When all is dark, p.8
When All Is Dark, page 8
“Do you know where he was working before, Mrs Sinclair? Did his references provide an address?”
The woman’s cheeks flushed pink. “We never asked for any. Labour is very scarce here on North Dorga. We took Ian on for a probationary period. That was three years ago, there has never been any problem with his work. I’d go as far as to say he’s part of the family now.”
Eddie nodded. “Shall I make that tea, Mags?”
“Aye, if you wouldn’t mind. The mugs are in the cupboard.”
Dan noted how familiar the local detective was with the family. “Does Ian take holidays? Go home for Christmas, that kind of thing?”
“Like I said, I don’t believe there’s any such thing as home for Ian. Except here of course. He’s spent the last three Christmases with us.”
Dan was about to ask more when the door swung open and two burly young men stepped into the kitchen, a gust of wind swirling in with them, like an unwanted guest. Both stood stock still when they spotted the detectives seated at the table.
Dan got to his feet. “Ian Lester?”
The second man moved forward, his hair was dark and shoulder-length, swept into a quiff by the blustery conditions outside. He was at least six foot tall and wore a battered waxed jacket and heavy boots. “That’s me.”
“I am DC Clifton from Police Scotland, based in Glasgow. May I speak with you in private?”
Chapter 20
Maggie Sinclair insisted she set the fire in the open grate of the front sitting room before the detectives could interview Ian in there.
The young man was perched on the edge of a high-backed tapestry sofa which was threadbare and heavily worn. His rough hands were clasped together in his lap and his head hung down, revealing the thick dark swirls of his crown.
As the flames began dancing up the chimney, Eddie Shewan entered with a tray of teas. He set Ian’s on the coffee table in front of him. The young man didn’t seem to notice.
The local detective took a chair by the door, but their hostess made a hasty retreat. Dan felt annoyed that Eddie was staying, although he knew his rancour wasn’t really justified. This was his jurisdiction, after all.
Dan waited until the woman had closed the door gently behind her. “Can you confirm that you are Ian David Lester, born on 25th January 1994 in Inverness, to Quentin and Fiona Lester?”
The young man nodded dolefully.
This would have to do. They weren’t in an official interview. “I’m sorry to have to inform you, Ian, that your father, Quentin Lester, was found dead in his hotel room in Glasgow on 1st November. We have been trying to locate you ever since to break the news. Your father was identified by his medical records.”
Ian finally glanced up. His expression was one of absolute surprise. “Dad’s dead?”
“I’m afraid so. The cause of death was a very serious heart attack.” Dan was at least relieved not to have to elaborate on the manner of the man’s demise at this stage.
“D-do I need to come and identify him?” The man stuttered.
“Not if you don’t wish to. That was done via video link by his current employer as we couldn’t locate a next of kin at the time.”
Ian rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I haven’t seen Dad in a few years. We never really got on very well. Actually, I thought he was living in Africa?”
The detectives exchanged glances.
“Your father returned from Tanzania in 2018,” Tyler explained gently.
Ian reached for the mug of tea and slurped a mouthful. “Where’s he been in the meantime?”
“He was working for a children’s charity in Stirling. He was well regarded in his job, that’s why he was chosen as a delegate for the climate conference.”
Ian’s vision skittered around the room before resting again on his lap, he appeared confused. “Dad was at the COP26 conference when he died?”
“Yes, he was discovered in his hotel room by security staff, when he didn’t turn up for a seminar.”
Dan shuffled forward in his seat. “We wouldn’t have come all this way if your father had simply died of natural causes. From the way we discovered your father’s body, it was clear the heart attack was brought on by a very violent attack. We have a murder team working on the case.”
Ian began shaking his head vigorously. “None of this makes any sense.”
Dan was surprised the young man wasn’t more interested in the circumstances of his father’s death. “Can you think of any reason why someone would want your father dead? Any enemies he had; arguments or disputes with people?”
Ian wrung his hands. “I told you, I’d not had any contact with him since he went to Africa. That’s over five years ago. I don’t know anything about him.”
“You must have had a pretty strong disagreement to have become so completely estranged?” It was Eddie who made this point.
Ian turned to the officer and replied. “Dad was very rigid, he wanted me and my sister to go to university and settle into an office job. It wasn’t what either of us wanted. When we didn’t do what he expected of us, he lost interest. There was no big argument.”
“That would be Elinor, your older sister? We haven’t been able to trace her yet, or your mother?” Dan asked.
“Mum lives in Edinburgh, she’s got a husband and a new life. Elinor is now called Billi something. She changed her name by deed poll yonks ago, she hangs around with eco-types. She doesn’t have a permanent address, so I wouldn’t rate your chances of finding her.”
“Does she have any links to the Earth’s Saviours group? They are very high profile at the moment, what with the climate conference being hosted in Scotland.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t know. Most of the folk she hangs about with are hippy types, doped up and away with the fairies. I don’t expect any of them really know what it’s like to make a living from the earth.”
“If you could provide us with a name and address for your mother then, that would be most helpful.”
“Yeah, sure.” Ian waved his hand dismissively. “But don’t expect her to give a shit Dad’s dead. I don’t suppose he’s even crossed her mind in fifteen years.”
