The Killing Tide Read online

  Erling indicated they hadn’t. ‘And it would be easy enough to dispose of it overboard.’

  ‘We also collected vomit from the crime scene,’ Rhona said. ‘Which we can compare with the stomach contents of the victims.’

  ‘Do we have a passenger list or captain’s log?’ Neville tried.

  ‘No. We have no idea who was on the ship when this happened or what happened to them, other than the three bodies left behind.’

  ‘The Orlova’s a ghost ship,’ Chrissy said. ‘It doesn’t really exist.’

  17

  ‘Cleverly’s flying up for the PM, and you’ve to pick him up at the airport,’ Janice informed him on entry.

  ‘What?’ McNab struggled to deal with a sentence that contained the words Cleverly and PM in it, since he disliked both.

  ‘The boss’s orders,’ Janice added, examining him more closely.

  It was, McNab thought, like being sniffed all over by a Rottweiler.

  ‘Are you hung over?’ she eventually demanded.

  McNab considered the question. There had been drink taken last night. Red wine with the meal, and whisky afterwards with the coffee, and later back at his place.

  God. He’d taken Mary back to his flat, he recalled again with horror. What was he thinking?

  But she hadn’t stayed, he reminded himself. She’d called a taxi and gone home to her big house overlooking the park. Her husband might be banged up, but Mary still maintained the lifestyle he’d provided for her.

  ‘I am not hung over,’ he said, in part to convince himself. ‘Anything else you need to tell me?’

  ‘The boss wants a word.’ His partner gave him one of her sweetest smiles. ‘As soon as you arrive.’

  McNab composed himself before knocking on the glass door, recalling the single terse exchange he’d had with Cleverly and how he might report it. Which was undoubtedly what the boss wanted to discuss. When the call to enter came, McNab already had a plan.

  DI Wilson looked up at him from behind the desk. ‘You’ve heard DI Cleverly is coming for the post-mortem?’

  ‘DS Clark told me, sir. And that I should pick him up at the airport.’

  ‘Good.’ DI Wilson studied him. ‘You’ve already spoken to him, I assume?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Noting McNab’s expression, DI Wilson sat back in his chair. ‘He gave nothing away?’

  ‘Nothing, sir. He led me to believe they hadn’t yet established whether Ms Richardson lived at the given address, nor whether they might have evidence to suggest she might be alive. He also didn’t mention Go Wild, the company Ollie in IT says she worked for.’

  Silence followed, while the boss considered this, and McNab took his chance.

  ‘Sir. Might the Met be viewing this as their case, even though the death happened here in Glasgow?’

  ‘Why do you say that, Sergeant?’

  How did he explain that the entitlement in Cleverly’s voice told him? Along with his avoidance of any information-giving. And now his attendance at the PM.

  ‘Might the fire victim be more important than we realize, sir?’ he tried.

  DI Wilson nodded. ‘I was thinking that myself, Sergeant. See what you can glean from our visitor at the PM.’

  ‘He’s not coming in, sir, to speak to you?’

  ‘He is not. A flying visit, I was told. Hence my decision that you should pick him up at the airport. I’m relying on you, Sergeant. To find out what you can.’

  McNab was in a better state of mind exiting the boss’s domain than when he’d entered it. He headed back to his desk and gave Janice a satisfied smile.

  ‘So it went okay then?’

  ‘Of course. I’m to suss out what Cleverly is really up to as I chauffeur him round Glasgow.’

  As he took his seat, he spied the coffee Janice had no doubt fetched for him in his absence. McNab toasted her with it.

  ‘I spoke to Jimmy Donaldson again.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘He thought you were a really nice lassie, but there were things he didn’t think he should say in front of you.’

  Janice pulled a face. ‘You’re joking. What exactly?’

  ‘The sexy shenanigans he claims were going on in the flat where the victim was being held.’

  ‘Sexy shenanigans,’ Janice repeated with a smile.

