The Third Sin Read online

  ‘Just a few routine questions,’ he said reassuringly. ‘I know you’ve got a class you’re keen to get back to.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Jen said wryly and he gave an easy laugh.

  ‘I can understand that. Don’t know how you do it. Now, you knew Connell Kane – is that right? When was the last time you saw him?’

  She didn’t need this. ‘It was a long time ago – definitely after the inquest; I know, because he was very distraught. I think it was probably a week before he committed suicide.’

  ‘I see,’ Macdonald said. ‘And you haven’t seen him since?’

  She met his gaze squarely. ‘No. I was very upset because he must have felt abandoned by us all, to do that—’

  ‘I was meaning more recently.’

  She frowned. ‘How could I have? What do you mean?’

  ‘It seems that Mr Kane staged his suicide.’

  ‘Staged it? Do you mean – he’s still alive?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. He was found dead in a car that was washed up on the sands near Newbie a short time ago.’

  Jen felt suddenly dizzy. Her head was light, light, as if it might float away. ‘Dead?’ she managed to say. ‘An accident?’

  ‘No. This is a murder enquiry.’

  The room was spinning now. She pitched forward out of her chair in a dead faint.

  DC Hepburn took an instant dislike to Kendra Stewart. As she crossed the threshold in a way that demanded the adverb ‘trippingly’, she began the sort of ‘little me’ act that would set any right-thinking woman’s teeth on edge. Her admittedly enviable eyelashes were being batted at MacNee, of course, in the mistaken belief that this would soften him up.

  ‘My husband says you’re asking about poor Connell,’ she said. ‘I don’t understand – he died two years ago.’

  ‘So you haven’t seen him since, then?’

  ‘Well, of course not,’ she cooed.

  From her tone, she’d only just stopped herself adding the word, ‘Silly!’ Hepburn said coldly, ‘Obviously we wouldn’t be asking you if that was the case. It seems that his suicide was faked.’

  ‘No! I’m astonished.’

  She produced the sort of astonished expression that made Hepburn wonder if she was big in the local amateur dramatic society. She must know already; there was no way Logie wouldn’t have realised and told her.

  ‘Where were you on Monday April 14th?’ MacNee asked.

  The eyelashes came into play. ‘Goodness, Sergeant, I’ve no idea! I haven’t consulted my diary but I don’t remember that I was doing anything special. I was probably here with Logie. That’s our day off – the pub’s open but the restaurant’s shut – and we usually just have a quiet supper at home, with a box set, maybe.’

  ‘Anyone vouch for that?’ MacNee’s tone was sharp and she looked hurt.

  ‘I shouldn’t think so – unless the sous chef had to consult Logie about something.’

  ‘We can check. So – are you saying that you were both here on that night?’

  ‘No, I am not! Don’t try to put words into my mouth, Sergeant.’ The simpering facade vanished, her mouth tightened and her voice suddenly became hard and businesslike. ‘I am saying that I don’t know. I am certainly stating categorically that I haven’t seen Connell Kane for two years and that I had no idea that he wasn’t dead. Is that clear?’

  ‘Perfectly, madam. This is a murder investigation so it’s important that there should be no misunderstandings.’

  Hepburn eyed Kendra closely as MacNee said that, but it didn’t tell her anything. She sounded shocked as she said, ‘Murder!’ but the big brown eyes were cold and watchful.

  ‘Are you aware of other contacts he might have had?’ Hepburn asked.

  ‘Not recently, no. Obviously.’

  ‘Before that?’

  In the moment of hesitation, Hepburn could almost read the words, ‘How much do you know?’ passing through Kendra’s mind before she said, ‘I’m sure you have the names of his contacts here.’

  ‘Suppose you tell us anyway.’ From the edge in MacNee’s voice he didn’t like her any more than Hepburn did.

  ‘Oh – poor Julia, of course. She knew him much better than the rest of us did. Connell rather kept himself to himself, you know? And Randall – Randall Lindsay. He and Julia knew him in Edinburgh when they were both working at one of the merchant banks – I forget which.’

  MacNee shot a glance at Hepburn but she had her notebook out already. ‘They introduced him down here?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. He stayed with Randall sometimes, I think. Julia stayed with her mother who wouldn’t have approved.’

