldn’t ignore it.
‘Would you help us put together a photofit of the man? It might be important.’ She sensed Chris shifting in his seat but she ignored this. ‘Zac?’
He sat back and folded his arms. ‘Strikes me, Inspector, I’ve been put to a hell of a lot of trouble. If I do your photo thingy I’ll probably miss my bus back to Leven.’
Clare raised an eyebrow. ‘Strikes me, Zac, we’re not charging you in connection with the theft of a rather nice BMW.’ She scraped back her chair. ‘You help us with the photofit then we’ll talk about how to get you back to Leven.’
Outside the room Chris said, ‘You want to catch me up?’
Clare stood thinking for a moment. ‘Might be nothing. But, what he said about the man with the guitar…’
‘Guitar case.’
‘That’s my point. Quite big, aren’t they – guitar cases?’
‘And you’re thinking the case could actually… contain a gun?’ Chris said slowly.
‘Chris, it would work. Our sniper has the gun in the guitar case. He knows Zac’s been set up so he wanders by to check Zac’s there, as per the message. Then he goes on his way, safe in the knowledge Zac was in the town around the time Russell Fox was shot. He probably knows Zac would head for the bus station when the parcel bloke doesn’t appear. And we’d see him on the bus station CCTV.’
Chris fell silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘I dunno, Clare. It’s a bit far-fetched. He could just be a bloke with a guitar.’
‘There’s only one way to find out. Let’s get him working on a photofit and see if we can identify our tramp with the guitar.’