Dark as Night (21 page)

              Calder resolved to say nothing to the lad about it. Tomorrow, he’d put the scrap of paper away in a drawer and forget it was ever sent, concentrating instead on the more urgent matter of tracking down Don’s killer.

Chapter 44

D
CI Bevan had been avoiding making contact with her dad. She knew he was busy helping to organise the summer show at Scalasaig and Huw Bevan understood that when his daughter had a murder case on he may not hear from her for weeks at a time. Dani had taken advantage of these circumstances to maintain radio silence.

              DCs Mann, Clifton and Hendry had been working hard to demonstrate a connection between Tony Lomond and the three victims, but so far, the evidence chain was weak. Lomond was undoubtedly too young to have killed Ross and there was no suggestion that the young academic had ever come into contact with Donald Calder. They had a list of bars that Calder frequented as a young man, but Lomond would still have been at school during those years. Their paths couldn’t really have crossed.

              Dani sat at the table in the kitchen of her flat cradling a glass of single malt. It was still very light outside and she’d left the patio doors open. For some reason, the DCI couldn’t shake the details of the west London murders of the late 1980s from her mind. Something about the original investigation had left her feeling troubled.

              She downed the last of the whisky and reached for her mobile phone with a heavy sigh. The person she was calling answered quickly. ‘I’m sorry to bother you in the evening, but I’d like to meet. Do you know the Winged Chariot on Gibson Street? Great, I’ll see you there in half an hour.’

*

Professor Morgan was already seated at one of the private booths when Dani arrived. He wore a burgundy jumper and cords, a pint of dark ale gripped in both hands. The man looked apprehensive, wary perhaps. Bevan bought herself a glass of wine before joining him.

              ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, as soon as the detective slid onto the bench opposite. ‘I was very rude the last time we met. I don’t actually behave like that normally.’

              ‘You told me exactly what you thought, Professor. It’s a very rare experience in the modern world. I expect you shouldn’t be apologising for it.’

              Morgan shook his head. Dani noticed he’d had a haircut. She could now make out the strength of his jawline and his high set cheekbones. Those striking blue eyes were set off more appropriately. The man might even have been handsome when her mother knew him, all those years ago.

              ‘I was blaming you for things that happened when you were just a young child. For a psychologist, that is simply unforgivable. I’m glad you called, because I’d like us to start again, if that’s possible.’

              Dani sipped the wine. ‘I don’t even know what you mean by that. I’m perfectly happy to work with you, Professor. You are still on the Home Office list.’

              Morgan smiled ruefully, muttering, ‘just like your mother.’ More stridently he added, ‘will you permit me to tell you a little about myself and how my life turned out after Moira had returned to you and your father?’

              ‘Of course.’ She was genuinely interested.

              ‘I put in for a transfer almost immediately, spending the next decade teaching at the Russell Institute in London. That is where I met my wife, Lavinia. We married in ’88 at St Bride’s Church on Fleet Street. Our sons were born in the early nineties.’

              Dani peered at him curiously, he hadn’t struck her as a man who had a woman at home to look after him and advise him on how he was presenting himself to the world.

              ‘You’re right, DCI Bevan. Lavinia and I aren’t together any longer. She lives in Canada now with her second husband, but the boys are here in Britain. They aren’t long out of university and stay with me often. So, you see, I’m not as pathetic and bitter as I’ve no doubt been making out. I had a good life after Moira turned me down. I was deeply in love with Lavinia for many years and wouldn’t be without my sons for the whole world.’

              ‘It was just that being thrown together with me, after all that time had passed. It was a shock.’

              ‘Yes, something like that. But I’m very glad to have made your acquaintance, Danielle Bevan, and to see what an impressive life you’ve made for yourself.’

              For one awful moment, Dani actually thought that Morgan was going to say how proud her mother would have been. Thankfully, he didn’t and the DCI was spared the humiliation of bursting into floods of tears.

