Against a Dark Sky (18 page)

Chapter Thirty Nine

I
t was beginning to get dark as the two detectives drove parallel to the banks of Loch Katrine. The surrounding hills looked ominous in the encroaching gloom. When Dani was last here, she’d taken a very pleasant boat trip with her father on the SS Sir Walter Scott, alongside a gaggle of excitable American tourists. The landscape appeared quite different now. It was suddenly clear how quickly this mountain range could become a place of danger and threat. The sheer vastness of it made Bevan feel small and a little frightened.

              ‘There’s not enough evidence to get a warrant to search his cottage,’ Dani said.

              ‘He was very quick to tell us what he’d got up to during his trip to London.’

              ‘It was almost as if he’d planned to use the GPS in his vehicle to provide him with an alibi. He was rather keen to remind us to check it out. Of course, it only tells us where his
van
was, not him.’

              ‘But if this pal of his backs up the story, there’s not much we can do.’ Andy sighed heavily.

              ‘We’d need forensic evidence from the Batras’ house to link Micky Ford to the scene in order to get a warrant for his place. Although, now he knows we’re onto him, Ford will undoubtedly dump the camera and the mobile phone, if he hasn’t done so already.’ Dani stared out into the darkness.

              ‘I’ll call DI Long first thing in the morning and fill him in on our progress. So, you think this Micky Ford could be our man?’ Andy glanced across at Dani.

              ‘Oh yes, I certainly do.’

When they got back to Ardyle, Andy Calder decided to go into the Town Hall to finish off some paperwork. Dani returned to the hotel alone. As she passed the desk, Bevan noticed Joy Hutchison talking to the receptionist. She loitered for a moment, intercepting the woman as she headed towards the lift.

              ‘Joy.’ She touched her arm. ‘Could I speak with you?’

              The lady looked surprised. ‘Bill has gone to bed. He was feeling under the weather.’

              ‘That’s okay. It was you I wanted to talk to.’ Bevan hooked her arm through Joy’s and led the woman purposefully towards the residents’ lounge. They sat at a table by the fire. Dani leant forward. ‘I received a phone call yesterday evening, after we had dinner. A friend of mine works at the law courts in Edinburgh. She had some information for me about a case that was heard there ten years ago.’

              Joy’s cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. ‘You mean the incident with the little girl.’

              Dani nodded, waiting for her to elaborate.    

              ‘Bill wasn’t very well back then.’

              ‘He was receiving psychiatric treatment?’

              ‘His mental health deteriorated when we moved to Falkirk. We thought it would make things better, but it didn’t. Neil seemed to dominate Bill’s thoughts during that period. After a few months, he suffered a complete nervous breakdown.’

              ‘It’s perfectly understandable.’

              ‘I was very worried about him. He was ranting and raving about the things Neil and the other children were telling him. The voices never stopped, even at night. Poor Bill couldn’t sleep. Eventually, I asked the GP to section him. I was frightened he might do something silly.’ Joy’s bottom lip began to wobble.

              Dani reached forward and took her hand. ‘You did the right thing,’ she insisted. ‘I only wish somebody had done the same for my Mum. Then she would probably still be alive.’

              Joy nodded weakly. ‘It certainly helped. Bill was put in a nice place with a lovely garden. After six months he was so much better. They sent him home then. But this incident with the girl happened not long after. Bill was trying to make small trips on his own. The doctor had recommended it. On this occasion, he went to the parade of shops about half a mile from our house to buy a pint of milk and the papers. As he was approaching the newsagents, he saw the man grab the girl. Bill said he began dragging her towards the curb, where an unmarked van was parked. Of course, Bill ran forward to try and stop him.’

              ‘But my friend told me Bill admitted in court he’d imagined that bit. All the accused did was to try and apprehend the girl. Then he took back the sweets she’d stolen.’

              Joy shook her head. ‘The barrister for the defence was very fierce. When she questioned Bill, she told the court all about his breakdown. She made it sound as if he was totally unreliable and a fantasist. Bill became very upset. He began to doubt what he’d seen. He no longer felt sure about it, the lawyer had worn him down. Bill finally admitted he could no longer be certain. My husband was the only witness and the case collapsed. There were some very unpleasant news reports in the press about it afterwards. Bill was made out to be a time-wasting crackpot. Thankfully, our friends and family remained supportive throughout.’

              ‘So Bill never said he’d fabricated the entire incident?’

              ‘It was more that his testimony was completely discredited. Then the girl confessed to stealing the bag of sweets and this seemed to satisfy the judge that Bill had misinterpreted what he’d seen, as a result if his mind being unbalanced.’ Joy tutted irritably.

              ‘But you don’t believe he did make a mistake about what he’d witnessed?’

