Snared (19 page)

Chapter Fifty-Six

S
he walked along Barry Road, past a long row of terraced houses, most with some form of dormer upstairs, all hiding behind a brick wall. Two cats were having a hissing fight in the middle. The streetlights opposite lit up the row of beech, casting long shadows across the waste ground next to the roundabout. “So, yeah, Liz, that’s what happened.”

“Sounds like it went well?”

“I think so.” Vicky turned down her street, saw the light in her front room burning away. “All the stuff about his wife was a bit doom and gloom, mind.”

“Oh. Has that put you off him?”

“Not sure.” Vicky swapped her phone to her other ear, stopping outside her house and leaning against her car. “I think I wasn’t my cold bitch self for once. It felt . . . okay.”

“You two were like a pair of teenagers on Saturday night, Vicks. I’d be surprised if he didn’t like you.”

“He’s not interested in me, is he?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I’m worried he’s only seeing me because you’re forcing this on us.”

“Have you asked him?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He said he’s not.”

“Vicks, I’m sorry if you feel this is being forced on you. Stop being so hard on yourself, girl. You’re fine.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Dinner on Wednesday.”

“Squeeee!”

“Liz, I swear if you make that noise one more time, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“Sorry.” Liz laughed, the phone distorting the sound.

“Look, I better go. Got to check on the devil girl and let Mum get back.”

“She’s not that bad.”

“Mum is. Just be thankful you’ve not got kids, Liz.”

“Just be thankful we’ve
chosen
not to have kids.”

“Goodnight.” Vicky pocketed the phone before opening
the door.

Mum stood in the sitting room doorway, coat already on. “Well?”

“Well what?” Vicky hung up her coat. “Is Bella asleep?”

“She is. Poor wee thing fell asleep watching the TV.” Mum beamed. “We saw you on the news. Bella was so happy.”

“I’m glad I’ve managed to avoid it so far. It was horrible.”

“You came across well, Victoria. I’m very proud of you. So’s your father.”

“He’s at least done press conferences without every second word being
um
or
ah
.”

Mum screwed up her eyes. “How was your date?”

“It was fine.”

“Are you seeing him again?”

“Maybe. I just had two Bacardis with him, Mum, that’s all.”

“Just allow me to be happy for you.”

“For once, maybe I’ll let it pass.”

She hugged Vicky tight. “I’m pleased for you.”

Vicky put her arms around her. “Is the only good thing about my life the fact I’ve been on a date?”

“No!” Mum stood back, looking her in the eye. “Why would you think that?”

“You just go on about how bad I am, Mum. The only time you’re happy’s when I’ve got a man on the scene.”

“Victoria, I know how hard it is for you and Bella on your own. You’re doing a brilliant job of raising my wee girl. Me and your father aren’t going to be around forever, though.”

Vicky rubbed a hand across her face, trying to cover the tear before it slid down. “Don’t say that, Mum.”

“I just want you to be happy, Victoria, okay?”

“Okay, Mum.” Vicky coughed, her voice thick with the tears.

“I’ll need to collect your father from the station. God knows what sort of a state he’s got himself into.”

“You go. I’ll drop Bella off at eight tomorrow, okay?”

“That’s fine.”

“Cheers.” Vicky pecked her on the cheek.

Mum let herself out, grinning as she shut the door behind her.

Vicky climbed the stairs, making for Bella’s room. She nudged
the door open, the shaft of light creeping across the floor towards the
bed covered in toys with barely enough room for Bella.

Vicky knelt and gently kissed her daughter on the top of
her head.

Bella’s eyes flickered open. “Mummy catched baddies on telly.”

Tuesday

1st April 2014

Chapter Fifty-Seven

F
orrester started the morning briefing with a smile. “Got some slightly good news this morning. The SOCOs found a couple of human hairs in the farmhouse near to where the first note was found. The colours didn’t match any of the family. Dark brown versus blonde. The hair on the wife and kids was shaved in the barn, so we think this could be a lead. They’re off getting deep analysis in Glasgow.”