Dan modulated his tone so it was soft, cajoling. “And what about you, Ian? Has your father crossed your mind in the last few years?”
The man before them sat up straight and made a rigid line with his mouth. “No, he hasn’t. I don’t think about any of them. I’ve a new life here now and I’m happy with it.”
Dan watched him carefully; his posture was defiant, but the moisture just evident around his eyes revealed to the detective what he’d been told wasn’t entirely the case.
*
The Hilux hurled along the eastern road, back towards St Martin; a fierce sheet of rain lashing the windscreen, causing the old wipers to creak against the strain.
“Where was Maggie’s husband today?” Dan asked, raising his voice above the screech of the wiper blades.
“Roy would be out on deliveries. They’ve got a van that they fill with their sausages and steaks. The butchers in the village take most of it, but he’ll deliver to some of the more out of the way houses too, away in the west.”
“Does Ian get on well with Roy?”
“Aye, I’d definitely say so. He travels in the van wi’ ‘im sometimes, as does Stevie and their youngest, Joe. It seems to me that Ian has found himself another family he likes better than his old one.”
Dan nodded in agreement, glancing out of the window at the darkening sky and curtain of rain. Ian Lester had travelled to the edge of the world to escape his old family, but fortune had smiled on him when he was taken in by a new one.
Would a difference in outlook really precipitate such a complete break between father and son? Dan had been in the job long enough to smell when there was something more. There was definitely another reason why this family went its separate ways. But the question was, did it have anything to do with Quentin Lester’s murder? That was still as unclear as the current view out of Eddie Shewan’s rain splattered windscreen.
Chapter 21
A group had gathered around Klara Laska’s adopted workstation. Dermot had invited Alice, Sharon and the DCI to hear what the woman had so far discovered.
Klara had her laptop open, facing the officers. She began speaking, as if delivering a familiar seminar. “We cannot really use the term modus operandi in relation to the killer of Quentin Lester, as in criminology terms, it suggests a common methodology in the organisation and manner of a killing. So far, we only have one murder, therefore, we cannot attribute a pattern.”
“But this person could have killed before, in a case outside our jurisdiction, or copied the MO of another perpetrator? It’s so unusual for a murder scene to be ‘dressed’ in such an elaborate manner,” Dani suggested.
Klara nodded. “Precisely, which is why I am here to perform the analysis of the data.”
Sharon pulled out a wheelie chair and sat down with a bump, wishing this prim consultant would cut the lecture and deliver her results.
The analyst continued. “From the forensic and circumstantial evidence, it seemed to me that our killer is inexperienced; there was much preparation ahead of the crime, but in the heat of the attack, the stake did not penetrate the victim’s heart and the gown was pulled onto the body hastily after death. They only narrowly escaped discovery by the security services. Yet the dressing of the scene indicates the perpetrator has a point they wish to make. I have the feeling this is the first murder they have committed, but not the last.”
“So, have you found any matches with our MO?” Alice was also trying to keep the frustration out of her tone.
Klara tapped at her keypad. A list appeared on the screen. “I examined the records for the whole of the UK over the past ten years. There have been multiple cases of fatal stabbings during this time, but the majority were gang related, or occurred on the streets of big cities as part of a robbery. Lester was not robbed of his possessions so I discounted those. I found no reference at all to academic gowns, black cloaks or any other similar item in conjunction with a violent death.” Klara reached for a water bottle and took a sip. “Then I looked for stabbings with a cross-shaped object, or a wooden stake. There were a handful, which I have listed here.”
“Can we have a copy of that list?” Dani asked.
“Sure, I will email them to you all,” Klara replied. “In one case, a sharpened wooden post was driven into the chest of a man during a house party which had descended into a brawl. Another man was arrested at the scene and is now in prison.”
“Sounds nasty, but nothing really like our case,” Dermot added.
“No, I agree. Another man was stabbed with a letter opener which had an ecclesiastical cross pattern on the handle. The perpetrator was his wife, apparently after years of domestic abuse.”
Dani was beginning to become frustrated, she was thinking about the discussion she’d had with Andy a couple of days before. “These cases don’t really bear any resemblance to ours. Perhaps the dressing of the scene is a red-herring? Someone wants to confuse us with the mixed messaging of the cross and the gown, to lead us down a blind alley?”
“This is certainly possible,” Klara continued. “But whatever the reason for the choice of MO, it still reveals something about our killer.”
Alice had been scanning the list over the analyst’s shoulder. “How about this case, it took place in Scotland a couple of years back? A woman in her late fifties was drowned in her bathtub.”
“Yes,” Klara interrupted, her tone indicating she didn’t appreciate being pre-empted. “Mabel Flett, 58 years old, was discovered by her husband when he returned to their house in Caithness on 10th April 2017. The bathroom was awash with water, the woman was fully clothed, bent double over the tub with her face submerged. Death was by drowning. The reason it flagged up as a match with our murder is that her hands had been bound behind her back with strips of dried palm leaves which had cut into her skin as she struggled against her attacker. It turned out the strips had come from one of those palm crosses they give out in church services over Easter. There were no prints left at the scene. No sign of a break-in. The husband had an alibi. No arrest has ever been made.”