              ‘I know my husband has his eccentricities and for a long while he was very ill. But he’s also an extremely observant and perceptive man, Detective Chief Inspector. I’ve no doubt at all that his account of what happened outside the shop was perfectly true.’

              ‘How interesting,’ Dani replied.

Dani stood in front of the flip-chart and addressed her team. ‘Michael Alan Ford is 44 years old. He is the eldest child of Jack and Mary Ford, Jack being the teacher embroiled in the Ardyle tragedy. Micky grew up here, attending the Primary School and then the High School in Callander. Does anyone know him or the family?’

              A number of the officers shook their heads.

              ‘He’s a decade older than most of us local lads, Ma’am. I vaguely recall his sister. She used to work in one of the cafés on a Saturday,’ Sammy Reid offered.

              ‘Well, he now rents a cottage on an estate outside of Crianlarich.’ Dani turned and pointed to the e-fit of the man seen hanging around the bothy. ‘It’s possible that this man is Micky. The age and build certainly correspond. Did anyone matching this description go into the Rob Roy bar on Friday night?’ She looked towards Reid.

              ‘No, I don’t think so, but Jack Ford was in there. He was one of the first locals I recognised from the CCTV.’

              ‘Okay, well that might provide us with a link to the death of Ronnie Sheldon, but the flowers are a far stronger lead.’

              ‘His name begins with an ‘M’,’ DS Driscoll chipped in.

              ‘But he wouldn’t be laying flowers for himself,’ Andy responded, with a note of incredulity to his voice.

              ‘What about his mother? Her name is Mary,’ Driscoll continued, not allowing Andy’s negativity to put him off.

              ‘Good point Dave. And Mary Ford passed away fifteen years ago from cancer.’

              ‘But why put flowers for
her
on a memorial commemorating the children who died in the Ardyle tragedy?’ Andy stated.

              ‘It indicates that Micky thinks there is some kind of connection between his mother’s death and what happened on that mountainside thirty years ago,’ Reid suggested.

              ‘How did you get on with checking Ford’s alibi for Batra’s murder, Andy?’

              ‘Jimmy Cavanagh confirmed the guy’s version of events. He said they went to the pub at about half past five, stayed until closing and got chips on the way home. Micky went to bed in his spare room and remained there until they shared a cooked breakfast the next morning. But when I described the details of the attack on Amit Batra, Jimmy faltered a little. I reckon that if DI Long brings the fella into the station and lets him stew in an interview room for a while, his story will begin to fall apart.’              

              ‘But we’d still need forensics to tie Micky to the scene. DI Long says they’ve lifted nothing conclusive from the Batras’ property. The perpetrator was thoroughly gloved up. The only one who saw him was Batra, who is now dead.’

              ‘And we’ve still got the issue of motive. We don’t know why Micky Ford might have wanted to kill Batra,’ Driscoll added. ‘We assume it was for the camera Amit had taken from Goff, but we’ve no idea what was on it. Was there some kind of connection between Ford and Goff that we don’t know about?’

              DC Kendal stepped forward. ‘I’ve carried out a bit of research on Kathleen Harris, Ma’am.’

              ‘Great, share it with us, Ian.’

              ‘Kathleen Amanda Harris grew up in Aberfoyle. She was the youngest of three children. It seems her mother was a cousin of the Ardyle Primary School’s Headmaster, Samuel McAllister. We have to assume that’s how she got the placement at the School. It can’t have been a formal arrangement, because she doesn’t appear on any of the staff lists from that time. The first evidence of employment I found for Kathleen was as an entertainer on a cruise liner. She was a cabaret singer for a couple of years on the Atlantic route from Southampton to New York. I haven’t been able to trace her whereabouts since then. I’m assuming she got married, but I’ve not tracked down the certificate yet.’  

              ‘It’s a bit of a career change from primary school teacher to cabaret act!’ Andy remarked.

              ‘Perhaps she wanted to do something totally different. The deaths of those children must have really shaken the young girl. It seems perfectly natural to me that she’d want to get as far away from Ardyle as possible.’

              ‘It is almost as if she chose to adopt a completely new life,’ Kendal added, and the room fell momentarily silent, as the officers contemplated this scenario.

Chapter Forty

B
evan scanned the shelves of her little office in the Ardyle Town Hall. Amongst the accounting books and self-published histories of the town, was a pile of maps. She picked up one of Loch Lomond, turning it over to examine the broader view of central Scotland printed on the back.

              Bevan estimated that it would take Micky Ford less than an hour to drive from his cottage in Crianlarich to Crieff along the A85. She had no evidence which connected Jack Ford’s son with the death of Ronnie Sheldon, but if he’d discovered that Dani was about to interview the ex-detective, it wouldn’t have taken Micky long to act upon that information.