  ‘Why was that?’ Hepburn asked, faux-innocent.

  ‘The drugs, of course. We were all really worried about Julia, you know. It was all Connell’s fault.’

  She stopped. Pause for calculation, Hepburn thought cynically, as Kendra’s voice went girly again. She really wasn’t sensitive to atmosphere.

  ‘Perhaps it’s naughty of me to say this, Sergeant, but I wasn’t a bit sorry when I thought he’d killed himself and I’m not sorry now he’s dead. There!’

  MacNee benefited from another sidelong look. He didn’t take it well.

  ‘You knew he was dealing drugs, then. Where was he getting them from?’

  She recoiled as if he had struck her. ‘I don’t know! How would I know? I had nothing to do with it, nothing.’

  MacNee drew breath to speak. Going for the throat on Kendra’s own drug use wouldn’t be productive and Hepburn stepped in. ‘Who else was involved at the time, Mrs Stewart?’

  Kendra was pouting now. ‘Well, there was Jen Wilson – she teaches at the school here so you could always ask her. She and Skye Falconer who disappeared just around that time were always very thick. That was about it.’

  ‘Apart from you and your husband, of course,’ Hepburn said.

  ‘Well – we were rather semi-detached members, you know. It was good business for us, having them all meeting here. And we were married, so a lot of the … well, social side passed us by, really.’

  If she does the eyelash thing on MacNee just once more, Hepburn thought, he’ll deck her. His voice was positively savage as he said, ‘By “social side”, do you mean sex, Mrs Stewart?’

  ‘If you want to call a spade a bloody shovel,’ she said with distaste, ‘then yes, I suppose so.’

  ‘And I’ve noticed there’s one person you haven’t mentioned so far,’ MacNee went on. ‘Your brother-in-law.’

  ‘Oh, Will?’ She trilled a casual laugh. ‘I’d sort of been discounting Will because he’s working in Canada. And of course he was in the police force before that so I’m sure he wouldn’t have had anything to do with Connell’s – activities.’

  Yeah, sure, Hepburn thought. If he hadn’t booked Kane when the first spliff appeared, it probably meant he was more in the know about where it came from than anyone else. Pity he was in Canada.

  ‘Can you give us an address for him?’ she asked, her pen poised over her notebook.

  For the first time, Kendra showed real uncertainty. ‘Yes, I could, but actually – well, he’s over visiting.’

  ‘Really!’ Hepburn and MacNee spoke together.

  ‘Where is he, then?’ MacNee went on.

  ‘Staying with us. Philippa Lindsay’s organised this Homecoming party and last week he just decided to pop over for it.’

  ‘I see. Thank you, Mrs Stewart, that’s all for the time being. Could you send him up to speak to us now, please?’

  ‘Oh, I think he’s gone out. He was putting on his coat when I came upstairs. We didn’t know you’d be wanting to see him,’ she said with a little, satisfied smile.

  Tight-lipped, MacNee said, ‘And when do you expect him back?’

  ‘Expect? Oh, I never presume to expect Will – he’s a free spirit. If there’s nothing else I can help you with, I’ll see you out.’

  As Hepburn and MacNee walked back to the car he said, ‘See her? If it
was her had been murdered, I’d not be surprised. Another ten minutes and I’d have done it myself.’

  ‘This is the border with Galloway,’ DC Jamieson pointed out as DC Weston, apparently oblivious to where the limit of their Dumfries Division territory was, drove on. ‘Harris told us we didn’t need to go further than this, Lizzie. We can turn back now – if we don’t we’ll be late off our shift.’

  She was feeling mutinous. The cup of coffee hadn’t materialised and she was beginning to feel sick, going down these endless twisting little roads.

  DC Weston paid no attention. ‘I don’t care what he said, Debbie. I need him to be wrong about where the car left the road. Then he’ll have to get us to show DI Fleming where it was.’

  ‘Maybe it was where Harris thinks it was.’

  Weston gave her a scornful look. ‘Course it wasn’t. If a car drove on to the sands there it’d have got bogged down in the mud long before it got to where they found it. Everyone knows that – it’s just he won’t accept it because he can’t think what to do next.

