Perfect Dead: A gripping crime thriller that will keep you hooked

Chapter Fifteen

Back in Dumfries, Lind sighed and, with a heavy heart, picked up the phone. The remains might not be those of Ailish, but he knew that her sister Maureen would want to be told of the grisly find at the earliest opportunity.

‘Hello, can I speak to Maureen Kerrigan, please?’

‘Detective Lind, is that you?’ asked the soft lilting voice. ‘Dear God, have they found her? Is she …?’

‘We’ve found the remains of a body. There’s nothing to say it’s your sister yet, but I wanted you to hear it from me first.’

‘I see,’ she said with a catch in her voice. ‘You’ll keep me in the loop?’

‘Always,’ he said and heard the tears start to come as she replaced the receiver.

He had been the officer in charge of the investigation into her disappearance over three years ago. Given the kind of life she had been living back then, the most likely explanation was that she had simply run off after a tiff with her boyfriend. However, when her elder sister, Maureen, had come over from Ireland to report her missing, he had thought that theory did not sit very well with the text Ailish had sent the morning she disappeared. He had persuaded the Super to let him launch an investigation that had turned up precisely nothing. As with all missing person cases, there had been a number of alleged sightings, but none had turned out to be concrete. He had been left with a niggling feeling of failure. Beyond the bare fact of her disappearance, there had been no evidence then or since to suggest that she had come to any harm. Of course, it might not even be her.

His mobile rang. It was Laura. There was a time not so long ago when unexpectedly hearing her voice lifted his spirits. These days, he was so perplexed and unsettled by her behaviour that his stomach would flip with dread. He accepted the call and frowned as Laura’s voice announced that she was unable to collect the children from school as something had come up. He could hear laughter and music in the background. Her speech was slurred.

‘Laura, I can’t simply drop everything.’

‘But you expect me to?’ she snapped.

‘A body has been found,’ he said, attempting to remonstrate with her.

‘So? If it’s dead, what’s the hurry?’

‘Have you been drinking?’

‘And what if I have?’

He could tell this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. Someone was egging her on in the background. Probably that new so-called friend of hers.

‘Fine. I’ll pick them up,’ he said and terminated the call, feeling the first opening salvo of a killer headache.

At least he knew that Farrell was en route to the new crime scene. He could rely on him not to stuff things up. It wasn’t the first time recently that Laura had phoned him out of the blue to collect the kids from school and nursery. He had a feeling she was pushing the self-destruct button. Ever since she had lost the baby last year, she had been various versions of the person he married, but never the same one. He had hoped that the worst was behind them but since she had met that woman at her support group things had deteriorated.

He glanced at his watch. There was a scheduled briefing for the Monro Stevenson case at 4 p.m. He would need to take that in Farrell’s absence, which would still give him time to collect the kids and deposit them somewhere. But where? They were too young to come into the station.

As if in answer to his prayers, DI Moore popped her head around his door. There were deep shadows under her eyes. She looked exhausted.

‘Kate! Shouldn’t you have been away hours ago?’

‘I’m just heading off, John. Been going through the forgery case files forwarded by Glasgow with a fine-tooth comb, but we have so little to go on. I’m still trying to get hold of the CCTV footage from Broughton House. DC Thomson’s idea. Smart lad.’

‘Yes, he’s shaping up nicely. Actually, Kate, I don’t suppose? No forget it. You get along.’

‘John, if you need me to do something, get to the point. I can always say no,’ she said.

‘It’s more in the nature of a personal favour,’ he said.

‘Go on,’ she said.

‘Could you possibly pick up the kids from school and nursery?’

‘I would LOVE to!’ She beamed, looking suddenly less tired.

‘Really? You honestly don’t mind?’

‘Your kids are adorable, John. It’s hardly a hardship.’

Only to their mother, thought Lind.

‘Brilliant! I owe you one, Kate. I’ll give the nursery a ring to let them know you’ll be collecting them.’

‘What about car seats and whatnot?’ she asked.

‘Both Laura and I have them, and I’m insured for any driver,’ he said, handing her his car keys. ‘I’ll get back as soon as I can.’

‘Take your time. I’m not due on until the morning.’

‘I need to cover the briefing at 4 p.m. then I should be able to relieve you and work from home for a bit.’

‘Is Laura all right? She’s not unwell, is she?’

‘No,’ said Lind. ‘Maybe … to be honest I don’t really know,’ he sighed.

‘Give it time, she’s been through a lot.’

‘You’re right. I need to try harder.’

‘If you ever want a weekend away, I’d be happy to look after them. I could rope Frank in. They love running him ragged.’

‘Thanks, Kate. I might take you up on that!’

