On A Dark Sea (The DCI Dani Bevan Detective Novels Book 2) (13 page)

Chapter Twenty Six

O
ne of the techies had enhanced the video of Maisie Riddell. Bevan was showing it to her team on a screen she’d borrowed from another department. Her officers remained silent until the film had run its course.

              ‘We’re building up a whole new picture of this girl,’ Dani began, stepping in front of Maisie’s motionless image. ‘Her mother had absolutely no idea about the life she was really living.’

              Phil took over the narrative. ‘Maisie had been performing in the Glasgow club scene since she’d turned fourteen years old. She sang in places that operated on the fringes of being legit. These were establishments where nobody asked too many questions.’

              Andy put up his hand. ‘How can Fiona not have known about this? Maisie must have been pulling some late nighters with this singing lark. Georgina couldn’t
possibly
have been able to cover for her on
all
those occasions.’

              ‘I don’t think she did,’ Phil said carefully. ‘Remember that Georgie told me Maisie suspected her mum had a boyfriend? I think Fiona wasn’t at home quite as much as she’s been suggesting.’

              Calder got to his feet. ‘So what if Fiona found out all about this secret life? Maybe she confronted her daughter and they fought? Perhaps this sighting in Newcastle is a red-herring and Maisie never left Glasgow at all.’

              Phil ran a hand through his silvery hair. ‘I’ve known Fiona a long time. She couldn’t have killed her daughter.’

              ‘People do stuff in the heat of the moment, Phil,’ Andy pressed his point, but not unkindly, ‘that’s why most murders are committed by someone known to the victim.’

              Dani shook her head and frowned. ‘But Fiona is very slight. Maisie was already taller and heavier than her mother. I can’t see her killing the girl, even in a fit of rage.’

              ‘What about this mysterious boyfriend, then?’ Alice Mann put in. ‘Might he have been involved in the confrontation? Fiona would certainly have needed help to get rid of the body.’

              Phil took a step towards Dani, resting his hand on her arm. ‘Could I speak with you for a moment, in private?’

              Bevan looked at him closely, his expression struck her as odd. ‘Right now?’

              ‘Yes,’ he replied flatly.

              Dani instructed her team in their tasks and led the way to her office. When Phil was inside, she pulled the door shut, crossing her arms and eyeing her Sergeant expectantly.

              ‘Do you recall there was a discrepancy in the timeline of Fiona’s movements on the morning of Maisie’s disappearance?’

              Dani nodded patiently. ‘She stopped for petrol and to buy a gift for her niece.’

              ‘There’s a coffee shop in that shopping centre. Fiona went there too.’

              ‘How do you know this?’ Dani furrowed her brow.

              ‘Because she was meeting me.’

              Bevan gestured for him to take a seat. She perched on the chair opposite, waiting for Phil to elaborate.

              ‘Fiona and I have been sleeping together for about three months. It began after we took the girls to see a concert at the SECC.’

              Bevan’s mouth fell open and it took several seconds for any words to come out. ‘Why the
hell
didn’t you say anything sooner?’

              ‘You know why.’ The man sat quite impassively in front of her, his hands clasped together in his lap.               Dani felt a sudden urge to slap his face, but fought it back. ‘Maisie has been missing for over a week and you’re only telling me this
now
. You’re one of the best policemen I’ve ever worked with – clever and decent and sensitive – all the qualities the force desperately needs in its officers.’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘I don’t think I can do anything to help you. Once this gets out, Phil, you’re finished.’

              He hung his head. ‘I know it seems crazy, but I knew my relationship with Fiona had nothing to do with Maisie’s disappearance, so I thought it was irrelevant to the investigation. We haven’t seen one another since it all happened. I think it’s over.’

              ‘Did Maisie know about the two of you?’

              Phil shook his head. ‘From what Georgie said, Maisie must have suspected Fiona had a boyfriend. She didn’t know it was me.’

              Bevan wasn’t convinced he could be so sure of that. ‘I’m going to need the times and dates that the two of you were together.’

              ‘Of course.’ Phil lifted his gaze again. ‘Fiona could never have harmed her daughter, that’s why I had to tell you about our affair. I couldn’t let the investigation proceed down a blind alley.’

              ‘We have to discuss every possibility, every angle. Christ, Phil, you could be a
suspect
in this. If Maisie had found out about your relationship with her mother, it gives you a motive to get the girl out of the way – so she couldn’t tell your family.’

              ‘But she didn’t know about us.’ Phil looked panicky.

              ‘You’ve obstructed my investigation, withheld vital information. This is an absolute bloody mess.’

              ‘That seems like nothing compared to what I’ve done to Jane and the girls. I knew I shouldn’t continue seeing her, but I was lonely and I wanted Fiona so badly. I don’t suppose you’d understand.’

              But she did. Dani understood only too well.

*

‘What’s going to happen to him?’ Andy asked, the moment Dani approached his workstation.

              ‘He’s been suspended. We went to the DCS together. Phil told him everything.’

              ‘Shit. I hope they take into account his years of service. This is the only slip-up the guy’s ever made.’