  ‘I tell you what – there’s a cafe at Rockcliffe and if we haven’t found it by then we’ll turn back. And we’ll say we haven’t managed to finish checking and ask to be detailed on this tomorrow – no, listen,’ as her companion protested, ‘I promise tomorrow we’ll start with a bacon butty.’

  Jamieson looked at her pityingly. ‘You’re mental! Going all the way round the Solway coast will take a week – two weeks. You’d never get away with that.’

  ‘I know. But it’s likely it wouldn’t be as far as all that, to end up at Newbie. I want to give it a go, anyway. I tell you what – if I haven’t found anything by the time we reach Kirkcudbright tomorrow, I’ll stop. Here’s another little road. This one looks promising.’

  ‘No, it doesn’t,’ Jamieson said bleakly. ‘Like I said, you’re mental.’

  Macdonald was still sweating slightly as he drove off from Ballinbreck Primary. ‘Never had a witness faint on me before. Doesn’t look good – next thing she’ll be complaining about police brutality.’

  ‘Didn’t look the sort,’ Campbell said.

  ‘We can always hope.’

  He was probably right about Jen Wilson. At least he’d managed to catch her before she actually fell and had laid her out on the floor while Campbell went to fetch the head teacher back, and when Jen came round she was apologetic rather than hostile and insisted on going on with the interview once she’d had time to recover.

  ‘It was just the shock,’ she’d explained. ‘First you saying that he wasn’t dead, then that he was now – stupid, I’m sorry.’

  ‘I should have broken it more gently but I didn’t realise you’d be so upset,’ Macdonald said.

  ‘No, no. It was probably low blood sugar as well – I was needing my chocolate biscuit at break. There’s no reason at all for me to be overcome – we were never that close.’

  ‘So can I take it you haven’t seen him since he faked his suicide?’

  ‘No, I haven’t.’

  ‘Going back to that time, do you know where he was getting the drugs he supplied – any contact he might have had in the past?’

  She shook her head. ‘Sorry. It’s – it’s not a past that I’m proud of. I find it hard now to believe we were as foolish as we were and if I knew anything that would help, I’d tell you.’

  ‘Which of you might want him dead?’ Campbell said.

  The question took her aback. ‘Julia’s mother, I suppose. But she’s an old lady – walked with a stick, I remember. Apart from that, no. But he was into drugs – if he went on supplying, this could be a deal that went wrong, couldn’t it?’

  She wasn’t a stupid woman and she seemed truthful. ‘We’re keeping that line of enquiry open,’ Macdonald assured her. ‘Now, we just need to know where you were on Monday April 14th this year.’

  Jen frowned. ‘April 14th – the date rings a bell. Oh yes – that was just before the Easter break, wasn’t it? I was in school all day, of course, and then a few of us on the staff went out for an end of term meal.

  ‘Is there anything else? I’d really better be getting back to my class,’ Jen said, getting up.

  ‘Just one more thing. We spoke to Skye Falconer’s father this morning and he said she was back in the neighbourhood. Do you know where she’s staying?’

  ‘Oh. Well, I’m sworn to secrecy but I suppose I have to tell you she’s been staying with me. She doesn’t want people knowing she’s here, not until she makes up her mind what she’s going to do.’

  ‘So we would find her at your address?’

  ‘Yes.’ Then she added hastily, ‘though of course she might be out.’

  She definitely looked shifty as she said that. He’d said only, ‘Thanks very much, Miss Wilson. I hope you’ll be all right, after this.’ But as they had walked out to the car he’d said to Campbell, ‘What would you bet she’s on the phone to her pal now?’

  ‘Dead cert. Bet she won’t be there, though.’

  And when they reached Jen Wilson’s house and rang the bell, sure enough there was no answer.

  ‘Told you,’ Campbell said smugly.

  ‘Maybe she’s just gone out, anyway,’ Macdonald said. ‘Why did you think she would try to avoid us? Do you think there’s something going on there? I thought Wilson was truthful enough.’

  ‘Probably was. Said she hadn’t seen him. Didn’t say she didn’t know he was alive. Only passed out when you said he was dead now.’

