Night Watcher (24 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

‘Slow down, take a deep breath and start again.’ Bill was having trouble understanding the woman on the other end of the phone.

‘She dead,’ the voice screamed at him. ‘You gotta come . . .’ The voice deteriorated into a garbled mixture of Polish and broken English.

Bill sighed, the sigh of a man at the end of his tether. He tapped a pencil on the piece of paper in front of him. At least switchboard had got her name and address. ‘Listen, Marika. Who is dead?’ He pronounced his words slowly in the hope she would do the same.

‘Mrs Ralston, she dead, that who,’ the voice screamed at him. ‘You gotta come.’

The hair on the back of Bill’s neck prickled, he had thought that only happened in books, but his was definitely prickling. Sweat ran down his back and his underarms were awash. So this was what the thought of impending doom was like.

‘Okay, we’ll come right away,’ he said. He stared into space for several seconds after he laid the phone down. This case had been a flaky one from the start and he had made a wrong decision, a mistake, which had resulted in disaster.

‘Is something up?’ Sue stopped at his desk on her way back from the coffee machine.

‘Shit’s just hit the fan, that’s all.’

‘Which particular shit would that be?’ Sue perched on the edge of a spare chair and sipped her coffee.

Bill rearranged the files on his desk until he found the one he wanted. He threw it over to her. ‘That one,’ he said.

Sue opened it. ‘Not another phone call,’ she groaned. ‘Not more dead animals. I can’t bear it. I like animals you know.’

‘Yes to the first. No to the second.’ Bill waited a moment, then added, ‘It’s worse than dead animals. It’s Mrs Ralston who’s dead.’

Sue laid the file back on his desk. ‘I worried about her, you know.’

Bill thought he detected a tone of censure in her voice. ‘I know you did.’ He tapped his fingers on the desk. ‘Maybe we should have done something.’

‘Such as?’

‘Well, I don’t know. Got someone to check on her. Put a watch on her house,’ Bill’s voice tailed off. ‘Something.’

Sue snorted. ‘You’ve got a guilty conscience mate, because you didn’t believe her. But there was nothing else we could have done. You’d have been blasted out of the water if you’d suggested a personal guard for her, and you know it.’ She smiled sourly. ‘It’s called lack of resources, mate.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Bill felt a little better, although he knew he should have taken the case more seriously. ‘Let’s go out there and see what’s what.’

‘Better tell the big white chief first, he’ll want to know and it takes the heat off you.’ Sue pushed her notebook and pencil into her handbag. ‘I’ll be ready when you get back.’

Bill hurried up the room and entered Andy’s office, tapping on the door after he was inside.

‘Can’t you knock first? I might have had a bird in here with me for all you know.’

‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Bill said, grinning. ‘Having a fly puff at a fag is probably more like it.’ He crossed the room and placed his hands flat on the desk. ‘Something’s come up. Remember that neurotic one the other night, that Mrs Ralston in the big posh house, friend of the Chief Constable and all?’

‘I thought you had that one all sewn up.’ Andy glared at him. ‘Is she still giving us grief?’

‘You could say that. Gone and got herself killed, that’s all.’

Andy sighed. ‘Chief Constable’s not going to like that.’ He scratched his head. ‘You’d better get out there. Take someone with you. I’ll get things arranged at this end and see the top brass here are kept informed.’

‘Okay if I take Rogers with me? She’s familiar with the case.’

‘Yes, yes. Just get it started at that end. But keep me informed.’

The rush hour traffic was starting as they drove out of Dundee, but Bill was driving against the flow of it so they arrived at the house within a reasonable time. However, it was not fast enough for Marika who met them at the door in full flow.

‘Why you no come sooner? Why you take so long? Come, you see, Mrs Ralston, she dead.’ Marika clasped her hands on her ample chest and sobbed.

It was all too melodramatic for Bill. He turned to Sue. ‘I’ll leave Marika to you,’ he said. ‘Find out what she knows.’ He strode into the house simply to get away from the histrionics. He stopped in the hall and looked around him wondering where the body was.

Marika pushed past him, ‘I show. I show,’ she waved her hands. She threw the lounge door open. ‘She here.’ Tears poured down Marika’s face.

Nicole Ralston lay on her back, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling, and her arms clasping a large ginger cat. A hiss of breath escaped Sue Rogers’s lips and Bill heard her mutter, ‘Another bloody animal. What’s with this guy and animals?’

Marika started to mutter in a foreign language, her voice rising higher and higher until it was almost a scream.

‘Thank you, Marika.’ Bill stepped in front of her to prevent her throwing herself on the floor. The woman was like an engine cranking up and Bill did not want to be with her when she eventually exploded. ‘You go with policewoman. She ask questions. Okay?’ God he was at it now, speaking in broken English. He sighed disgustedly. ‘Take her somewhere else,’ he hissed at Sue, ‘before I say or do something stupid.’