              ‘It’s a bit more than a slip-up, Andy,’ she said gently.

              ‘For once, Phil Boag did something entirely for himself – not for his wife or his precious daughters. I sincerely hope he doesn’t get crucified for it.’

              Dani hadn’t thought of it that way. ‘Do you think there’s any chance that Jane won’t crucify him?’

              Calder visibly shuddered. ‘I wouldn’t fancy having
that
conversation. Jane Boag makes the DCS seem like your fairy godmother.’

              Bevan couldn’t help but laugh, although her stomach was in knots for Phil. She really hoped he’d be okay. ‘What implications does this have for the case, Andy? We’ve got to try and look at these new facts impartially.’

              ‘Maisie might have found out about the affair. It could have been the trigger for her leaving home. Georgina was her best friend and her mother was playing an instrumental part in destroying her family.’

              ‘Yes, it is possible. I’ll have to re-brief the team. But I don’t think Fiona killed her daughter, Phil was right about that much. I believe her odd behaviour has been because of this relationship with Phil, not because she’s lying about what happened to Maisie.’

              ‘I agree. That guy Fiona went on a couple of dates with, Gavin Calhoun, he said that she suddenly ended contact with him. I bet that was when she started seeing Phil.’

              Dani sighed. ‘Did we miss the signs when we were working here with him? I truly thought that Phil was one of the good guys.’

              ‘He is. Look, the girls are growing up now. Sorcha will be going off to university next year. Even Georgina must be spending more time out with her mates. Jane works all the hours God sends. What’s Phil supposed to do, eh? He’s just an ordinary, red-blooded male like the rest of us. Come on Dani, that set up was always too good to be true. He’s had an affair, not put someone in hospital.’

              Bevan snapped her head around. ‘Why do you say that?’

              ‘What?’

              ‘About putting somebody in hospital?’

              ‘I don’t know. It was just a figure of speech, the first example that came into my head.’

              She eyed him closely, but Andy simply appeared bemused and mildly pissed off. ‘Right. Let’s get focussed back on the case. We need to find out all the venues that Maisie performed in. That’s where we’ll unearth the people who provided her with a ticket out of Glasgow.’

Chapter Twenty Seven

B
ill Hutchison was staring at the screen of the computer they kept on a desk in the study. A mug of tea was placed on one side of the keyboard and a pad and pen on the other. He was examining a marriage certificate, which he’d summoned up by using the online archives of the Scottish Records Office.

              The details Bill was carefully transcribing were of the marriage between Terence Sinclair and Michelle Sinclair, née Peel, which took place at a Register Office in Aberdeen in 1996. Terry’s ex-wife had been working as a hairdresser at the time of their wedding. He wondered if she did the same job now.

              Hutchison knew he’d promised DCI Bevan and DS Boag that he would do no more digging, but when he spoke to DI Lyons on the phone, the man had left him with very little confidence that the case was being handled competently. If Erskine was on his trail, Bill felt he needed to keep one step ahead of him.

              Armed with Michelle’s maiden name, Bill was able to perform some Google searches in order to locate her current whereabouts. It didn’t take long. Michelle was now the manageress of a beauty salon in Peebles. He was relieved, as this trip wouldn’t be quite as onerous as the last one. Bill followed the link to their website and noted down the contact number and address, feeling really quite pleased with himself.

              Thankfully, the salon was unisex and Bill was able to make an appointment for 3pm that afternoon. Half an hour beforehand, he walked up and down the street outside, gaining an idea of how the establishment operated. The people coming in and out were mostly of Joy’s age group. Bill was fairly certain that this was a respectable sort of business. He entered the premises ten minutes early and sat reading a magazine on a bench by the window. Bill had asked to have his hair cut by Michelle herself, a request that wasn’t treated as unusual, but meant he had to wait until she was finished with her previous client, a woman having a string of time-consuming treatments, all of which resulted in her looking faintly ridiculous, although Bill certainly didn’t say so. He simply joined in with the chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the gaggle of ladies around him as she proudly sashayed out of the building.

              Michelle was finally free to hustle him over to the sinks, instructing a young girl to give him a shampoo before depositing him back at one of the padded chairs, in front of a bank of mirrors.

              ‘A short back and sides, please,’ he asked genially, examining Michelle’s reflection in the glass. She looked to be nearing fifty. Her voluminous hair was dyed a very dark brown and her skin artificially tanned, but her face was friendly and open.

              Bill enquired about her business and what attractions there were to see in Peebles. Michelle chatted to him affably, this type of small-talk being a part of her job. Bill mentioned his grandsons and a recent weekend break he and Joy had enjoyed in Lochgilphead. Then the man took a deep breath, psyching himself up to ask his next question, only too aware that Michelle was wielding a pair of sharpened scissors. ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but were you once married to Terence Sinclair? I thought I recognised you from somewhere and I believe that must be it.’

              Instead of doing him harm with them, the scissors abruptly slipped from Michelle’s grasp, landing with a clatter onto the floor, where Bill’s white hairs were scattered in clumps on the chequered tiles. ‘Who sent you here?’ She asked, through trembling lips.