  It was a long speech for Campbell, but when Macdonald thought about it, he was perfectly right. Campbell usually was.

  ‘That didn’t take long,’ MacNee said cheerfully as they drove out of the car park by the restaurant. ‘Next stop Randall Lindsay’s parents. They’ll have his Paris address – have you got theirs in the notes?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

  Hepburn sounded reluctant and MacNee shot her an enquiring look. ‘Problem?’

  ‘Actually, he’s back at home on leave. He phoned me last night to ask me to this stupid Homecoming party his mother’s organising.’

  ‘Couldn’t have mentioned this before, I suppose?’

  ‘I was hoping someone else would be detailed to interview him. He’s loathsome, Tam, and I think he sort of fancies me, which is really creepy.’

  ‘Grilling him’s not exactly encouragement, is it? If you were in uniform, now – that might be a “phwoar!” factor. But hang on – I suppose he might be into this dominatrix stuff—’

  ‘Tam! You’re not taking this seriously.’

  ‘No,’ he grinned. ‘Where’s the house?’

  ‘Oh, all right then,’ she said sulkily. ‘Back into the village, right along the high street, just past the speed limit sign, turn right, first left.’

  She had intended to punish him with silence but it didn’t seem to be having any effect and after a minute she gave up.

  ‘Why do you think Will Stewart did a runner when he heard we were asking questions? Did you know him before?’

  ‘Didn’t, no. Never came across him until there was all the stuff in the papers about him being involved in that group. The red tops loved it but it didn’t do the Force’s reputation any good.

  ‘My guess would be he wants to flush us out, find out what this is all about before he talks to us. He’s been a cop – he’ll be pretty savvy. Doesn’t necessarily mean he’s got anything to hide. Maybe he’s got the sort of job in Canada that could be affected by another scandal here – security, or something.’

  Hepburn looked disappointed. ‘Still seems pretty suspicious to me – him coming back just at the time when Kane was killed.’

  ‘We don’t know that,’ MacNee pointed out. ‘That was weeks ago. She said he’d only arrived last week.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said darkly.

  ‘Easy enough to check. Is this it here? Nice, eh?’

  It stood on its own beyond the other houses in the lane, backing on to fields, a large, sprawling Victorian house with a conservatory
-style kitchen extension at the back. He drove up the short drive and parked on the sweep of gravel at the front.

  The garden was extensive but poorly kept, the gravel weedy, the shrubbery beside it overgrown and what had once been a herbaceous border choked with weeds, though a wheelbarrow and a spade suggested that someone was tackling the problem.

  ‘You could do worse,’ MacNee said naughtily. ‘Play your cards right and you could—’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Tam!’ Hepburn slammed the car door and went to ring the doorbell.

  There was no response. ‘They’re out!’ she said triumphantly, heading back to the car.

  MacNee ignored her. ‘Maybe round the back, working in the garden,’ he said.

  But there was no one there either. Hepburn, sitting smugly in the car, called, ‘Have to leave it for today. Someone else’s turn tomorrow.’

  Lurking in a little alleyway a hundred yards from Jen Wilson’s cottage, Skye Falconer peeped out to watch the police drive away.

  They wouldn’t give up; not seeing them today only meant that she’d have to wait for their next visit, dreading the knock on the door. But she couldn’t think straight, not yet, so she’d done what she always did when trouble came – bolted, as instinctively as a frightened animal.

  They had gone now. Skye walked slowly back to the cottage and let herself in. She had to sort herself out, calm her nerves. Right now. They could be back at any moment.

  It was a lovely morning and the sun was warm in the tiny garden at the back. She made herself a cup of coffee then carried it outside and sat watching the tits squabbling over position as they pecked at a fat ball hanging on one of the shrubs. She forced herself to relax, shutting her eyes and turning her face up to the sun, listening to the chirpings and tweetings.

  She couldn’t afford to be paralysed by shock; she’d allowed herself too much of that already. Staying with Jen for the rest of her life wasn’t an option. She had to get herself back into the real world somehow, not wait till she was dragged out of her fugue of denial, kicking and screaming. This was the wake-up call.