              Instead, he tipped his head to one side and said, ‘but this isn’t why you wanted to meet this evening. There’s something else you wanted to talk to me about?’

              ‘I’ve been reading your book.’

              ‘The one about Ian Cummings?’ He shifted forward, resting his elbows on the dark wood.

              ‘I was interested in the police investigation into the murders. Did you meet any of the investigating officers before you wrote it?’

              ‘Yes, I spent a few weeks liaising with the Met. They were very cooperative with my research. I don’t find that’s always the case.’

              ‘Did you ever speak with Harry Kyle, the DC who took part in the sting operation that resulted in Cummings’ arrest?’

              ‘No. Kyle was already living in New Zealand by that time. I had to use the case reports and the testimony of the other men who’d been at the flat in White City that evening.’

              Dani reached inside her bag and pulled out a copy of Morgan’s own book. She flicked ahead to the glossy pages of photographs in the middle. ‘This is Ian Cummings at the time of the murders. He was tall, certainly, but not very well built. If you look at the later pictures, you can see that Cummings has obviously been building up his physique in prison.’

              The professor nodded slowly, as he compared the two pictures. ‘Yes, I can see that.’

              ‘And here’s a photo of Harry Kyle, taken in ’89. The guy was pretty fit, and muscly too.’

              ‘Okay, what’s your point?’

              Dani looked serious. ‘It just doesn’t ring true to me that Ian Cummings would have been able to attack Kyle in that flat and disable him so straightforwardly.’

              ‘Well, he didn’t, did he? Kyle was able to crawl into the bedroom and activate his police radio.’

              ‘Yes, but he sustained some nasty wounds in the assault. I would expect a bulky, well-trained officer like Kyle to be able to take on the malnourished Cummings with relative ease.’

              Morgan furrowed his brow. ‘So what are you suggesting?’

              Dani let out a breath. ‘I don’t think Cummings carried out those murders on his own. I believe he had an accomplice.’

Chapter 45

R
hodri Morgan carried the drinks back from the bar and set them down on the table, retrieving a couple of packets of nuts from his pocket to add to the haul.

              ‘There was the key-cutter,’ Morgan asserted. ‘He was an accomplice of sorts and received a five year sentence for his involvement. He was out in two.’

              ‘But he played no part in the murders themselves. I’m talking about another individual who was present in those flats when the men were tortured and killed.’

              ‘The detectives at the time never considered that a possibility. If there
was
another man involved, why didn’t Kyle say so? He was the only victim to survive.’

              ‘That’s what I can’t work out. The man left the force pretty soon after it all happened and has never given an interview about the case, as far as I can gather. I’d really like a chance to speak with him.’

              ‘Harry Kyle has been in New Zealand for twenty five years, I don’t rate your chances.’ Morgan sipped his pint thoughtfully. ‘The only other person who would know is Cummings himself.’

              ‘What’s he like?’

              Morgan set the glass down decisively. ‘A liar and a sociopath. I wouldn’t trust a single word that left his lips.’

              ‘So what kind of man would Cummings protect? If there was an associate, then Cummings has been shielding him for all these years, taking the blame for the crimes himself.’

              The Professor gave a thin smile. ‘That’s where your theory falls down, I fear. Ian Cummings is utterly selfish. I can’t see him putting another’s needs ahead of his own. He simply isn’t capable of it. In my clinical opinion, of course.’

              ‘Could you do me a favour?’

              ‘Yes, what is it?’

              ‘Would you re-examine the notes you made of your interviews with Cummings. Can you see if he said anything at all that hints at the role of another individual in these crimes?’

              ‘I’ll take a look, if you want me to. But if you don’t mind me saying so, shouldn’t you be focussing all of your attention on the murders here in Glasgow?’

              ‘My team are doing an excellent job on that, Professor Morgan. Somehow, my instincts are telling me to dig deeper into the London killings. I have a hunch it will help us with our current case.’