              ‘Nobody, I promise. I simply met the two of you once, in Aberdeen, many years ago.’

              The woman seemed to suddenly snap out of her reverie. She bent down to retrieve the scissors, wiping them on her apron. ‘Sorry about that. I’ve not heard Terry mentioned in a long time. We divorced a decade ago now.’

              ‘Oh, that’s a shame, I recalled you being happy together.’

              ‘I don’t think you can be recalling the right couple, Bill.’ Michelle gave a sad smile. ‘We weren’t ever that.’

              ‘Did you know that he died, up in Stonehaven a month or two back?’

              She nodded. ‘Aye, I saw it on the news. He looked years older than he should have done, in the photos they showed of him. His lifestyle finally caught up, I expect.’

              ‘But he would have been out in the fresh air every day working at that boat yard. He probably had a healthier job than most folk.’

              ‘That wasn’t how he really made his money, Bill. When I found out how he earned his living, I got away from that man as soon as I humanly could. This was as far away from him as I could get without totally abandoning my old mum in Perth.’

              Michelle had stopped cutting now and was holding a hand mirror up to the back of Bill’s head, allowing him to survey her handiwork. He twisted around to look at her directly. ‘What
did
Terry do for a living?’

              Michelle glanced about her warily. ‘Who are you? Why have you come here?’

              ‘I want to know why someone killed Terence Sinclair.’

              Michelle lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘The real question, Bill, is why someone didn’t do it years ago.’

*

When Bill drove back into Falkirk it was dark. He saw that the light was on in the kitchen window as he parked up at the house. Stepping into the hallway, he could smell the dinner cooking.

              ‘I’m in here!’ Joy called from the dining room.

              Bill took off his coat and went to wash his hands. After that, he joined her. ‘We don’t often eat in here during the week,’ he said in surprise.

              ‘I thought we could sit and talk about what you discovered, dear.’

              ‘I’m not sure you’ll want to hear it, Joy.’

              ‘You look tired, come and take a seat.’ Joy poured her husband a brandy and brought in their plates of food. The aroma of the homemade stew seemed to revive him.

              ‘She was a nice lady, Michelle Peel. After my haircut she led me into the back for a coffee, there’s a flat behind the shop that she lives in. It’s perfectly pleasant.’

              ‘Did she tell you about Sinclair?’

              Bill nodded, taking a sip of the brandy to restore his spirits. ‘When they were first married, they had a house in Aberdeen. Terence had a reasonably respectable job at the harbour. He worked for one of the shipping companies. Then, out of the blue, Sinclair was arrested. He was accused of trying to smuggle items coming over from Europe on the container ships, stuff that wasn’t being declared through customs. There wasn’t enough evidence to convict him but he lost his job. Michelle was upset about it, but they didn’t split up then, that came later. Sinclair got other jobs, on the building sites and on the boats. He scraped together a living for them both. But Terence was spending more and more nights away from home. Michelle thought he had another woman, so she followed him one evening. Sinclair went to the Fisherman’s Bar. His wife couldn’t follow him inside - she would have been far too conspicuous. She sat outside in her car for an hour instead. Then Michelle decided to have a look around. She went down a grimy alleyway to the back of the pub. The door was propped open, because a man was cooking in the kitchens and it was full of steam.

              Next to the kitchen, was a carpeted staircase leading up to the first floor. She doesn’t quite know why, but Michelle walked up those stairs. From halfway, she could hear voices, chattering and laughing. Michelle pressed herself into the grubby wall, tip-toeing the rest of the way, until she’d nearly reached the top. She stopped and listened. There was a man’s voice, it was her husband. He was negotiating with another man. They were sharing a joke. It was the most horrible joke Michelle had ever heard.

              When the men seemed to have moved away, she poked her head around the top of the stairs. There was a long hallway, with doors lining both sides. The same reddish, dirty carpet ran the length of it. Terry was nowhere to be seen. Then, one of the doors opened. A girl stepped out of it, dressed in a short nightgown and not much else. Michelle watched her in that doorway for several minutes, quite unable to believe her eyes. Michelle said the girl was young, so young that she felt the stinging bile rise up into her throat.              

              She turned and ran, back down the staircase and out into the night. Michelle gulped in the air like she’d stumbled upon a watering hole in the middle of a desert. She got into the car and drove home; packing a bag and going straight back to her mum’s place.’

              Joy sat perfectly still, with the meal untouched before her. ‘Did Michelle go to the police?’

              ‘No, she just left Terence, filed for divorce and never set eyes upon him again.’

              ‘DCI Bevan must raid that terrible place and get those girls out of there.’

              Bill looked at her plaintively. ‘But I promised the police I wasn’t going to do any more meddling, Joy. They won’t want to hear what I’ve found out.’

              His wife leant across the table and took his hand. ‘This is Danielle we’re talking about.
Of course
, she’ll want to hear it. DCI Bevan could never ignore a crime she’d been notified about. It wouldn’t matter how long ago it happened, she would always take action. I’m sure of it, Bill.’

              He nodded with relief. ‘You’re right, yes. I don’t know how I could ever have doubted it. I’ll call her first thing in the morning.’