Hold Hands in the Dark (7 page)

Chapter 15

A
tiny estate of grey-clad new-build houses stretched out before them. The land in this small valley was gently undulating and featureless but close enough to the coast to be battered by merciless winds.

              ‘So the farm no longer exists?’ Sam stood next to the car and glanced about him.

              ‘The owner sold off the land that Crosbie Farm stood on twenty odd years back. Since then, there’s only been some light manufacturing in the area. The planning department of the council told me this estate was only put up in the last eighteen months. They’re adding new houses all the time, when the demand arises.’

              ‘We’re not going to find out much by hanging around here then.’ Sam sighed, sensing the enormity of the task.

              Andy laid an Ordnance Survey map out on the roof, its corners flapping madly in the breeze. ‘There’s a hotel up at the point, near Portencross Castle. I thought we could start by asking a few questions of the manager?’

              Sam shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Sure, you lead the way.’ For some reason, the American wasn’t keen to remain in this spot. It was isolated and possessed no redeeming features that he could identify.

              The DS folded up the pages and climbed back into the driving seat, performing a U-turn which took them out of the estate by the quickest possible route.

*

Sergeant Sharpe found Portencross far more appealing. A wide expanse of sandy beach was overlooked by a well preserved stone castle, positioned on a stony promontory which faced out towards the Firth of Clyde and with a set of impressive mountains visible in the distance.

              ‘What’s over the water?’ Sam asked his companion, as they headed towards an equally fortress-like hotel at the top of the beach.

              ‘It’s the hills of Arran. If you’ve not been there yet, you really should. It’s like a little piece of heaven on Glesga’s doorstep.’

              Sam was happy to take Andy’s word for this. He knew that Calder’s approbation wasn’t easily earned.

              They approached the front of the hotel and sensed its function was more as a public house than anything else. The men pushed through a set of heavy wooden doors and approached the bar.

              Andy brought out his warrant card and displayed it to the middle aged woman who was serving. ‘We’ll have a couple of pints of coke and take a look at your lunch menu, darlin’. But after that we’d like a word with the manager.’

              The woman dispensed the cokes and pushed a pair of dog-eared menus in their direction. ‘Aye, I’ll send Rob over with your orders. You can have a word then.’

              Sam carried the drinks to a table by a set of tall windows, offering up an impressive view. He’d been persuaded to have something called a Scotch pie, which Andy said would fuel them up against the chill.

              The manager, Rob Shepherd, brought over their plates of pies and beans, perching on a stool to join them while they ate. ‘Sal says your wantin’ a word. Detectives from Glesga, is that right?’

              ‘Aye,’ Andy replied. ‘But my colleague here is from America. He’s investigating the death of a man who grew up in this area.’

              Sam brought a photograph of Dale Faulkner out of his jacket pocket. ‘He spent the first eight years of his life with his family at Crosbie Farm, where that new housing estate has been built. The parents were called Magnus and Susan Faulkner.’

              Rob narrowed his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t have recognised him as an adult. He looks really muscly and bulked up. When Dale was a lad he was a scrawny wee devil.’

              ‘You knew him?’ Sam was immediately alert.

              ‘We were at school together. Well, I’m a few years older than him. It was Vicki who was in my class. But it was a small village primary. We pretty much knew everyone.’ Rob took the snapshot from the American’s hand and examined it more closely. ‘Do you say he’s dead? That’s a real shame.’

              ‘Dale became a detective in my department in Richmond, Virginia. He was killed during a routine call out a couple of weeks back.’ Sam shifted in his seat. ‘Have you seen the news over the last few days?’

              Rob’s expression was cautious. ‘Should I have done?’

              ‘A woman was murdered the other evening in her Glasgow home, Mr Shepherd. She was known as Vicki Kendrick, maiden name Faulkner,’ Andy explained.

              The manager dropped the picture as if it were suddenly on fire. ‘Jeez, was that
Vicki Faulkner
? I had no idea. And Dale killed too?’ He appeared genuinely confused and upset.