‘I’m not sure you haven’t done it already,’ Sue murmured sweetly as she ushered Marika from the room.

Bill pulled the door shut, he knew better than to enter and be accused of contaminating anything, the Scene of the Crime guys were a bit touchy that way.

Marika’s voice, high and excited floated along the corridor, gradually lessening in volume as Sue’s calming tones took effect. He knew he should join them, but he had no stomach for hysterics, so he walked along the corridor until he found a small study. He would square it with Sue later. In any case he had to phone Andy to find out when he could expect the police doctor to arrive, and when the SOCOs would get here, and he could not do it with Marika yabbering in his ear. Once he had made the necessary calls he settled himself at the desk, poking into drawers and pigeonholes, and riffling through various letters, notes, invoices and papers.

***

Claire rose from bed just as the night started to turn into dawn. She had not slept and her head and eyes ached. It had been after two o’clock when Ken had returned home and slid in beside her. They’d had a dinger of a row earlier on and she did not want it to start again so she had not moved and had kept her breathing slow and regular.

It was all this business about Nicole, and Ken’s inability to end the affair that he had probably entered into with very little thought. That was Ken all over though, he would get involved with a woman who caught his eye and then drop them when he tired of them. However, he had never been involved with someone like Nicole before, someone who would not let go, and Claire knew he was having difficulty shaking her off. That was what frightened her, because she knew how weak he was. That was why she thought she might have to take matters into her own hands and why she had gone out looking for him after he left. She should not have left the kids on their own, she knew that and felt guilty about it, but they had been sleeping soundly and had not come to any harm.

She looked in all the places she thought Ken might have gone, but could not find him. One o’clock struck on the church clock just as she arrived home. There was nothing else she could think of to save her marriage so she had gone to bed and waited, wondering whether or not he would come back.

The shower prodded her into wakefulness, the water rushing over her head and down her body in a wonderful cleansing waterfall. She stood under it a long time hoping that the streaming flow would wash away all the guilt, fear and jealousy.

Ken was sitting on the edge of the bed when she returned to the bedroom. His face was haggard and his eyes peered at her in a strange way. ‘Are you all right?’ She sat on the bed beside him. ‘You look a bit strange this morning, as if something’s troubling you.’ She wanted him to take her in his arms and hold her close, but she was afraid to make the first move. He might not want her. And she did not know how to talk to him anymore, which made all their conversations so stilted. ‘If it’s the argument, I’ve got over that, just as long as you finish with her.’ Fear gripped her. Maybe he was going to tell her their marriage was over. She towelled her hair hard to prevent her hands from shaking.

‘It’s finished.’ His voice sounded flat and emotionless. Suddenly he clasped his head with both hands. ‘Oh God, it’s finished, really finished.’

Claire put her arms round him, ‘There, there,’ she said, in the same way she would have said it to a child. ‘You’ll get over it.’ She patted his shoulder.

‘You don’t understand,’ he muttered through his hands. He took them away from his face and stared at her with strange unfocused eyes. ‘She’s dead, and I found the body.’

Claire stopped patting him. Her heart was thudding dangerously fast and an icy coldness swept through her. ‘What d’you mean. You haven’t . . .’ She could not say what was in her mind.

‘No. I didn’t do it. I just found her.’ Tears rolled down his face.

‘Do what?’ Claire’s voice rose several decibels.

‘Strangle her. I didn’t, Claire. Honest I didn’t. You’ve got to believe me.’ He clutched her hand and held it fast. ‘What am I going to do? They’ll think it’s me.’

Claire stared at him. She had never seen him so agitated. ‘The police – did you phone the police?’ Her brain whirled as she tried to think what to do. Even if he had done it, she could not let them arrest Ken.

‘No. I daren’t. Don’t you understand? They’ll think it’s me.’ His body shook uncontrollably. ‘They’re bound to, aren’t they?’

Claire loosened his fingers from her hand. It had become numb with the pressure of his grip. ‘But they’ll know you were there. You’ll have left fingerprints.’ Despair seeped through her. The police were not fools.

Ken stopped shivering, and smirked. ‘I’m sure I wiped everything before I left the house.’

Claire frowned. He sounded so smug and so sure of himself. Her doubts increased, and she was not sure what to believe.

Ken seemed to sense her slight withdrawal. ‘Don’t you see, Claire? I can’t let them know I was at her house last night. They’re sure to think I did it.’

Claire pulled him close to her, patting his shoulder again. Now that he had returned to her it did not matter what he might have done. She would get him out of it. ‘That’s all right, Ken. You couldn’t have done it because you were here with me all last night.’