              He certainly had the opportunity. It was motive she was lacking.

              Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. ‘Come in!’ She called out, not bothering to look up.

              The old door creaked on its hinges.

              ‘And who says that women can’t read maps?’

              Dani’s head jolted upwards. ‘Sam!’

              The American detective was dressed casually in cords and a thick woollen jumper. He dropped a large soft bag down by his feet. ‘Don’t I get a proper hello?’

              Dani manoeuvred her way around the desk, allowing herself to be enveloped in an enthusiastic bear-hug. She planted a kiss on his stubbly cheek.               ‘How lovely to see you. At the risk of sounding rude, what the hell are you doing here?’

              Sam laughed. ‘I had some leave owing, so in the great tradition of American tourism, I’ve come to visit the homeland.’

              Dani found to her surprise that she was genuinely pleased to see him. ‘Well I’m glad you did.’

              Sam’s face became more serious. ‘Plus, I didn’t want to leave you carrying the can over all the gutter press stuff. I know I was acting like an SOB after the trial. I do realise it wasn’t actually your fault.’

              She nodded. ‘Look, with the investigation and everything, it might not be such a good idea for you to stay with me at the hotel.’

              Sam put his hands up in the air. ‘I’ve booked myself into a B&B in the town for a couple of nights. Then I’m off to see Stirling Castle. You’ll barely even know I’m here.’

Bevan arranged to meet Sam Sharpe for dinner at a local restaurant later. Before that, she wanted to check something on the police database. Dani commandeered Kendal’s laptop once again and logged onto their
Holmes 2
software. Joy had given her the name of the man Bill accused of grabbing a little girl outside the newsagent in 2003.

              Dani put his name into the system. A long list of offences sprang onto the screen. Sally Irving-Bryant was right; many of his early crimes were acts of petty theft and minor drug misdemeanours. But as Dani scrolled further through the information, she lingered over the details of his more recent convictions. These were of an entirely different nature.              

              In 2006, he was cautioned for loitering outside a primary school in Kilsyth. Then, in March 2008, he was convicted of the serious sexual assault of a minor. He dragged a young schoolgirl into the back of his van and drove it to a piece of waste-ground. He assaulted her in the vehicle and then deposited the girl back at the same place he’d picked her up. The man had served four years of an eight year sentence and was currently out on licence. His name had been added to the Child Sex Offenders Register.

              Dani logged off and sat back in her seat. ‘Well I’ll be damned,’ she muttered. ‘Bill was absolutely right.’

Sam had chosen a quiet little pub that served food. They sat at a table in the corner which was lit by a small candle in a jar. Dani was still in her work clothes but Sam had donned a smart, light blue shirt which he wore open at the neck. She noticed he was wearing a new watch that appeared to be a designer brand. His sandy blond hair had been neatly tamed. Dani thought the guy looked rather handsome.

              ‘What do you fancy eating?’ Sam flashed the smile that had won Dani over in the first place. She felt her stomach flip.

              ‘I’m just going to have the risotto. I’ve done a lot of eating out in the past few weeks. I can’t manage anything too heavy.’

              ‘But you won’t mind if I have a burger?’

              Dani grinned. ‘Of course not.’

              ‘And I’m going back to my B&B later, so there’s no need to lay off the onions.’

              Dani laughed. ‘I’m not convinced you’ve ever been that considerate, Detective Sharpe.’

              ‘No, I probably haven’t.’

              ‘How are your lads?’ Dani suddenly asked, feeling that perhaps she hadn’t shown enough interest in them in the past, ‘and your ex?’ She added for good measure.

              ‘They’re doing really well.’ He seemed surprised by the question. ‘Jake’s trying out for his High School soccer team. That’s all he’s talking about right now. Janie’s got a boyfriend. The boys appear to like him. They’re talking about marriage, maybe.’

              Dani hadn’t heard Sam discuss his family like this before, but then she’d probably never really inquired about that side of his life. ‘How do you feel about the prospect?’

              ‘I’m really happy for Janie. It’s just tough to imagine another guy playing dad to your kids, especially with them being up in Canada and me in Virginia.’

              ‘But you’re still very close to them. I’ve heard you on the phone.’

              ‘Yeah, I’ll survive. Hey, Dani, you never told me what went on with your Mom. I’m really sorry.’

              ‘How did you find out?’

              ‘The West Virginia Post did a follow up piece on you. They must have taken their information from the Scottish broadsheets.’ Sam lifted a beer mat and twirled it between his fingers. ‘You could have shared it with me. I would have understood.’

              ‘I just wasn’t sure we had that kind of relationship.’ Dani stood up. ‘I’ll go and place our order. What would you like to drink?’