  ‘Once it’s in your head you can’t get rid of it,’ McNab promised her. ‘However, he did say there was screaming and moaning, which may have been consensual. He’s been reading stuff in the papers about rough sex.’

  ‘I’m beginning to be grateful I wasn’t there,’ Janice admitted.

  ‘I checked with the bloke in the flat opposite, who confirmed it. It may have been operating as a brothel of some sort.’

  ‘With a link to Go Wild?’ Janice suggested.

  ‘Ollie maintains Go Wild was for high-paying customers only. Why come to a tenement in Glasgow for sex?’

  ‘Maybe more than just rough sex was part of the package?’

  ‘You mean you get to set fire to the girl afterwards?’ McNab said, his face displaying his horror at such a thought.

  ‘It doesn’t get rougher than that,’ Janice said.

  18

  Ava had spotted the police launch heading for the Orlova mid-morning and assumed it was ferrying out the two Glasgow detectives. She’d asked Erling if she might have a quick interview with them at Houton, but he’d been categorical in his refusal.

  ‘I’m your go-to person for information. Let’s keep it that way,’ he’d told her.

  Ava had conceded to that, of course. Erling kept her in the loop with Police Scotland, but he had no jurisdiction over her own investigations. Although she wasn’t allowed on board herself, she still knew what had been found there. The information had arrived via an anonymous email which included details of the virtual games set-up, a description of the arena and the deaths of the two fighters.

  Ava had no reason to disbelieve this. There was enough local info circulating from those who had boarded the ship while making it secure to suggest the information was correct. Plus she’d already discovered enough about the ship to pair it with the company known as Go Wild.

  Her initial leads, however, had now begun to dry up, suggesting Go Wild was likely removing material from online sources and generally battening down the hatches.

  She did, of course, have another line of enquiry open to her, should she choose to use it. Ava poured herself a coffee and considered this.

  She and Mark went back a long way. They’d spent time together in Afghanistan and worked on exposing a number of high-profile international organizations, companies and politicians. If anyone could help her it would be Mark Sylvester, scourge of anyone high-ranking and influential who had something to hide.

  The problem was, would he want to work with her again?

  She’d kidded herself that their break-up had been mutually decided upon, when it definitely hadn’t been. She’d been the one to end it, abruptly and without explanation. If Mark chose not to answer her call, she had no one to blame but herself.

  She pondered this by the kitchen window, taking heart from the vision of the kye freed from their winter lockdown. When she and Dougie had released them, their delight had been wonderful to watch. They’d literally pranced their way into the fields. Their mooing at the discovery of acres of luscious spring grass and the ability to roam wherever they wanted had lifted her spirits. Dougie had been the same, the joy on his face confirming what she already knew. Dougie was born to be a farmer.

  And she was about to take that away from him.

  Dragging her thoughts back to the problem she could resolve, Ava picked up her mobile and brought up Mark’s number, her thumb hesitating over the call button before pressing, almost hoping he wouldn’t answer.

  It only took three rings before he did.

  ‘Ava, how great to hear from you. Are you still in Orkney?’

  Momentarily shaken by the sound of his voice again, and the
obvious delight in it, Ava hesitated. When she did so, Mark came back in.

  ‘I was so sorry to hear about your mum and dad. How are things? How’s Dougie doing?’

  In those few moments, Ava realized how much she missed Mark, as a friend, a colleague and a lover. Back when they were together, she would have confided in him about the farm and Dougie, but she had no right to offload her troubles on him now.

  ‘We’re okay, thanks. You’ll have heard about our ghost ship?’

  ‘I’ve been following your reports. Fascinating stuff. In fact, I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you about it. See if I might be of help with your investigation into the Orlova.’

  It was, she realized, an answer to her prayers. How could she ever have imagined that Mark would have reacted any differently? To her, or to the type of work he relished.

  She brought him up to date, giving him the background to what she’d discovered so far regarding the set-up aboard the ship, and the obvious involvement of the company called Go Wild.