Dani’s interest was now piqued. “Have you got access to any crime scene photos?”
Klara nodded, opening an attachment and moving the laptop forward so the group could get a good view and flicking through the pictures like a slideshow.
Alice squinted her eyes at the images. “There was definitely one hell of a struggle, there’s water all over the bathroom floor. I’m amazed there was enough left in the bath to drown her.”
“It doesn’t take much water to drown a person in,” Sharon added levelly, “especially when you’ve got your face pressed down in it.”
The DCI looked at Dermot. “You were the only one of us who saw the scene of Lester’s murder. What do you think? Any connection?”
Dermot had been examining the pictures closely. “There are signs of a significant struggle here, whereas at the Lester murder, almost none. In our case, the cross was the murder weapon, here it was used purely to restrain. The body in this case is fully clothed, yet Lester was naked except for the socks, shirt and gown. There were sexual overtones present in our case but not here, not from what I can see. I’d like to fully review the case notes though.”
Alice sighed. “Are there any other matches in your list?”
Klara shook her head. “The remainder are stabbings with stake-like objects, in all cases a perpetrator was arrested and charged. But I can take these parameters back further than ten years?” She glanced at Dermot for his approval.
Abruptly, Sharon got to her feet and leant in closer to the screen, upsetting a cardboard cup with the dregs of a take-out coffee in it which dribbled onto a stack of documents. “What’s that in the corner of the image? Can you zoom in for us?”
Klara raised her eyebrows at this ungainly outburst. “Okay. The left hand corner segment, yes?”
Sharon nodded vigorously.
The image became more pixelated at this magnification, but there was definitely an item visible to the side of the photograph; a blur of brown and red.
“What the hell is it?” Dani asked with interest.
“It’s a teddy bear, Ma’am,” Sharon replied. “With a bright red bow around its neck.”
“Is it mentioned in the crime scene reports?” Dani directed her question at the analyst.
“Yes, it was found underneath the sink, to the right of the body. The Fletts had a couple of grandchildren and it was assumed to have belonged to one of them.”
“Did the husband confirm this?” Dani snapped.
Klara shrugged. “I don’t have access to all the files, I’m sorry.”
Dani turned to Dermot. “Can you request those files from Highlands and Islands? Let’s get a more detailed description of that crime scene. The murder took place in Caithness. We know Lester had connections to Inverness and the Orkneys, through his estranged son. It’s worth checking this out further.”
“So, what if the teddy bear didn’t belong to the grandkids?” Alice asked her boss.
“Then it was a part of the killer’s staging,” Dani replied carefully. “I’ve got no idea how it could link to our murder, but I want to find out more before we discount it.”
Chapter 22
The terrible weather hadn’t let up. Dan stared out of the bay window of the only pub in St Martin, staring at the rain bouncing off the road outside and the boats bobbing in the bay.
Tyler carried a couple of pints to their table. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to sail back to Kirkwall in that.”
Dan took a long sup of his lager. “No. The landlord told me the ferry won’t run in these conditions. He’s got a couple of spare rooms upstairs that I’ve booked for the night.”
“Well, I’m relieved we aren’t sailing in a storm, but to be honest, I’m not keen on spending much longer on this island.” He lowered his voice to a rasp.
“Me neither. The internet connection comes and goes. I had to relay all the information we gathered from our interview with Ian Lester to DI Muir down the phone in the hallway. It’s hardly the most confidential way to share evidence.”
Tyler sipped his drink thoughtfully. “At least the team back at Pitt Street can track down Lester’s ex-wife. We had a full name to give them.”
“Yes, Fiona Black. According to Ian, she remarried in 2005 and lives in Colinton. Although, the address may be out of date, he wasn’t sure.”
Tyler shook his head. “I suppose I can understand Ian having a falling out with his dad. But why does he see so little of his mum, too? He’s about my age. He’s spending his youth living up there on that Godforsaken farm. I don’t get it.”
“Some folk don’t get on with their families. I’ve got plenty of friends who haven’t spoken with their parents since coming out. I was one of the lucky ones.”
“Yeah, I get that. But do you reckon it was something like that with Ian? He said his dad was too strict and wanted him to be more academic, but maybe he’s gay too and his dad didn’t like it? He was of an older generation?”
Dan took several gulps of his drink. “It could be the case, but I certainly didn’t pick up that vibe from Ian. In the cases of the people I know, as soon as they come out to their family they tend to head for the cities that have a thriving gay scene; where they will find like-minded people and be accepted; like Glasgow, London or Manchester.” He glanced around at the old fashioned surroundings of the lounge bar, where the curtains had gold tassels and the wallpaper was a riot of velvet flock. “They certainly wouldn’t come here.”
Tyler laughed. “You’ve got that right. Although, it’s so dated in this place it’s almost kitsch.”
Dan chuckled too. “Yeah, almost.”
They finished the rest of their drinks in silence.
“Come on,” Dan announced, placing his empty glass on the table. “Let’s turn in and hope that conditions have improved by morning.”