              ‘Well, you’re the detective.’ He raised his glass. ‘And I’m happy to follow orders.’

*

Bevan had already run a data check on Harry Kyle. He’d joined the Metropolitan Police in 1983, becoming a detective after five years on the beat. He left the force in late 1989, emigrating to Christchurch, New Zealand, with his new wife, Samantha.

              Kyle would now be fifty years old. Dani wheeled her seat closer to the desk and logged onto the police personnel database. Fortunately, the system had been automated for a long time and DC Kyle’s details were still recorded on the files. The addresses would all be out of date but it at least provided the DCI with the names of Kyle’s next of kin in the UK.

              It took only a matter of minutes to look up Kyle’s mother, Maureen. She’d attended a road safety seminar after committing a speeding offence three years ago. There was an address listed in east London. Bevan wasted no time in calling the number.

              ‘Hello?’

              ‘Good morning, is that Maureen Kyle?’

              ‘I don’t want to buy anything.’ The woman’s voice was weak and crackly.

              ‘I’m not selling, Mrs Kyle. My name is Detective Chief Inspector Bevan from the Glasgow division of Police Scotland. I’m trying to track down the whereabouts of your son, Harry.’

              ‘My son’s not in the police anymore. He hasn’t been for years.’

              ‘I realise that. I simply need to speak with him about an old case he worked on. Harry isn’t in any trouble. Do you have the contact details for him in New Zealand?’

              There was a moment’s silence. ‘They’re in Romford.’

              ‘I beg your pardon?’

              ‘Harry and Sam moved back here when my Alf was diagnosed with cancer. It was ten years back now. The kids were about to start at secondary school so it seemed like a good time.’

              Dani’s heart began to pump energetically. ‘Could I have a phone number for them?’

              ‘Well, I’d have to be sure of who you were first now wouldn’t I?’

              ‘Absolutely, Mrs Kyle. I will direct you to the Police Scotland website. Ring the number at the top of the page and ask the receptionist for me by name. They’ll be sure to put you straight through.’

Chapter 46

C
aitlin Hendry was becoming frustrated. She’d spent the entire morning looking into the background of Michael Lomond, like DC Mann had instructed her to. Tony’s father was a retired executive who had led an extremely boring and completely blameless existence. Hendry couldn’t understand why on earth they were spending so much time on this line of enquiry.

              When Alice had left her desk to go for lunch, Caitlin moved across to take the chair opposite Dan Clifton. ‘How are you progressing with the Douglas Ross case?’

              Dan furrowed his brow. ‘I’m going through all the witness statements from the original inquest. Then I’m planning to interview his son and daughter again. There must be some way of identifying his movements in the days leading up to his disappearance.’

              ‘Do we really think anyone’s going to remember what happened on a random March day eighteen years ago?’

              ‘People recall more than you’d expect. Anyway, Caitlin, that’s the job. A tiny little detail, one that seemed unimportant at the time, can break a case.’

              The younger woman rested her face in her hands and stared at him. ‘What if there was another way of going about this.’

              ‘How do you mean?’

              ‘The victims were all gay, right? So we’re definitely looking for someone who targets homosexuals. The men who were singled out all lived in commuter towns on the outskirts of Glasgow with excellent train links to the centre of town. They
clearly
met their killer on the gay scene in the city somewhere. We’ve drawn a total blank with the fairgrounds and traders on Glasgow Green.’ Caitlin paused, looking suddenly awkward.

              ‘So, what’s your thinking?’

              ‘You’re familiar with the gay scene, right? That’s got to provide an advantage for us. Our perpetrator has got a thing about married men, what with this whole wedding ring ritual he’s got going. So why don’t we get you a gold band to wear and you can spend a few nights out in town, see if we can’t flush this guy out of his dirty little burrow. We’ve even got that list you compiled, of the places Donald Calder frequented with his old boyfriend.’