‘I hear they’ve found some remains out at Dundrennan?’

‘Frank and Mhairi are down there now, to secure the scene with SOCO. Given where the remains are located, I suspect foul play has been involved. It’s on MoD property, the firing range. They’ll no doubt be sending a couple of officers to breathe down our necks.’

‘Another body, though, in that general area? Could be pertinent to the forgery ring?’

‘Could also be that missing girl from three years ago, Ailish Kerrigan. I had to phone her sister and warn her of the possibility.’

‘That can’t have been an easy call.’

‘No. Her family have been to Hell and back. Anyway, no point in speculating until the pathologist has had a chance to inspect the remains. What with Monro Stevenson and now this? We’re keeping him busy.’

‘I’ll get off then,’ she said. ‘Take as long as you need.’

Chapter Sixteen

Farrell sat in the car fuming beside an equally twitchy McLeod, with her mobile clamped to one ear. In front of them was a barrier with the words:

No entry by order of Ministry of Defence. Danger. Unexploded Ordnance.

Behind them was a car containing a couple of officers from Kirkcudbright.

‘This is ridiculous. We need to get in there now and secure that scene. How long are these jokers going to be?’ said Farrell.

‘You’re not going to like it,’ she said, ending the call.

‘Tell me anyway.’

‘The MoD are sending someone down from Glasgow. It’s going to be around two and a half hours.’

‘Well, there’s no point hanging about here for that length of time. Did you get the details of who discovered the remains?’

‘Yes,’ she said, scrolling through her phone. ‘Ted Jarvis, tenant farmer. Lives down a track beside the range. As such, he’s authorized to go on the land at his own risk for farming purposes.’

‘Right, that settles it. We’ll head off there first.’

Farrell got out and approached the car behind. It was being driven by the officer who had attended the death in Kirkcudbright, PC Calum McGhie.

‘I’m sorry but we can’t advance any further until the MoD arrive, which won’t be for another couple of hours. I’m going to need you guys to wait here until then.’

‘Yes, sir,’ PC McGhie responded, looking glum.

They made a U turn for the second time that day and headed back out to the main road, with Farrell keeping one eye on the satnav. It was so incredibly remote out here that it was nothing short of a miracle the remains had been discovered at all. It was a vast area and ran right alongside the rugged coastline. A thought occurred to him.

‘That forgery case you’re working on with DI Moore, Mhairi, if they’ve disappeared off the radar they may be using this land to smuggle the forged pieces out. It’s so desolate they would have virtually no chance of detection.’

‘It’s possible. Look, there’s the turning there!’

The road was so narrow, Farrell had almost missed it. Little more than a dirt track winding down to a whitewashed farmhouse that had seen better days. A sheepdog ran out barking followed by a wizened old man clad in so many layers he could have passed for a scarecrow. He bade the dog come to heel and stood waiting for them while they parked in his yard, taking care to avoid the clucking disapproval of the hens. A cockerel that reminded Farrell of DS Byers strutted in front of them.

‘Mr Jarvis?’ Farrell said, taking the old farmer’s wrinkled hand in his own. The man’s grip was strong. He wasn’t as frail as he looked.

‘Aye, that’s me, lad. Gave me a fair turn, seeing what I did. Best come in. I’ll stick the kettle on. You too, lass.’

Once they were settled at the kitchen table with mugs of hot sweet tea, he began.

‘I was out with Jess,’ nodding at the dog lying by his feet, ‘looking for a stray sheep, when she raced up that yonder hill into a bit of woodland and stood there barking. I shouted at her, but she wasn’t for budging, so I hauled myself to the top to see what she’d found, thinking it was a dead deer or a fox.’

He paused, relishing the telling of it. This told Farrell that the remains weren’t much more than bones, or he would have been more upset. He figured the old man was lonely, didn’t get the chance to talk often, so let him continue at his own pace instead of trying to hurry him up. He could see Mhairi’s foot jiggling impatiently on the worn tiles, but she too bit her lip.

‘Well, I got up there and could immediately see that the bones were human, so I called off the dog, fetched back here and called you lot. Seemed an odd place to dump a body. Giving yourself all that work slogging up the hill? Didn’t make sense when you could’ve heaved it over the cliffs. It wasn’t even as though the bones were dug up. Just sitting on the surface they were. Mind you, they might have been buried at one point. We had some mighty wild storms this winter.’

Farrell stood up, followed by Mhairi.

‘Can you take us to the remains?’

‘Aye, lad, that I can. It’s a fair way mind. Might be best to take the tractor?’