Ken nuzzled his face into her neck. ‘I knew you’d stand by me,’ he said.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Patrick Drake’s Department Store slowly awoke from its silent, brooding, overnight hibernation where the only noise was the settling of old timbers and the hiss of radiators. That silence was now broken by the electrical hum of hoovers on carpets, and the clank and clang of mops and pails on tiles, as the army of cleaners prepared the store for the onslaught of staff and customers.

Julie stood aside as a bunch of cleaners came out the back door. They seemed a cheery bunch, laughing and joking together as they fastened their coats over their working overalls and lit up cigarettes for their much-needed puff now the work was finished. Their good nature lightened the gloom of a dreary morning.

Julie held the door open and watched them for a moment, weaving up the alley. Their day was finished just as hers was starting. They vanished round the corner and the alley was deserted again. Even the tramp was not there this morning. Julie had got used to seeing him and wondered if he had moved on, maybe found something a little bit warmer and more comfortable now the weather was turning colder. She shivered. There was a suggestion of snow in the air. She could smell it. She closed the door behind her and hurried into the store, noticing as she went that Harry’s little room was empty. Julie hoped he had got her message, but she would phone again, just to make sure.

Betty was bent over a cupboard, busy inspecting the stock when Julie crept up on her and planted her cold hands on the older woman’s cheeks. ‘Got the coffee on the heat then,’ she said, as Betty squealed in protest.

Betty straightened. ‘My, but you’re chirpy this morning.’

‘It’s a beautiful morning,’ Julie replied, grabbing Betty round the waist and swinging her into a dance round the servery.

‘If you want that coffee, you’ll let go right away,’ Betty puffed. ‘Anyway why’re you so happy now?’ She grabbed two cups and held them up in front of her. ‘When you were so goddamned down yesterday. What’s happened since then?’

‘I’ve made my decision, Betty. I’m going to hand in my notice and go back to Edinburgh.’ She performed a little jig. ‘I’ll tell Nicole when she comes in.’

‘I can tell you for now, madam’s not going to like that. Not when she thinks she’s got her hooks into you.’ Betty sniffed as she poured the coffee. ‘Besides, I’ll miss you as well.’

‘I don’t give a damn what Nicole thinks. She can’t stop me.’ Julie accepted her cup from Betty. ‘I do care what you think though, and I’ll miss you too.’

Julie waited until after the store opened for the day before she phoned upstairs. ‘Nicole hasn’t come in yet,’ Evelyn informed her, ‘Ken’s just arrived though. D’you want to speak to him?’

She was tempted to say yes, hand her notice in to him and tell him she would be leaving, but that would be taking the easy way out, and Julie never took the easy way out of anything. She believed in facing her problems and dealing with them, after all, that was what she had been doing since she came to Dundee. With a bitter smile at the thought of the problem she had been dealing with, Julie said, ‘No I’ll wait for Nicole.’ Besides, she thought she might enjoy the look on the woman’s face when she told her.

It was after lunchtime before she phoned Harry. She had looked for him several times, but he had not appeared in the store so far. ‘I’ll just get him for you,’ Harry’s wife said.

‘Julie?’ Harry’s voice sounded strained.

‘I wondered whether you got my message to come back into work’

‘Yes, Babs told me, but I wasn’t sure. Not with Mrs Ralston being so definite like.’

‘It’s all right Harry. I talked to her and she agreed she had been a bit hasty. Best thing you can do now is to come in.’ Julie hesitated, ‘I’ll make sure it stays all right with her.’

There was a silence on the other end of the phone.

‘Are you still there, Harry?’

‘You haven’t heard then.’ His breathing sounded laboured. ‘It was on the one o’clock news.’

‘Heard what, Harry?’

‘Mrs Ralston’s dead, murdered.’ The words were flat and emotionless.

Julie’s hand tightened on the handset she held to her ear. ‘What did you just say?’

‘She’s dead, Julie. Dead.’ Harry’s voice echoed with anguish. ‘They might think it was me, Julie, with her accusing me of stalking her, and then sacking me and all.’

‘Don’t be daft, Harry. You’re not sacked, that was a mistake.’

‘Some mistake,’ he muttered.

‘Best thing you can do Harry, is to come into your work. Sitting at home’s not going to help.’

‘I suppose,’ he sounded resigned. The phone clicked off.

Julie leaned back in her chair. From where she was sitting she could see Nicole’s briefcase, still leaning on one of the desk legs. Was it only yesterday Nicole had said to her? ‘Come home with me. I’m afraid.’ She could still hear her own reply, ‘I can’t. There’s something else I have to do tonight.’ Only, she did not have anything else to do. She could easily have gone home with Nicole. If she had, would Nicole still be alive? Julie covered her face with her hands. It was her fault Nicole was dead, her and her silly revenge plan.