  ‘It’s not the first time I’ve heard that name,’ he said. ‘In fact, I’ve already been trying to find out more on their operations.’

  Her heart lifted even further at that.

  ‘I’ll send you everything I have, which is more than I feel able to put in the public domain as yet,’ she said.

  ‘Right, I’ll get back to you when I’ve taken a look,’ Mark promised. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll be back down in London soon?’

  ‘Maybe for a visit,’ Ava conceded. ‘I need to check in with David, about this and other things.’

  ‘Great. I’ll see you then.’

  Ringing off, Ava was struck by the feeling that Mark believed, as she did, that what had happened on the Orlova was merely the opening to a much larger story. What if revealing that story brought repercussions for them both?

  It wouldn’t be the first time an investigation had put them in the firing line.

  Mark relished a fight. She did too in normal times. Now, when she was Dougie’s only remaining family, could she take the same chances as before?

  Deep in thought, she was unaware of Dougie shouting for her until he threw open the kitchen door, his face reddened by running.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Ava said, seeing his distress.

  ‘You’d better come and look.’

  The calf was two days old. She and Dougie had birthed it together, after the mother had got into difficulty. Her young brother had taken the lead, demonstrating all he’d learned since she’d taken off to roam the world, leaving the farm and Orkney behind.

  None of this had been lost on Ava and the experience had brought them together, however fleetingly.

  Now the calf lay inert beside its distraught mother, whose lowing was painful to hear.

  Ava dropped onto the grass beside it, searching for any signs of life.

  ‘It’s dead,’ Dougie informed her. ‘I checked. That was round its neck.’ He pointed to a piece of wire lying in the grass.

  ‘How?’ Ava said. ‘We inspected the fences before we let them out.’

  ‘We must have missed a break somewhere.’

  Ava took a closer look at the twisted length of wire, still bloodied from biting into the calf’s neck. It was new, no rusting, and the ends were cleanly cut. It certainly didn’t look as though it had been broken from a fence.

  Dougie was regarding her, wondering what she might say.

  ‘Okay, fetch the digger. We’ll bury the body away from the mother.’

  They were dirty, sweaty and distressed when they eventually headed back to the house. They’d buried the carcass in the field closest to the shoreline. Dougie had manned the digger, scooped up the calf, dumped it in the hole and shovelled the earth in to close the grave.

  When he was a child, he’d always asked for the graves of dead calves he’d seen born to be marked. Not any more. Dougie, she accepted, was a child no longer.

  As they made their way back to the house, they could see the Orlova floating like a dark stain on the horizon.

  ‘What do you think really happened out there?’ Dougie said, his face grim.

  Ava wanted to say ‘something bad’, but knew it was more than that.

  ‘I’m not sure, but I aim to find out,’ she said.

  Dougie was silent for a moment, his eyes focused on the track that wound up to the house, his mouth set, a nerve twitching his cheek. His jaw, Ava realized, was squarer, the softer contours of his teenage face being moulded into a man’s.

  ‘I heard what you told Mark,’ he said sharply. ‘D’you want me to help you check out this Go Wild lot?’

  ‘You’d want to do that?’

  ‘I’m part of an online gaming community. If Go Wild’s in the business of selling virtual gaming, I’ll find them.’

  After they’d eaten, Dougie headed for his room, to check out his virtual pals and what they might know of Go Wild.

  Ava had mixed feelings on this, but couldn’t stop him, and wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

  Pouring herself a glass of wine, she sat down in front of her own laptop to transfer the photos she’d taken of the dead calf from her phone. It was weird, she thought. They always lost some calves and lambs, but not normally like this.

  They’d walked the nearest fences and nowhere had there been a breakage that might have caused a length of wire to wrap round the calf’s neck the way it had.

  Of course, animals were sometimes attacked on purpose. Knives being the usual weapon of choice. Most farming communities had experienced that at one time or another, with no real explanation as to why.

  She had good neighbours here. She couldn’t imagine any of them would want to harm her cattle. But what if someone on the island wanted her to give up the farm? Would that have been reason enough?