Farrell ignored the pleading look from Mhairi. He couldn’t run the risk of destroying any trail of evidence. Shanks’s pony it was then. They set off, struggling to keep up with the farmer, who was as fit as a flea. The land was very exposed to the elements, but with spectacular sea views. They could hear the roar below as the waves pounded into the cliffs.

‘What about the unexploded ordnance?’ asked Mhairi, looking as though she expected to be blown to smithereens at any moment.

‘Och, never you mind about that, lass,’ the farmer chortled. ‘More likely to be hit crossing the road.’

After a couple of miles, Jarvis stopped, pointing to a straggly copse of trees on top of a hill.

‘Straight up there. You can’t miss it. Will you be able to find your own way back? I’ve got plenty of stuff to do at the farm.’

Farrell thanked him. He handed a pair of plastic shoe covers to Mhairi and put on some himself. They climbed cautiously up the hill trying not to dislodge any stones or rocks as they went. On reaching the summit, they were breathing heavily. It had been steeper than it looked from a distance. As they moved carefully through the trees they could see the exposed bones lying in a small mossy clearing. They had clearly been placed in a shallow grave.

‘That’s odd,’ said Farrell, frowning. ‘The soil seems to have been turned over recently, but the bones are old.’

‘Look at those marks,’ said Mhairi, pointing to some indentations in the soil.

‘Someone has been up here not long ago, which means the bones were either brought here from elsewhere …’

‘Or someone wanted to take a little trip down memory lane,’ finished Mhairi. ‘About three years ago a girl went missing from this area, an Ailish Kerrigan. It was one of DCI Lind’s cases. He always felt that something bad had happened to her.’

They retraced their steps carefully back down the hill and sat overlooking the sea, while they waited for SOCO. Mhairi perched on a rock and turned her white face up to the winter sun, which was now beating down on them with more fervour than normal for a January afternoon. A buzzard looped lazily around, silent and deadly. The seabirds squabbled endlessly on the cliffs.

Farrell sat awkwardly on another rock. There was something rotten in this sleepy little town. Evil had burrowed under its skin and he was going to have to excise it using all means at his disposal. Comfortable in the silence, he closed his eyes for a few moments and prayed.

‘Sir!’ Mhairi shook his arm, startling him. He should have known better than to think she would give him five minutes’ peace.

‘They’re coming! I can see them in the distance.’

They both scrambled to their feet and waved at the procession of bodies marching determinedly in single file towards them. As the group got closer they could see that there was an army officer leading the two SOCOs, Phil Tait and Janet White, followed by the two Kirkcudbright officers, DS Byers and another army officer bringing up the rear.

As the army officers advanced, with their military bearing very much in evidence, Farrell had to fight the urge to stiffen to attention. He could hear a stifled giggle from McLeod and shot her a quelling glare, which if anything seemed to make her worse.

The leading officer approached Farrell with an outstretched hand. He had been half expecting him to salute.

‘Lieutenant Benjamin Wood, at your service,’ he said.

‘DI Farrell, and DC McLeod,’ answered Farrell. ‘Sorry to drag you all the way here. How did you get down so quickly?’

‘We were at a training course nearby.’

‘What about the risk of unexploded ordnance, Lieutenant?’ Farrell asked.

DS Byers looked worried. Nobody had filled him in then. Mind you, if he ran true to form he would be more concerned about ruining his expensive shoes than getting blown up.

‘Is this part we’re in at the moment safe?’ asked Byers.

‘As far as we know,’ the lieutenant replied. ‘Shells can veer dramatically off course. Don’t touch any suspicious objects, look where you’re placing your feet, and you should be fine.’

‘I’m going up there now with SOCO and, once they’ve done the necessary, the remains can be removed to the morgue at Dumfries and Galloway Royal Infirmary,’ said Farrell. ‘I’m afraid we won’t know much until the pathologist has carried out an analysis and we’ve obtained the results of the lab tests, soil samples etcetera.’

He returned up the hill with Phil and Janet, shrouded in their white plastic overalls and shoe covers. From past experience he didn’t dare to offer to lug Janet’s heavy kit bag for her. The scathing retort the first time he had tried had been enough. She might be small but she must pack some muscle.

He pointed out the salient features of the scene then carefully retraced his steps, leaving the SOCOs to carry on with their work unimpeded. By the time he reached the small group, he saw that relations had thawed to the extent that the younger of the two military men was passing his card to Mhairi. Byers looked like a thundercloud. Farrell wished he could just move on. It was never going to happen.

‘Any further forward, sir?’ Byers asked.

‘Not really, there are markings in the ground that might suggest someone was up there recently.’

