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Dan was flipping through the pages of his notebook. ‘Neither of our victims were reported missing. They’re both from vulnerable groups, easy targets. Maybe that’s the connection?’
‘Go on.’
‘We’re looking for at least two people. What if they’re a killing team? The dominant partner could be the individual in the back of the van, and the submissive partner the facilitator, the driver.’
‘If you’re thinking serial killers, you need at least three incidences to pursue that line,’ she reminded him.
‘What if there are more? Killings with body depositions on the border? There’s a lot of rural areas…’
She held up her hand to stop him. ‘Let’s work with what we’ve got. We’ve already run it through HOLMES and other Home Office systems nationally, nothing’s come up.’
‘There’s no link we can see between the victims, but what if the killers were mission-orientated, picking people they thought didn’t deserve to live? Or hedonistic or control-driven, killing for pleasure or feelings of power? That fits for a duo.’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve checked with Murdo. We don’t get that many unexplained deaths here, so he’d know. I can’t guarantee there are no unrecovered victims out in the hills, but what we need now is evidence.’ Shona closed her notebook and leaned forward on the window sill, rubbing her face with her hands and shaking her head.
‘What is it?’ asked Ridley.
‘I’m just thinking of Isla. Her father, Gringo, Saltire. Her killer or killers. How can a woman collect so many complete bastards in one life? You’d think the odds were against it. Poor wee girl.’
* * *
Murdo met Shona and Dan as they climbed the stairs back to the CID office. His face was set hard.
‘Baird’s been on the blower,’ he said without preamble. ‘That little shit Saltire has been mouthing off on social media about police harassment and general incompetence. Our local MP and MSP have both been complaining about the lack of arrests on the baby milk case and the media want to know if the motorway victim is a Nazi contract killing. It’s not been the best of mornings.’
‘Get the team together, Murdo,’ Shona ordered, hurrying up the remaining steps. ‘I’ll have a word with Baird later.’ She reached the door on the land
ing and turned to see Dan standing halfway up, unsure of his next move. ‘Well, are you coming, or not?’
He took the stairs two at a time and followed Murdo in the CID office where Kate and Ravi were both sitting glumly at their desks.
Shona swept into her office. The Skype alert flashed on her laptop screen with DCI Gavin Baird’s tag. She considered declining it, but if he’d already been onto Murdo he must have been looking for her. She checked her phone, which she’d switched to silent for the Saltire interview. A line of missed calls and texts showed up. Shit. She hurriedly shut the door, dragged her chair to the desk, smoothed her hair and blouse, and took a deep breath. She pressed the green phone icon and Baird’s disgruntled face appeared.
‘Shona,’ he growled, ‘what’s been going on down there?’
‘I’m sorry, I was in interview and couldn’t take your calls, sir,’ she said calmly. An image of when she’d last seen him, leaning over her in the hotel corridor, swam up in her mind. He couldn’t have forgotten what happened. He didn’t even have the decency to look shame-faced. She clenched her jaw.
‘Mars Bar Munroe’s been bending my ear. What’s this about a Nazi killing gang patrolling the border picking off immigrants?’
It had Saltire’s dabs all over it. He’d obviously been briefing the press as a result of this morning’s interview. By showing his outrage Saltire was effectively protecting himself from criticism of his more extreme fascist views and positioning himself as a representative of all concerned citizens. She’d thought his connection to Isla would curb his tongue, but she’d been wrong.
‘That’s not our line, sir,’ Shona replied. ‘A suspicious death involving a man of Middle-Eastern appearance…’
‘I know what it’s about, what I want to know is what you’re doing to wrap it up.’
‘Sorry, sir?’
‘I’ve seen the PM details. Fractured skull after falling from a moving vehicle. I’ve spoken to the fiscal, we agree that this is currently a road traffic accident until proven otherwise.’
‘We think he was pushed from the van.’
‘You think? Thinking isn’t good enough,’ Baird snapped.
‘The driver didn’t stop,’ Shona countered. ‘The van was recovered burnt out.’
‘Then the driver is guilty of failing to stop at the scene of an accident. When you find him, or her, you can charge them with that offence. Understand?’
‘Yes, sir, I understand completely.’