He held up two newspapers. “
The Courier
and the
Press and Journal
have it on their front pages. It was in last night’s
Tele
, too. All of the Scottish nationals have gone with it, plus
The Guardian
,
Mail
,
Star
and
The Daily Telegraph
. Luckily, nobody’s gone with the notes or video in any great detail.”

Vicky stared at Zoë. “Keeping on topic, how are you doing with the email Anita Skinner received?”

“I had a good look. It had links to the notes used as well as the video. I don’t think we’ll get anything from it but I’ve sent it to a few contacts to verify. I think she’s innocent. Since last night, I’ve got hold of a few other copies of this email, which suggests she’s not involved.”

“Good work. Sorry, sir.”

Forrester shrugged. “The phones have started going mental and we’ve had to divert some of the calls to Edinburgh. Nothing of note so far. I want the DCs going through call logs as a priority, reporting to Mac or Vicky on an hourly basis.” He smiled at MacDonald. “How’s the street team doing?”

“Uniform still going around the industrial estate. Not got much, I’m afraid. Don’t expect anything at this point but it’s worth a shot.” MacDonald waved a sheet of paper around. “Just received a copy of the statements from the two Polish farm workers. Uniform reckon they’ve checked out but I want to go through them with a fine-tooth comb after this.”

“Good work.” Forrester leaned back against the wall. “Did you get a chance to look at the Wildlife Crime Unit leads?”

“Yes, sir. Was in till ten last night going through the stuff then in at six to finish off.”

Vicky rolled her eyes at Karen. How many Brownie points was that?

Forrester folded his arms. “And did you get anywhere?”

MacDonald checked a notepad. “Gave me two key leads they reckon are possibly relevant. Both have undercover operatives so we’re treading on eggshells.” He licked his lips. “First, commune near Redford called Phorever Love, spelled with a Ph.”

Vicky smirked. “Sounds like a Shamen song.”

Forrester winked. “Showing your age there, Vicky.”

“Wildlife guys gave us permission to speak to them about our cases.” MacDonald sniffed. “Group’s got a public profile, usually picket places. Did Hunter’s Farm a few years ago, stopped the
delivery
lorries getting in for a week before they were turfed out.”

Forrester stood up straight. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do they reckon they’re involved?”

MacDonald shrugged. “Why they gave us the lead, I suppose.”

“What’s the other one?”

MacDonald checked his notepad again. “Other lead is a group of cyberterrorists, thought to be located in Scotland. Haven’t got an exact location — they could be anywhere, but there’s a suspicion they may be in rural Angus. An off-grid kind of deal.”

“Why do they think this lot might be involved?”

“Took down a few company websites, including a GMO company in Midlothian and a cattle feed company in Paisley. Sites were down for over two weeks. Hacked a few meat companies’ Twitter accounts and so on. Made them look like idiots.”

Forrester rubbed his chin. “Right, Vicky, I want you to focus on this camp.”

“Will do, sir.”

“You’ve been dealing with this ‘dark web’ stuff I won’t even begin to pretend to understand, so can you take lead on the cyberterrorists as well? Be careful no cover’s blown. These are people’s lives we’re dealing with, all right?”

“Certainly.”

“Fine. Mac, please focus on the door-to-door investigation. That’ll need a lot more attention given the news conference
yesterday
.”

“Sure thing.”

“Okay. Dismissed.”

Karen grabbed Vicky’s arm as everyone got to their feet. “How did it go last night, then?”

Vicky spotted Zoë making a beeline for her. “Got to go. Chat at lunchtime, yeah?”

“Fine.” Karen stomped off.

Zoë tugged her hair, avoiding eye contact. “Do you want to go through that dark net stuff just now?”

Vicky shrugged. “You know what you’re doing more than me. I’m going to head out to Redford once I’ve read the report, so if you can let me know where you’ve got to by lunchtime?”

“Sure.” Zoë blinked a few times. “That’s fine.”

Vicky took a deep breath. “Speak to DC Considine if you need anything else.”

“I’ll try not to need anything.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

C
onsidine turned right just before the road to Crombie Park, heading deeper into the Angus wilderness.