‘DS Byers, can you wait here, along with the two local officers, and manage the scene until the remains are removed? DC McLeod and I need to get back to Dumfries and take stock in relation to where we are with the other investigation.’

Byers nodded. Farrell might not like the man but he was efficient and thorough when called upon. Solid backup, unlike DS Stirling, who wouldn’t blow his own nose without a risk assessment.

As they returned to the car, at a brisk pace, Mhairi looked at the gadget on her wrist and announced: ‘That’s me done 20,000 steps so far. Not bad, eh?’

‘I refuse to be drawn in to this insanity,’ said Farrell.

‘You should get one, sir. After all, we do have to be able to catch criminals, don’t we?’

‘Usually, using our minds rather than our bodies, but I could still leave you standing, DC McLeod, so don’t get too cocky.’

Chapter Seventeen

Lind pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition, leaning his head back against the headrest. He lowered the window and sucked in a lungful of freezing air as if it could push out the blackness that was threatening to engulf him. He couldn’t give in. He had to stay strong for his family. Laura had pulled far away from him and he was at a loss as to how to fix things between them. The stars twinkled remotely, indifferent to his problems.

Sighing, he climbed out of the car, the frosty air stiffening his bones. Hiding out here would solve nothing. Straightening his shoulders, he pasted on a smile in readiness and tried to inject some energy into his steps as he let himself in. The silence was unusual this early. He went into the living room.

DI Moore was sitting on the sofa with his youngest child, Adam, cuddled into her. He was fast asleep. Not for the first time he noticed how comfortable she was around children and thought she would make a wonderful mother. She was reading her Kindle and looked up and smiled as he entered, holding a finger to her lips.

‘He wouldn’t settle,’ she whispered. ‘He was wanting his mum. I’ve only just got him off.’

After he had taken his sleepy son from her and tucked him in to his cot without protest, he returned downstairs.

DI Moore was putting on her jacket.

‘Sorry, I kept you longer than I said, Kate. I thought Laura would have been home by now. I should have checked. Did she phone?’

‘Sorry, no. I expect she was caught up in something and didn’t notice the time,’ she said, ever the diplomat.

‘Kids behave themselves?’

‘We had great fun,’ she said, looking like she meant it. ‘It was a pleasure, John, honestly!’

He imagined coming home to her calm tranquillity every night and pushed the thought away before it had time to take hold. What was wrong with him tonight?

‘Things are certainly hotting up at work,’ she said, as she was leaving.

‘So it would seem. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a very long day,’ said Lind.

He checked in on the kids and found them all fast asleep. Molly was the spitting image of Laura, with her long dark curls spilling over the pillow. However, she wasn’t a tomboy like her mother had been when they were growing up; she was a quiet bookish child who took her role as big sister very seriously. He removed the book from her bed and carefully saved the page, before putting it on her bedside table.

His four-year-old twins, Luke and Hugh, were sprawled in their bunk beds. Since the events of last year they had ceased to dress alike. Their matching duvet covers had gone. Lind felt sad that even that innocent pleasure had been taken from them.

Finally, he looked in on Adam, who was still fast asleep in his cot. Satisfied, he went back downstairs. A murder and the remains of a body all within the space of a few days. Nothing to link them, but it was Kirkcudbright, for goodness’ sake! This was far from normal. There was also a forgery ring running out of there, if intelligence was to be believed. Much would depend on the identity of the bones as to how things went from here. He had a bad feeling about it all that he couldn’t shake. It didn’t help that he knew nothing whatsoever about art. Unless it was a nice watercolour, he was completely at a loss. Fortunately, DI Moore had a fair grasp of the subject. The house felt even emptier now she was gone. Where on earth was Laura?

He decided not to wait up as he knew from recent experience that she was likely to come in spoiling for a fight. He fought the temptation to crack open a couple of beers and took himself off to bed even though it wasn’t yet ten. Things would seem better in the morning.

The sound of laughter woke him. He glanced at his watch and saw it was after three. Laura was clearly drunk, and she had company. This just wasn’t on. If he didn’t get them to call time now, next thing the kids would be awake and it would be a wailing match all round.

He entered the living room and stopped short. Laura was dressed to kill in an electric blue dress he had never seen before, but the make-up had slid off her face giving her a clownish appearance. She was absolutely steaming. There was no point in having it out with her now. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the brassy blonde sitting sprawled beside her on the couch, legs akimbo, her short skirt leaving little to the imagination.

‘Get a good look, did you?’ she said, catching his gaze, giving him a nasty stare.

This woman was trouble. He had met her type before. And now Laura, his gentle sweet wife, was in thrall to this creature. He stifled his rage and said as mildly as he could manage: ‘Laura, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?’