              ‘What can you tell us about the family? There seems hardly anyone left to ask.’ Andy shifted forward, shovelling beans into his mouth to allow the man to talk.

              ‘My parents ran the hotel here before I did. They took some of their supplies from the Faulkners up at Crosbie Farm – eggs, milk, that kind of thing. I remember one winter very well. It was during the seventies and the workers were all out on strike. My Da’ always said it was the best business he ever did. Whenever the power went out, folk came in here to the pub where we had the log fires burning and we had our own generator out back. The alcohol helped too.’

              Sam chuckled. ‘What year would that have been, sir?’

              ‘1974 was the era of the three-day week. Do you think that’s when it might have been?’ Andy offered.

              Rob nodded. ‘Aye, that would have made me about ten years old, which certainly fits. Anyways, we saw a lot of the Faulkners that year because there were shortages of all kinds of goods in the shops. So folk went direct to the local farms and bought food. It was like going back to the war, I suppose, although I’m too young to remember that! It made my parents pals with the Faulkners; brought the whole community together, in fact.’

              ‘It was two years after that when Dale’s Mom and Dad sold up and shipped out to the States. Do you know why they made such a big move?’

              ‘We were very surprised,’ Rob said. ‘It was something that Magnus would have been up for, I’m sure, but the mum, Sue, was a quiet woman. I expect she was persuaded to go along with it. Magnus probably hoped to make his fortune out there.’

              ‘What did you think of the fact that Vicki stayed behind with her Gran? Did your parents ever comment on it?’ Andy watched his face closely.

              Rob frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

              ‘Vicki never went to Richmond with her folks,’ Sam continued. ‘She was about to start at a decent school in the city where she was given a music scholarship. The girl lived with her maternal grandmother in Glasgow.’

              Rob was wide-eyed. ‘Well, I’ll be damned. I suppose we simply assumed the girl had gone to America with her folks. But the Faulkners never told us otherwise. My parents had no idea Vicki remained in Scotland, I’d swear to that. Otherwise, they’d have kept in touch with her, had her back here in Portencross to stay.’

              Sam observed the man’s body language, he was hugging his arms across his chest and the American was sure he could see Rob’s eyes glistening.

              ‘I’m sorry, this news has come as a shock. It’s bad enough to discover the kids are both dead, but to know that Vicki was just up the road from here all those years and Magnus and Sue left her behind. Well, it’s simply heart-breaking.’

Chapter 16

‘A
ll the neighbours have been questioned, Ma’am.’ Alice Mann took the chair in front of Dani’s desk. ‘The interiors are designed so that most of the living goes on at the rear, facing the communal gardens and the Kelvingrove Park beyond.’

              ‘So nobody saw a damned thing?’

              Alice shook her head. ‘Certainly not the murderer being let in through Vicki’s front door.’

              ‘Could the perp have come in through the back? If this was a lover that the victim wanted to keep quiet, she may have instructed him to avoid entering from the street.’

              ‘That’s a definite possibility. The houses are designed with a footpath running along the rear of the terrace. There are gates leading off it that give access to the gardens. If the killer knew the layout, they’d be aware of this. The path is obscured by a tall hedge. It would have been very difficult for them to be seen by residents.’

              ‘Like a little rat run,’ Dani commented with a sigh. ‘How about regular visitors to Kendrick’s place, any comments on that?’

              ‘The neighbours who provided you with the key seemed to know the victim best. They were very surprised at the suggestion she may have had more than one male visitor. Apparently, Vicki has been single since the divorce and appeared content being so. But the woman had plenty of friends at the college and fellow musicians who attended dinner parties at the house.’

              ‘Could they provide any names?’

              Alice shook her head. ‘No, not really. But I’m hoping to find out more from her colleagues at the college and her booking agent. She’d been with him for fifteen years. Vicki’s mobile phone records didn’t throw up anything out of the ordinary. Most of the calls were to her agent and concert hall venues, that kind of thing. Dan will be interviewing the ex-husband today, although Vicki hadn’t had contact with him for a while, judging by her call history.’