She should have believed Nicole when she shared her worries about a stalker, and if she were really truthful she would have to admit she did believe her. But instead of that she had played her little game of planting suspicion in Nicole’s mind, that it was only a private detective employed by her husband. Nothing she should be scared about. Not like a stalker, for example.

Julie moaned. This would be on her conscience for a damned long time.

***

Evelyn broke the news to Ken at roughly the same time that Harry was telling Julie. ‘It was on the news,’ she said, adding, ‘isn’t it awful?’

Ken sat back in his leather, executive chair and feigned a look of surprise. ‘It can’t be true,’ he said, although he more than anyone knew it was. Every time he closed his eyes he could see her lying there, that terrible look on her face and those horrible bruises round her neck. Even when his eyes were open, he could see her. He wondered if he would ever stop seeing her.

Evelyn made a sympathetic noise, ‘Everyone’s upset,’ she said. She kept her face solemn, although Ken thought he could detect a glimmer of excitement in her eyes.

‘I’d better tell Patrick. God knows what he’ll think. But he needs to be told.’ Ken reached for the phone. ‘I’ll do it now.’

Evelyn took the hint and left the room.

Patrick’s voice displayed no emotion when Ken told him. He asked several questions, to which Ken had to admit he did not know the answers. ‘Get on to the police and find out what’s happening,’ Patrick barked before he hung up.

Up to that moment Ken had been quite composed and had been pleased at the way he was handling things, so the shaking fit shocked him with its unexpectedness. He shook everywhere, his hands, his head, his body. He could not control it. Tears gathered in his eyes and forced their way down his cheeks until he was sobbing noisily.

Evelyn, who had been lingering outside, burst into the room. ‘Oh, Christ,’ she said. She stuck her head round the door and shouted up the corridor, ‘Somebody get along here quick.’ Crossing the room she put her arms round Ken, rocking him and muttering soothing noises. That was when he started to scream.

‘Phone a doctor,’ she shouted at the girl who appeared at the door. ‘He’s gone into shock.’

‘Maybe if you slapped him – I’ve seen them do that on the telly – maybe he’d come out of it.’ The girl said.

Evelyn raised her head to look balefully at the girl. ‘Just do what you’re told,’ she said. ‘Get a doctor, fast.’

***

The Scene of the Crime Officers padded into the house in their white overalls and plastic overshoes. There was something about those bootees that always made Bill want to laugh, but he did not dare because these men were so serious they would not even laugh at Garfield in the Dundee Courier.

After a quick discussion with the men in white, Bill and Sue closeted themselves in the dining room. They had considered the kitchen, but one look at the mess there was enough to make them think again, and Bill had returned to the lounge to suggest to Colin Wilson the SCO in charge that they might want to look at the kitchen as well.

‘Some house this,’ Bill said, sticking his hands in his pocket and walking over to the window. ‘Not that I’ll ever be able to afford anything like it.’ He turned to look at Sue, ‘Well, did you get anything out of Marika?’

‘Not that much,’ Sue said, consulting her notebook. ‘Apparently Mr Ralston isn’t here he’s gone off to France and she doesn’t know where or how to contact him. Left first thing yesterday morning and gave her the day off. She says Mrs Ralston’s been jumpy and short-tempered. She also said something about an intruder or trespasser. As far as today’s concerned she said the gates were open when she got here, which is highly unusual. And the house doors were open as well. She thought the house might have been burgled so she was looking around when she discovered Mrs Ralston. After that she went into hysterics again, and I couldn’t get anything else out of her.’

Bill turned his gaze to the window again. It overlooked the orchard. ‘There’s plenty of trees and bushes out there,’ he murmured, ‘ideal for anyone who wanted to hide.’

‘Pardon?’ Sue said.

He placed his hands on the window ledge and leaned forward. ‘I forgot. You weren’t here when we saw Nicole first. She spoke about having seen someone at the window, but that when her husband investigated there was no one there. He thought she was paranoid.’ Bill paused. ‘I’m afraid we thought so as well. But it’s possible there could have been someone out there.’

‘You go along with the stalker theory then?’ Sue joined him at the window. ‘There’s only one thing. How d’you know it’s this window?’

‘Elementary, my dear Rogers. They were having dinner at the time. Where do toffs have their dinner? Why the dining room of course, and that is exactly where we are now.’ He grinned at her. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot. Did Marika say how many people had control pads for the front gate.’

‘As far as Marika knew there were only three people – Scott Ralston, Nicole Ralston and of course Marika.’

‘So who left the gate open? Not Nicole Ralston that’s for sure.’