Vicky glanced at him. “Did Zoë speak to you about the cyberterrorists, Stephen?”

“Aye, she did. I briefed her. Poor thing was lost in that case file MacDonald gave her.”

“I see.” Vicky smirked. “And you helped her, of course?”

Considine blushed as he powered through Carmyllie, passing a farm shop Vicky had been to a few times with her parents. “Of course I helped her. It’s a useful lead.”

“Do you have a thing for her?”

“No comment.”

Vicky had to look out of the window to stop from laughing.

Considine turned down a country lane, passing entrances to two large farms on opposite sides of the road, before taking a right along a single track. “It’s down here, I think.” He trundled on for a few minutes, the car’s suspension rocking. “Thank God we took the Python.”

“Don’t call your car that. Seriously.”

“I was thinking of getting a sticker above the windscreen.”

“If you do that, don’t even think of driving it on police
business
.”

“I’m joking.”

“Of course you were.”

Considine slowed as they came to a set of large walls, barbed wire along the top, a steel gate blocking the entrance, ‘Phorever Love’ graffitied in pink and red. “Doesn’t look like much love’s going on in there. It’s like something out of that
Walking Dead
thing on the telly.”

“I seriously hope there are no zombies in there.”

“Can’t beat zombies.”

“Zombies or not, it’s not exactly what I was expecting from a hippie commune.” Vicky pointed to a passing space on the left. “Pull in here.”

Considine slowed to a halt, leaving the car running.

“Doesn’t the Python know to turn itself off?”

Considine twisted the key in the ignition, killing the engine. “I’m regretting telling you.”

“You do know you should really regret calling it that, don’t you?”

“Whatever.”

They got out of the car and walked over to the gates.

Considine knocked on the corrugated iron then shook his hand in the air. “That was bloody sore.”

The gate slid open. Two men stood there, both dressed in army surplus clothes. The older of the two had blond dreadlocks tugged back into a ponytail, while the younger one’s shaved head had the look of a soldier rather than a Buddhist. Both had dark rings around their eyes.

Vicky held out her warrant card. “We’re looking to speak to the leader.”

Dreadlocks nodded. “That’ll be me, then. Kevin Simmers. I run this place.”

“We’re investigating two vigilante actions in Dundee, sir. They appear to have been committed against people with a public record of animal cruelty. Can you help us?”

Simmers laughed. “With what?”

“Do you know anything about it?”

“No, we don’t. Goodbye.”

The skinhead edged closer. “Are you implying we’re up to
something
?”

Vicky narrowed her eyes at him. “And who are you?”

“Andy Salewicz. Not that it’s any business of yours.”

Vicky folded her arms. “We’ve got intelligence linking your group to these crimes.”

“Where did you get this from?”

“I’m not going to name our sources. We believe you picketed Hunter’s Farm in Barry. Is that correct?”

Salewicz shrugged. “Might’ve done.”

“I wonder if you’d any idea who might wish to trap the whole family in a cage in the farm?”

Salewicz glanced at the leader. “Want me to get rid of them, Kevin?”

Simmers shook his head before taking a deep breath. “Officers, we’re a strictly pacifist group. When were these crimes supposed to have been committed?”

“Wednesday and Sunday, for starters.”

Simmers chuckled. “We’ve just had a week-long rave.”

“A week-long rave?”

“We had a police presence throughout. Nobody got in or out. Whoever gave you this intelligence isn’t very intelligent, are they?”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Y
ou got a minute, Euan?” Vicky drummed a finger on the back of MacDonald’s desk.

MacDonald put down the report he was reading. “Sure.”

“Is Forrester in?”

“Up with Raven.”

“Let’s go to his office.” Vicky led him across the room, shutting the door behind them. “Who gave you the intel on those crusties?”

“Not a very nice way of putting it.”

“Who gave you it?”

MacDonald shrugged. “Wildlife Crime boys. Why?”

“It was shite.”

“In what way?”

Vicky rested a hand on her hip. “For starters, they’ve just had a week-long rave with police presence. Gives them a pretty robust alibi.”