              ‘Yes, but he may be able to fill in some of the gaps we have in Vicki’s past. Excellent work, Alice. You’ve been very thorough. The PM results came back this morning. I’ll send them on to you. Vicki died as a result of multiple stab wounds, one to the neck which severed the carotid artery and caused her to lose a catastrophic amount of blood. It took forty five minutes for her to lose consciousness. She hadn’t eaten since lunchtime but had drunk close to half a bottle of red wine in the previous couple of hours. In fact, the doc suggested that the condition of her liver indicated she was a regular, heavy drinker.’

              ‘Does he think she was an alcoholic?’

              ‘I don’t believe so. He simply pointed out that she drank every day and had done for some considerable time. She had a very slight frame. The alcohol had done more damage than it would if that were not the case. I expect she knew her limits though, Vicki wouldn’t have been able to perform her recitals otherwise.’

              ‘The drinking could have started after the divorce, perhaps?’

              ‘Possibly, or maybe it’d been going on even longer than that. I sensed when we met her, that Ms Kendrick wasn’t a very happy woman.’

              As the DS stood up to leave, Dani cleared her throat.

              ‘Was there anything else, Ma’am?’

              ‘What angle is DI Boag working on?’ Dani made the request sound casual.

              ‘He is researching Kendrick’s family history – looking into the grandmother’s background and Vicki’s schooling. He’s trying to find if there was any contact between them and the Faulkners in the USA after ’76.’

              The DCI visibly relaxed. ‘Just the right job for Phil. It’s the kind of stuff he’s best at.’

              ‘Yes, that’s what we decided.’ Alice made a move for the door again. ‘Will that be all, Ma’am?’

              ‘Certainly.’ She managed an encouraging smile. ‘But keep me updated on any developments.’

*

DC Dan Clifton pressed on the buzzer for the loft apartment situated on a narrow alley just off Cathedral Street. The front door gave a click and Dan pushed it open. He jogged up a couple of flights and found a middle aged man, tall and of medium build, with a full, grey tinged beard waiting for him on the landing.

              ‘Detective Constable Clifton?’

              ‘Aye.’ Dan got out his warrant card, embarrassed to be slightly out of breath.

              ‘I’m Guy Kendrick, do come inside, and please excuse the mess. My girlfriend is in the middle of an exhibition. Her artwork is everywhere.’

              Dan followed the man into a cavernous, open-plan apartment. There were several large, colourful canvases propped up around the lounge area, but other than that, the detective would have said the place was very neat and tidy.

              ‘I’ve just made coffee. Do you want to join me for a cup?’ Guy slipped behind a kitchen counter and began bringing mugs down from a shelf.

              If the DC didn’t know any better, he would have made the flip judgement that Kendrick was gay. There was something about his manner that created this impression. After all, it took one to know one, Dan always thought. But then, the man was an artsy type, which sometimes made it difficult to tell.

              ‘Any news on Vic’s funeral? Will you be releasing her body anytime soon?’

              ‘Oh, not yet sir. It’s a murder investigation. There will be no funeral until all the forensic work has been completed.’

              Kendrick perched on a stool and pushed a cup of coffee towards Dan. ‘It’s absolutely tragic. I wasn’t aware of Vic having anyone special on the scene right now, so I’d be happy to organise some kind of send-off for her. She’d no family alive any longer. Unless Ken is going to take charge of her affairs.’

              ‘Ken?’ Dan fished out his notebook.

              ‘Kenneth Rachmann, Vic’s agent. He did everything for her. She relied very heavily on him, especially after we split.’

              ‘But relations remained good between you and Ms Kendrick?’

              ‘Well, they have been in the last few years. When we first separated it was a different story. You don’t end a fifteen year marriage unless things are pretty bad between you.’

              ‘Can I ask what caused the divorce?’ Dan cleared his throat, uncomfortable to be asking these questions but knowing they were crucial to the investigation. This was the type of thing he sensed Alice would take in her stride.

