Dark as Night (13 page)

              She set the ring back on the table and lifted the watch. It had a standard Seiko analogue face set into a black leather strap. Bevan felt this was the kind of timepiece that would be worn by a man of at least thirty. It wasn’t a young person’s watch. They were sending it off to an expert who had a shop in Bath Street. He would be able to place a date on it for them. 

              The other items were a jumble of miscellany. They had Nathan’s keys, mobile phone and wallet, but nothing else there was so easily definable. Dani picked up a little carved elephant, which looked as if it had once hung on a chain. It seemed to be made out of ivory, which dated the piece from the get-go. Apart from that there were a couple of cheap gold-plated chains and another ring, this time a signet, which was smaller than Donny’s – as if the owner wore it on their little finger.

              Bevan would have the pieces photographed for the local press and for their slot on Crime Scotland. It often amazed the DCI how well people could remember objects they’d not set eyes on for decades. She firmly believed they may yet be able to identify other potential victims from these items.

             
Dani glanced up when there was a knock at the door. It was DC Mann. She beckoned her in. 

              ‘We’ve been checking out the site-holders who were on Glasgow Green for the Fair weekend, Ma’am,’ Alice said.

              ‘Any joy?’

              ‘Most of the craft and food vendors were new to the Fair this year. But a number of the ice cream vans have been trading around the Glasgow area for donkey’s years. DC Clifton is going out to interview the owners today. As for the fairground, it appears to have been a different operation from the one that pitched up at the Green in 2005.’

              Dani sighed. ‘That’s not the result we were hoping for.’

              Alice referred to her notes. ‘In 2005, the amusements were provided by a travelling funfair called Coco’s. They were a family operation and set up on the Green with their caravans, staying for the duration of the weekend. This year, the amusements and rides were provided by a funfair hire company based in Ayr. They do all the Glasgow events.’

              ‘Is this Coco’s operation still in existence?’

              ‘I’ll look into it Ma’am. I didn’t want to continue any further with this line if there was no obvious connection to the present day.’

              ‘I’ll like you to follow the lead anyway, Alice. I know that Professor Morgan was sceptical but I still think it’s worth checking out.’

              The DC nodded, turning to leave.

              ‘Oh, and bring Caitlin Hendry in on the inquiry, she’s young but has very good instincts. Get her doing some digging into exactly what went on at the fair back in 2005. Our new recruit may just spot something we’ve missed.’

Chapter 25

D
onald Patrick Calder was born in the spring of 1964. His brother, Jack, was already fourteen years old and about to leave school. Donald received a better education than Andy’s father, purely as a consequence of coming along when he did.

              Don stayed on at school long enough to complete his Highers, joining a journalism apprenticeship scheme at one of the local papers in the early eighties. That’s where Andy’s uncle had remained for the rest of his short career. He covered the sports fixtures and music gigs for a small scale Paisley rag. Don might have moved onto working for the Herald one day, but if his nephew were perfectly honest, there was no sign of this at the time of Don’s disappearance.

              Andy stared at the list Mae had given him. For much of early 2005, Don had been researching for his book about St Columba Football Club. He’d been commissioned by the board to write it. Mae had catalogued her husband’s visits to the library in Paisley and to St Columba’s Park itself during the weeks before he went missing. The book wasn’t set to make Don much money. It was going to be sold to raise funds for the club. According to Mae, Don had been promised a fixed fee upon completion of the project.

              Donald had certainly thrown himself into the task. Andy recalled how his uncle was always talking about it. The detective realised now that it meant a great deal to Don. He’d been a writer and this was to be his first book. Andy had to blink back tears when he thought of how the man had never got the opportunity to finish it. For the first time since Don’s body was discovered, it was anger that surged through Andy’s veins, rather than a vague sense of confusion and disappointment. He wanted to find the bastard who did this. It didn’t matter what his uncle’s sexuality was, he hadn’t deserved to suffer a miserable fate like that.

