Dark as Night (18 page)

              ‘Were you still there when the police arrived?’

              ‘Aye, they’d sent a couple of uniformed officers. I didn’t recognise either of them. By this point, the man had wandered off into the housing estate. They asked all the mums for a description. To be honest, I really didn’t get a good look at his face.’

              Andy stepped forward and placed his arms around her. ‘You seem a bit rattled. Are you worried about Amy?’

              Carol tipped her head back to catch his eye. ‘The women were all blethering on about paedophiles and kiddie snatchers.’ She paused. ‘This is going to sound weird, but I had the funniest sensation that the man was actually watching
me
.’

              Andy held her closer. He didn’t get the chance to ask his wife any more about the man loitering at the playground. Amy bounded into the room behind him, spinning in circles and waving her arms in the air, the pristine football kit snuggly fitting her tiny form.

              ‘Oh, you look gorgeous!’ Carol exclaimed, removing herself from Andy’s embrace and rushing off to find her camera.

*

Alice Mann was examining a map of the Firth of Clyde. Her own parents lived in Largs. They took a drive along the coast to Wemyss Bay occasionally, if Alice was over for Sunday lunch.

              Wemyss Bay was probably best known as a port, where you could catch the ferry to the Isle of Bute. These days, Alice noted how the village was dominated by the huge caravan park, which no doubt brought a certain amount of tourism and wealth to the area. Alice’s father had always been interested in trains. She recalled him waxing lyrical about the train station at Wemyss Bay, which he described as one of the finest railway buildings in Scotland. This meant that like Paisley and Giffnock, there was a reliable train service into the city of Glasgow.  

              The detective had already contacted the holiday park, who had no record of entertainments put on in the village back in 1997. The manager told her they had their own acts and cabaret at the park. They wouldn’t have brought in outside contractors. He very helpfully sent over a list of the acts they were using back then, when they had far less amenities than they did now.

              Caitlin Hendry approached Alice’s desk. She gazed down at the map. ‘From what I learnt about the Glasgow Fair from Dr Fraser, Wemyss Bay seems like the typical seaside resort that city folk would stream to during the Fair weekend. Hundreds of holidaymakers would line the piers along that strip of the coast, waiting for the steamers to take them to Rothesay or Brodick.’

              ‘But I can’t find any evidence of our travelling fairground having visited there.’ Alice sighed.

              ‘It was a long time ago,’ Caitlin muttered. ‘If they arrived and set up camp on one of the fields, I don’t expect many folk would remember it now. No one pays much attention to the travelling fair. They stay for a week or so and then move on.’

              ‘Have
you
had any luck?’

              ‘I’ve been on the phone to the receptionist at Wemyss College. She was very helpful. They have extensive contacts within their alumni community, so 1997 didn’t seem that long ago to them. The lady made us an appointment with the current deputy head. He knew Douglas Ross quite well.’

              ‘Excellent. Then if the boss agrees, I suggest we concentrate for now on trying to find out everything we possibly can about our victim.’

Chapter 37

W
emyss College enjoyed an impressive position on a hillside just beyond the village. The grounds boasted a great view onto the Firth of Clyde and beyond it to the hills of Bute and Cumbrae.

              The main school building was based in a formidably large stone house. Alice might even have gone as far as to describe it as a castle. The reception desk was positioned in a room off a wide entrance hall, where a grand staircase dominated the space.

              Dr Kennedy’s office was on the first floor. Caitlin glanced about her at the stags’ heads that lined the walls. She found the formal atmosphere of the place faintly creepy. They discovered the door open and the deputy head standing by the window, staring out at the iron grey sea. He turned as the detectives entered.

              ‘Please take a seat at my desk,’ he commanded. Malcolm Kennedy was in his late fifties, tall and broad. His blue eyes twinkled as he smiled. ‘I wasn’t gazing out of the window and daydreaming, like a fifth former in double science on a Friday afternoon. I was actually thinking about Douglas, which I hadn’t done in many years, much to my shame.’

