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‘Months back. Isla never turned up for her last meeting, but that wasn’t unusual. Another date was scheduled this month, but by then she was dead. Isla’s movements have gone completely under the radar, for them as well as us.’

Shona sighed. She’d been hoping for more. Something, anything that filled out the picture of a girl whose whole life seemed to have been a spiral down to a violent death. Abuse, missing from home, addiction. Social services had done what they could, but no fairy godmother, no knight in shining armour was ever coming to save Isla. Shona wondered at what point Isla knew that. Seven or eight years old? Maybe even younger. The kids Sami was moving must have known that too. ‘What about Sami Raseem?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Nothing. Isn’t on their files. Which is no surprise, I suppose.’

Shona drained her cup. ‘Okay, thank you Kate.’ She gave her constable an appreciative smile. ‘Update me if you hear anything else from social services. Tell Murdo to come in. Let’s see where we are on other jobs.’

Murdo took Kate’s seat and ran through the case load, leaning on the far side of her desk while she nodded and jotted notes. Burglary, car theft, minor assault and a missing yacht.

‘What’s the name of the vessel?’ Shona asked without looking up.

Murdo flipped back a page, ‘The Solway Selkie, a Westerly Conway 36.’ He shrugged. ‘Doesnae mean a thing to me. Is that a big boat or a wee boat?’

‘Weekend cruiser. About ten metres long.’

‘So quite wee then. Not my idea of a fun weekend. It was moored up at Kingholm Quay. Owner just returned from a fortnight away.’

Shona pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘Worth about thirty grand. Probably stolen to order.’

‘Can you hotwire a yacht?’

‘Of course, same way you jump any diesel engine. Connect a battery across two wires on the solenoid. Bypass the starter button with one of your own. It’s not difficult.’ She pointed her pen at him in mock admonition. ‘You see Murdo, if you’d grown up on a council estate, you’d have known that.’

‘Oh right. Get many stray yachts in Glasgow, did you?’

‘No,’ she smirked. ‘Actually, Tommy showed me. We had a fella who dropped his keys in the Solway rowing back to his boat from the pub. You let the coastguard know about the theft and I’ll ask Tommy to keep his eyes open. Anything else?’

‘Nope, that’s the butcher’s bill.’ He closed his notebook. ‘Where are we with Isla Corr and the fella from the motorway? Need anything following up?’

Shona didn’t doubt Murdo’s loyalty for a second, but he was an old mate and admirer of DCI Baird. It was best her sergeant stayed out of things.

She shook her head. ‘Nothing outstanding. Any other issues? Cars? Overtime?’

‘Not at the minute.’ He got up to go, apparently unfazed by her reply. She thanked him.

Once she was alone, Shona slipped out the STAC guest list with its remaining candidates for Jamie Buckland’s assailant. She started from the top, googling each individual name. Most had an internet presence. Councillors, businessmen, Chamber of Commerce officials. The profiles were mainly older and flabbier than her person of interest, but one or two looked possible. She pulled up their pictures. What she really wanted was video. The suspect’s walk was distinctive; toes pointed slightly outward, the shoulder roll of a physically confident man. Vinny could probably ferret out something for her, but she couldn’t risk it. By mid-afternoon, after exhaustive searching, she reluctantly admitted that she hadn’t found a match.

She was stretching back in her chair, reaching up to the ceiling and rolling out tense shoulder muscles, when she spotted Dan Ridley coming into the office. He looked like he hadn’t slept; his normally immaculate pale blue shirt was un-ironed under his grey suit. His bloodshot eyes met her gaze. She summoned him into her office with a jerk of her head.

‘What is it?’

‘Err, I could really do with some advice.’

She checked her watch; twenty minutes before a meeting with the local Police, Fire and Rescue Sub-Committee. ‘Okay, close the door.’ She pointed to the vacant seat by her desk.

‘It’s Lambert,’ he said, sitting down.

He’d been reprimanded. She’d seen it coming. Her insistence on pursuing the Isla case had led a junior officer into bother. ‘If he’s telling you to step back from the Corr investigation you should do it.’

‘It’s not that. I’ve been working late, tackling the paperwork he’s dumped on me, following up Isla in my own time.’ Dan’s hands were jittery. He put his car keys in his pocket before taking them out again. ‘He’s been mouthing off about you. There’s something else. I overheard him on the phone to DCI Baird, Lambert saw me. When he’d finished, he came up to me. He had this big grin on his ugly mug. He said, don’t hook up with Shona Oliver, she’s not going to last.’

Shona felt a chill. She’d faced the challenges of the old-boy network her whole career. Even with Mars Bars Munroe’s support it seemed

she couldn’t escape it. Munroe was retiring soon, Baird his likely successor. Had he already decided he couldn’t work with her? Or was it what she feared, something that had followed her from London? Something that would wreck not just her career but her home life too?

Shona saw Dan watching her closely. ‘Thanks for the warning,’ she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. ‘If Lambert is targeting you, you must talk to your federation rep.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘And don’t worry. It’s the usual dick-swinging. I’m not going anywhere.’

Chapter 26

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