              Carol came into the room and hovered at her husband’s shoulder. ‘Would you like a cuppa?’ She eventually asked.

              ‘No thanks,’ Andy sighed. ‘I’m going to have to go and see Dad.’

              Carol observed his hunched posture and placed her arms around him, resting her face against his cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

              Andy clasped her hands, turning to face her. ‘What on earth have
you
got to be sorry about?’

              ‘I’m sorry about what happened to Don and for not really understanding how serious it was all those years ago. I didn’t give you enough sympathy when your uncle first went missing. I was young and selfish and thought you should be giving all of your attention to me. What happened to Don was just awful.’

              Andy kissed his wife tenderly. ‘Don’t you ever feel bad about this, Carol. You stood by me back then and plenty of girls wouldn’t have. We’ll get past this, I promise. I just need some time to deal with it in my own way.’

              Carol did not reply, but buried her face into his neck and held him tight.  

*

Jack Calder was wheeling a barrow full of garden waste along the front path when Andy pulled up at the kerb. His father hadn’t spotted him yet and Andy was tempted to simply drive away again. Instead, he took a deep breath and opened up.

              ‘Morning Da’,’ he called over the hedge.

              The man put a hand to his bald pate, shading his eyes from the sun and slowly taking in his son’s casual attire. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’

              ‘I’m on leave.’ Andy proceeded to help his father transfer the heap of clippings into a big plastic bin. ‘How’s Mum?’

              ‘Aye, she’d keeping well. Are Carol and Amy okay?’ Jack scrutinized his son closely, always possessing a razor-sharp instinct when it came to his children.

              Andy felt his cheeks redden, but he was already flushed by the heat and exertion. He hoped it didn’t show. ‘They’re good, aye. Amy enjoyed the trip to Troon. She spent most of her time splashing in the water.’

              Jack chuckled. ‘Just like your sister when she was a bairn.’

              Andy laid a hand on his father’s arm. ‘I need to talk to you about Don.’

              The older man kept his gaze fixed on the contents of the wheelbarrow. ‘We’ve got him back now, Son. There’s no more to say on the matter.’

              ‘I’ve been looking into Uncle Don’s movements in the days and weeks before he went missing. Did he come and see you at any point during that period?’

              Jack flicked his head up. ‘I don’t see how knowing that would change anything. I’ve heard what the news reports are suggesting about my brother and this McLaren chap – about the reason why they were killed. But I don’t want it discussed, especially in front of your mother or sister, is that understood? Now, go inside and say hello to your maw. She’s not seen you in weeks. It’s time for us to carry on with our lives now, Andy. Once the funeral’s got over with, Donald Calder and his memory will be dead and gone to this family.’

Chapter 26

D
C Caitlin Hendry possessed shoulder length, shaggy blonde curls which she wore twisted up into a bun for work. She used to keep her hair neatly tucked under her hat when out on the beat, but now she’d been promoted to the crime division, Caitlin was considering a more radical cut. Something like DCI Bevan’s perhaps.

              Hendry was enjoying working with Alice Mann. All the officers down at Barrhead had been male and at least a decade older than her. This secondment made the young DC feel she’d like to move to the city on a more long-term basis. Caitlin was certainly keen to learn whatever she could from the DCI whilst here at Pitt Street.

              Caitlin spotted Alice making her way over to the desk.  She swiftly pulled across her notepad so she would have her information to hand. ‘How’s it going?’’ Alice asked lightly. ‘Dan is going downstairs for some cans of drink from the refectory. Do you want anything?’

              ‘Oh, I’m okay with water, thanks.’

              Alice grinned. ‘You’ll be the first DC at this station who isn’t fuelled by Irn Bru. It makes your brain sharper, you know.’

              Caitlin smiled.

              ‘So, have you got some material for me?’ Alice glanced at the pad, which was filled with copious notes.