              ‘Did you know Mr Ross very well when he taught here?’ Alice flipped open her pad.

              ‘Douglas was already at Wemyss when I joined the school to teach Classics in ’92. We must have been colleagues for five years at least before his disappearance. I met his wife at staff dinners on a number of occasions, she was a lovely woman. I believe the school did right by her and the children after Douglas was declared dead, although I wasn’t management back then and wouldn’t have been party to the details.’

              ‘What was Mr Ross like? His wife is no longer around to tell us and the children don’t always know, do they?’

              Kennedy nodded. ‘Quite true. Most people present only their best side to their offspring - or their worst, depending upon one’s parenting style.’ The man was obviously amused by his own observation. ‘Douglas was the last of a certain breed of teacher.’

              Caitlin looked puzzled.

              ‘He was a maverick,’ Kennedy continued. ‘Douglas liked to joke with his classes and encouraged them to think outside the rules and regulations of this fine institution. The headmaster back then thought he was a subversive, but actually, Doug possessed a razor sharp intellect. His classes always sailed through their exams. He had the highest uptake of Oxbridge students.’ He tapped his forehead. ‘The man actually taught the boys how to reason for themselves.’

              ‘So you can’t imagine why anyone would have wanted to kill Mr Ross?’ Alice leaned in.

              Both detectives noticed a shadow pass across Kennedy’s face. ‘He was a highly valued member of staff. The school had absolute faith in his abilities.’

              Alice wondered why the man had now reverted to soundbites when he’d previous been so candid.

              ‘We don’t have any desire to ruin Mr Ross’s reputation, or bring your school any trouble,’ Caitlin Hendry added tentatively. ‘But we really need you to help us out a bit here. The evidence tells us that Douglas Ross found himself in the clutches of a very violent, ruthless person, yet this all happened nearly twenty years ago. His wife is dead and his children barely remember him. Can’t you give us anything at all?’

              Kennedy glanced at the young woman’s plaintive expression and sighed. ‘We are a small school here at Wemyss and have a strong community. The benefits of this are obvious, but there are some drawbacks. The boys have a tremendous knack of seeing into one’s soul. Their minds are young and sharp, their instincts honed. Added to this, staff and pupils spend a great deal of time together.’

              ‘What are you saying?’ Alice was becoming impatient.

              ‘I’m saying, detective constable, that there were rumours about Douglas Ross when he was a teacher here; barely formed whispers that passed between the boys in their dorms at night.’

              ‘And what exactly did these rumours suggest about Mr Ross?’

              Kennedy cleared his throat. ‘That although Douglas was married, he was in true fact a homosexual.’

Chapter 38

‘W
ell, we’d already guessed as much,’ DCI Bevan commented, as Mann and Hendry stood in her office. ‘How did the boys pick up on it? Was there any suggestion of Ross acting inappropriately towards them?’

              ‘No Ma’am. The deputy head thought the boys just noticed him looking at the older lads a bit longer than he should. It was subtle stuff that’s tricky to put your finger on and of course, it’s hardly an offence to be a homosexual.’

              ‘But not a great reputation to have if you are married,’ Bevan added. ‘So, do we think that Ross had a rendezvous with the man that killed him?’

              ‘It’s looking that way,’ Alice replied. ‘They must have come into contact with each other locally. The police records from back then suggested that Ross hadn’t left Wemyss Bay for weeks before he set off on his supposed walk. It had been a busy term at the school, which had lessons on Saturday mornings in those days.’

              ‘At least it limits the possibilities.’

              Dan Clifton approached the door and knocked. ‘I may have found something important, Ma’am,’ he announced, before even stepping inside. ‘I was speaking to the Admissions Officer at Wemyss College. She was providing me with the names of a few of Mr Ross’s students, now alumni of the school. One of them was called Anthony Lomond, 31 years old, now living in Glasgow.’

              Alice flinched. ‘Tony? Did he go to Wemyss College? I knew his parents were from the Firth of Clyde somewhere. I didn’t make the connection.’