  As she studied the blown-up images, she realized she’d caught Dougie in one of them, behind the dead calf. The way he was standing, the look on his face. What did it tell her? That he was distressed, angry? Or something else?

  Might her wee brother know more about this than he was saying?

  Her mobile vibrated loudly against the table, pulling at the connecting wire. Seeing Mark’s name on the screen, Ava disconnected it and answered.

  ‘I’ve found something you have to see. ASAP. Can you come down tomorrow?’ he said, his voice sharp.

  Ava didn’t hesitate. ‘I’ll catch the first flight,’ she told him, her own exhilaration quelling any misgivings she might have about explaining her sudden departure to Dougie.

  19

  McNab was trying to recall what Cleverly looked like, and couldn’t. His voice on the phone had rung a bell, mainly by its supercilious tone, but it hadn’t conjured up an image of the man.

  Of course, Cleverly might well recognize him, although he had definitely given the impression on the phone that he’d never heard of a DS McNab.

  The road out to the airport was quiet, which resulted in him being there well in advance of the Met officer’s expected arrival. That suited McNab, who, having parked, now made for the nearest coffee shop.

  His mobile had pinged twice en route, one message from Ollie to say he had some news for him. The other was from Chrissy to say they were heading back to Glasgow from Orkney and that Rhona would be at the post-mortem for the fire victim.

  Checking the arrivals board, he noted the Gatwick flight was on approach and would land five minutes late, so he had plenty of time to check in with Ollie before he had to meet Cleverly.

  The mobile rang as he was about to do so. He observed the name on the screen with something approaching horror, before pressing the dismiss button.

  Agreeing to meet with Mary last night had been a mistake. One he feared he would pay for. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her. He did. And they’d had a good time.

  ‘That was a fun night,’ she’d declared as she’d headed downstairs to the taxi. ‘We must do it again sometime. No strings attached.’

  Her proposa
l had sounded much like Ellie’s, and last night he’d thought it possible, even pleasurable. Then just before he’d left the station this morning, Janice had asked if he and Ellie would like to come to dinner with her and Paula. He had found himself strangely pleased by the invitation, before realizing that Janice had no idea he and Ellie had split up. Of course he could have made that plain, but he hadn’t, because the thought had immediately entered his head that he might ask Ellie.

  After all, she’d only said they should be free agents again. She hadn’t actually ended their relationship. That had been down to him.

  ‘No hurry,’ Janice had said, when he’d fallen silent. ‘Just let me know when you get a chance to ask her.’ Her smile then had stopped the truth in his throat.

  Strange how not voicing a truth outright resulted in an unspoken lie.

  Ollie answered his call almost immediately. ‘I’m texting you an old address I dug up for Go Wild in Glasgow. By the location, it doesn’t look as though it was aiming for the high end of the market.’

  ‘I’ll have a look,’ McNab said, thinking he could take Cleverly along with him. Maybe get him to talk a little more. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘I found your guy on the system.’

  ‘Oh?’ McNab tried to sound only mildly interested.

  ‘He has form. I can send you details?’

  ‘Do that. And thanks.’

  So what was he planning to do with them? Flash them in Ellie’s face? Like that would be a good idea. He toyed with the idea that he would say he was just protecting her. Would she buy that? Unlikely. Would it stop her seeing the bald guy? Doubtful. Would she be pissed off at him? Definitely.

  McNab shifted himself as a trickle of passengers started to appear at the arrival gate. Downing the last of his coffee, he exited the cafe and watched for any bloke that might be Cleverly.

  It wasn’t hard to spot him. Or maybe it wasn’t hard to spot the only man who looked like a police officer.

  Face on now, it wasn’t difficult for his shadowy memory of the detective to take form. The dark, close-cropped hair, the high colour, the thick neck, the look of a bouncer. Back then, McNab now recalled, Cleverly hadn’t been so beefy. More lean and mean. The lean had definitely gone. What about the mean, he wondered?