              ‘I’ve been checking out the history of this travelling fairground company, ‘Coco’s’. Although, to call it a company is stretching things a bit.’

              Alice pulled across a seat and sat down.

              ‘I can find evidence of Coco’s being in operation way back into the sixties and maybe before. It was run by the O’Driscoll family. They were part of the travelling community who were based on a stretch of industrial land out towards East Kilbride. Did you know that the majority of Scottish ‘showmen’ lived on sites around Glasgow?’

              The DC shook her head.

              ‘In the early 2000s, the travelling communities were being evicted from these scraps of land, particularly when the extension to the M74 was constructed in 2003. But the O’Driscoll’s were based on one of the 25 plots which had planning permission. So in 2005, they were the obvious choice to provide the entertainment for the Glasgow Fair celebrations that year.’

              ‘Do the family still live on the same plot?’

              ‘No,’ Caitlin replied sombrely. ‘They took their fairground on a tour of Europe in 2007. When they returned to Glasgow, they found their pitch had been burnt to the ground. All the static caravans were gone.’

              ‘Was it arson?’

              ‘The police report is inconclusive. Apparently, fires are very common on traveller sites. But the council used it as an opportunity to move the community on. The land has since been re-developed for housing.’

              ‘So what happened to Coco’s?’

              ‘The travelling fair split up. According to a report in the Herald from 2008, the younger members of the O’Driscoll family took the rides over to Europe on a permanent basis, leaving the older members of the clan behind. The elders must have set up in camps elsewhere around Scotland. Some may even have been eligible for council housing.’

              Alice sighed. ‘So we’ve got absolutely no bloody hope of tracking any of them down now. The ones who went off abroad will be totally untraceable.’

              ‘We’ve still got this hire company in Ayrshire to question. They’ll be easy enough to get hold of.’

              ‘But what’s the connection between the two years – 2005 and now?’ Alice said this almost to herself.

              ‘If you don’t mind, Ma’am, I’d like to do a bit more digging into this travelling fairground community and the history of the Glasgow Fair itself.’

              ‘Go ahead,’ Alice replied flatly. ‘We’ve got no other pressing leads. And Caitlin, you really don’t need to call me Ma’am, save that for the DCI.’

*

Bevan had received Professor Morgan’s psychological profile report by e-mail that morning. Despite the man’s ramshackle appearance, his document was methodical and well supported with evidence. Dani jotted down the man’s key points. What interested the DCI, was that Morgan was still insisting that the perpetrator may not be a homosexual himself. Bevan didn’t completely understand this evaluation.

              Even though the idea made her cringe, Dani had picked up the phone and dialled the Professor’s extension at the university. To her surprise, he seemed keen to meet the DCI to discuss his report.

              They convened in a café near Kelvin Hall. Possibly because this location was closer to the Professor’s own territory, he seemed more relaxed.               Dani ordered them both a coffee.

              ‘I want to begin by thanking you for your swift response to my request.’ Dani swirled a couple of sugar cubes around her cup, watching the crystals slowly dissolve.

              Morgan chuckled. ‘You really don’t need to smooth talk me with the management speak, DCI Bevan.’

              Dani glanced up in shock. ‘I beg your pardon, Professor?’

              A look of sadness passed across his lined face. ‘I knew your mother. A very long time ago now. You are incredibly like her.’

              Dani was so taken aback by this statement that she was temporarily speechless. It took several moments before her brain could even begin to consider how this could be the case.

              ‘I was a lecturer at Aberystwyth back in the late seventies and early eighties. I had studied there too. I’m a north Walian by birth.’ He smiled wistfully.

              ‘So you and Mum studied together?’ Dani’s hand was shaking so much she could hardly lift her cup.

              ‘Yes, Moira and I were undergraduates together but we stayed in touch. I was at your parents’ wedding.’

              ‘I don’t remember you ever visiting the house. I know I was young, but still.’