              ‘Check it out, please,’ Bevan commanded. ‘Then bring Mr Lomond back in here for a wee chat.’

*

Tony Lomond looked uncomfortable. He’d cultivated the beginnings of a stubbly beard since DC Mann had last seen him. Alice knew that her boss was monitoring the interview from the video room upstairs. Dan Clifton was sitting impassively beside her with the duty solicitor opposite him.

              Alice was determined to take the lead. She pushed a large photograph across the desk towards Lomond. ‘Do you recognise any of the items in that picture?’

              He examined the image closely. ‘No.’

              The DC took it back, holding the photo up. ‘These items were discovered not far from where Nathan McLaren’s body was dumped. Some of the things here belonged to him.’ Alice tapped the glossy image. ‘This signet ring has also been identified. It was once the property of a Mr Douglas Ross, one time teacher at Wemyss College, Renfrewshire.’

              Tony winced. Alice eyed him closely, noting the beads of sweat that had broken out across his forehead. ‘How can that be possible?’

              ‘Do you admit to knowing Mr Ross?’

              ‘Of course, he was my science teacher at school.’ The man dipped his head. ‘I really liked him.’

              ‘Were you aware that Douglas Ross was declared dead in April 1997 after an Inquest decided he’d been swept away by the tide at Wemyss Bay?’

              He nodded. ‘I was in third form when it happened. The staff and students were devastated. I cried when my tutor told me. I found it tough at school. I wasn’t quite the same as the other boys, but Mr Ross was kind and sensitive, he appeared to understand. It was a tragedy that something like that had happened to him. He had children too, I recall.’

              Alice knew that Lomond was thirteen years old when Ross disappeared. It seemed extremely unlikely that he could have been responsible for it. Yet this link between him and two of the victims was impossible to ignore. ‘We believe now that Mr Ross may have been abducted by the same person who killed Nathan McLaren. How do you explain the fact that both of these men were known to you? It’s an incredible coincidence, don’t you think?’

              Tony lifted his head and looked her in the eye. ‘Actually, I’m not so sure it is.’ He laid his hands flat on the table between them. ‘The truth is that I
didn’t
really know Nathan McLaren. I’d spoken to him a few times in bars, on the gay scene. It’s actually quite a small world in Glasgow. I couldn’t have told you anything more about him other than he drank Czech lager.’ Tony shifted his gaze towards Dan. ‘Take this officer, for instance. I’ve seen him several times in the Lime Tree with his mates. I might even have spoken to him on occasion. Does that mean your fellow DC
also
has a connection to these crimes?’

              Dan Clifton’s face had flushed to a deep pink. The Duty Solicitor noisily cleared her throat. Alice was shocked, but determined not to let it put her off her stride.

              ‘I see what you’re saying, Mr Lomond. But we only have your word that you didn’t know Nathan McLaren better than that.’

              Tony shrugged. ‘My word is all I can offer you. Before I started the rowing I was a weedy little boy who was bullied by the bigger lads. The idea that at thirteen years of age I could have overpowered a grown man is simply preposterous.’

              ‘My client has a point,’ the solicitor chipped in. ‘Mr Lomond has been extremely cooperative since the very start of this investigation. This
coincidence
you’ve uncovered doesn’t really amount to much. I would also suggest that if one of your officers is known socially to my client and potentially to one of the victims, too, then he should be immediately removed from the case. If Mr Lomond is ever charged with these murders, I will have a duty to pass this information on to the defence team. It won’t go down well in court.’

              Alice blinked rapidly, sensing her colleague’s body stiffen. ‘Okay, Tony, that’s all for now, you’re free to go home. But be assured that we will need to speak with you again.’

Chapter 39

B
evan was standing by the filing cabinet whilst DC Dan Clifton was perched on the tiny sofa in her office. She realised her stance was intimidating but she really didn’t feel like sitting down.

              ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me you knew Tony Lomond socially?’