              Kendrick sipped his drink. ‘I could say we’d simply drifted apart, but that would only be half of the story. The truth is that I had an affair when I was on tour in the summer of 2009. I play classical guitar and was a member of the orchestra attached to a popular show that season.’

              ‘Did Vicki find out about it?’

              ‘I told her, after I returned in the autumn. We had an absolutely blazing row. The type you never forget as long as you live.’

              ‘Was there violence involved?’

              Kendrick smiled sadly. ‘No, Detective. Vic was a small, delicate woman. I was always aware of my physical superiority. I never so much as raised a hand in anger towards her. Anyway, I was in the wrong. The ire was directed almost entirely at me.’

              ‘Would it be accurate to say that you left Vicki for another woman?’

              ‘No, because it was just a fling.’ Kendrick put down his cup. ‘Are you married?’

              ‘No, I’m not.’

              ‘Because my marriage to Vicki wasn’t conventional. We were both professional musicians and made our living by touring the globe. We spent many months apart from one another. It works in the beginning, when the buzz of the reunions maintains excitement in the relationship. Then one or other of you starts to want more - a stable, day-to-day kind of set-up. That person was me. Vic enjoyed the itinerant lifestyle. Let’s face it, she was a lot more successful at the whole thing than I was.’

              ‘There were no children?’

              He shook his head. ‘Vic never wanted them. She’d been orphaned young and was brought up by her grandmother. She always claimed she didn’t have a clue how a family worked and would be useless at it.’

              Dan frowned. ‘I’m afraid that wasn’t entirely true.’

              ‘How do you mean?’ Kendrick’s posture stiffened.

              ‘Vicki’s parents only died ten years ago. They moved to the United States with her younger brother in 1976 and Vicki stayed with her gran in Glasgow. She may never have had contact with them, but they certainly weren’t dead.’

              The man rose from his seat, his face ashen. ‘But she told me all the details – about the car accident that killed them. I met her grandmother on several occasions. I believe we even talked about it together once.’

              ‘Perhaps you should sit down again, sir. Have you got any brandy in the flat?’

              Kendrick nodded, gesturing towards a wooden sideboard. He fell back onto the stool, gripping the worktop with both hands. ‘I don’t know why, but I find that news more shocking than when the police told me she was dead.’

              Dan carried the bottle across the room and put a generous dash in his host’s empty cup.

              Kendrick knocked it back in a single arm action. ‘Why would Vic have lied about something like that? And about having a brother as well? Jesus, this is too much to comprehend.’

              ‘Her brother is also deceased, but only recently. So you have no recollection of Vicki making contact with her American family during the years you were married?’

              ‘I never knew they existed for Christ’s sake!’ Kendrick turned to look Dan in the eye. ‘Vic toured the States a great deal, especially during the nineties. I suppose she must have hooked up with her family then, even if she never told me about it.’

              ‘We have no evidence to suggest that. According to your ex-wife before she died, the last time she set eyes on them was when they left for Virginia in 1976.’

              Kendrick reached for the bottle and poured another generous measure. He dipped his head towards Dan. ‘Do you want some?’

              ‘No thanks.’

              ‘This is the weirdest shit I’ve ever heard. I lived with Vic for fifteen years. We were close during that time, far closer than I am to my current girlfriend. But she kept this secret from me – worse than that, she constructed an elaborate lie about her past.’

              ‘Is there anyone she may have told the truth to?’

              Kendrick narrowed his eyes, which were beginning to become unfocussed. ‘Vic didn’t have many friends. She travelled too much. The only constant in her life was her grandmother. Then, when Maeve passed away it was me and Ken.’

              ‘So her agent might know more about Vicki’s past?’

              ‘It’s possible, I suppose. But to be perfectly frank with you, if Vic didn’t tell me all this stuff when we were first together, totally in love and opening up about everything, then I don’t believe she ever shared it with another living soul.’