“Right.” MacDonald took a deep breath. “You ask about the picket at Hunter’s Farm?”

“I did. They admitted it.”

“So?”

“So the problem is, nobody at that place left in the last week. I checked on the drive back down — there were no fewer than four officers stationed by it
all week
.”

“Fairly solid, I suppose.”

“It is.” Vicky put her other hand to her hip. “It was a bit of a waste of time heading out there. Me and Considine in the Python.”

“The Python?”

“It’s what he calls that Subaru he drives.”

MacDonald smirked. “Boy racer, I told you.”

“What can we do about this?”

“I’ll get back to my contact, see what he’s got to say about it.”

“Do you want me to speak to them?”

He shook his head. “I’ll deal with it.”

“Fine.”

MacDonald rubbed his chin. “Getting anywhere with the cyberterrorists?”

“I haven’t caught up with Zoë yet.”

“Right.”

Vicky sat on the edge of the desk and sighed. “We’re chasing our tails.”

“Tell me about it. Gave the street teams a rocket up their arses but I doubt it’ll do any good. Nothing there we don’t already have.”

“What about the phones?”

“Usual nonsense. Lots of people taking credit for it, none of them did it. Put them in a room with a twenty-stone constable and they change their minds pretty quickly.”

“I’m not getting a warm fuzzy feeling about this.”

“These cases can be like that. Can take a while.”

“I guess you’re right.” Vicky got up again. “Have you seen Zoë?”

“She’s not been at her desk all morning.”

“She has been working, though, right?”

MacDonald held up his hands. “No idea. If I see her I’ll point her in your direction.”

“You do that.”

“You had your lunch?”

Vicky nodded. “Just had a sit-down with Karen.”

“Oh, okay.” MacDonald nodded and left her in the room.

She slumped back in the seat — how had she gone from giving him a doing to being coached?

She stood up, smoothing down her skirt before leaving
Forrester’s
office.

Zoë stood by their desks, MacDonald pointing at Vicky. “She’s just there.”

Vicky smiled at her as she sat. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Zoë remained standing. “Stephen said you were looking for me. Sorry, I’ve been up with the Forensic guys.”

Considine sat opposite them, perching on a chair the wrong way round. “Zoë’s done a search on the known activities of your cyberterrorist group.”

Vicky leaned back in her chair, eyes drilling into Zoë. “What have you found?”

“I managed to match some stuff together.”

“That sounds technical.”

Considine raised his eyebrows. “Zoë’s managed to tie the IP addresses from the cyberterrorists to this group out in Redford.”

Vicky sat back for a few seconds, trying to process it. “Why didn’t this come up before?”

Zoë kicked her heels. “The search hadn’t come back. Some things take time, you know?”

“Okay. Do you have people we can bring in for interviews?”

“I’ve got IP addresses linking back to Phorever Love but I’ve not got real people, no.”

‘Zoë, can you work on linking the Muirheads and Brian
Morton
to these crimes? See if one of them posted that video?’

‘Will do.’

‘Cheers.’

Vicky folded her arms and glanced at MacDonald. His eyes darted up from her legs. “Euan, has your Wildlife squad guy got back to you yet?”

MacDonald shook his head. “Not yet.”

“Reckon we should bring them in?”

MacDonald inspected his nails. “Not too happy about it. Got a deep undercover operative at risk there.”

“I’m not sure we’ve got anything concrete on them yet.” Vicky tossed her ponytail. “Are there any links to xbeast?”

Zoë nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Active posters on there, but I can’t trace them back. Sorry.”

“Should we bring the Muirheads and those two brothers back in?”

“What I’m thinking.” MacDonald got to his feet. “Let’s ask them about the group and about the hen farm attack.”

Vicky stood up. “I’ll take Brian Morton.”

MacDonald glanced at Karen. “See you in the car park in
five, okay?”

Vicky let him go.

Karen leaned over the desk and winked. “Physical contact, Vicks.”

“Stop it.”

“He’s getting on well with Zoë.”

“She’s welcome to him.”