The Dark Fear (11 page)

              ‘I apologise for dropping by unannounced. My partner, Dani, was keen I make sure that the unpleasant incident with the gunfire in the woods the other afternoon was properly recorded. I thought you might need a statement from me.’ James cleared his throat, having decided to get the worst over with quickly.

              ‘Aiden filed a thorough report. Your input won’t be necessary. Unfortunately, it’s something we experience from time to time. The estate covers hundreds of hectares, it’s impossible to know what’s going on in all of it.’

              Morrison arrived with a tray. He placed a large silver coffee pot and two tiny china cups on the table between them.

              When the butler had gone, James continued, ‘I think that Dani was hoping you’d report the incident to the City and Borders Police. A gun crime took place not far from here last week. She believes the sudden appearance of those men with rifles might be significant.’

              ‘
Air rifles
, Mr Irving. The distinction makes quite a difference.’

              They only had Newton’s word for that, James thought. He lifted the minute cup to his lips. ‘If I could ensure that the police have been informed, and am able to tell DCI Bevan as much, it would certainly make my life at home a lot easier.’

              David smiled. ‘Of course, I’ll ring them myself this afternoon.’

              ‘Thank you. I was also wondering if you might tell me a little more about the history of Langford. We found your talk the other evening fascinating. What happened to the house directly after the war was over?’

              ‘The army moved out in the summer of 1945. According to my grandfather, Spencer March, the Hall was pretty much in tatters. The roof was burnt away and the interior structurally unsound due to the intensity of the fire. The family had very little money, so the decision was made to donate a significant part of the house and land to the Scottish Heritage Trust. This meant that the process of restoration could begin. It brought in a new era for Langford.’

              ‘Part of this coastline still belongs to the Trust, doesn’t it?’

              ‘Yes, sections of the John Muir way are currently maintained by the Heritage Trust. But a major part of the Langford estate was sold off by them in the 1960s. The family managed to retain the Hall itself, a proportion of the land, along with the lodges and stables. The upkeep has been far easier to cope with since. The cottages bring in decent rents and the lodges have both now been sold privately.’

              James smiled. ‘I’m very glad they have.’ He shuffled forward. ‘But there must be a legacy of the war years. Those army divisions occupied the estate for four full years. Artillery training operations took place in the grounds and certainly on the beaches. You must still be digging up old artefacts. I bet you’ve got enough items to fill your own museum.’

              March placed his cup down gently. ‘Actually, surprisingly little has emerged over the years. I suppose because the estate is so vast, these items have simply become lost or deeply buried. As for the beach, I expect the sea has claimed all traces except for the concrete tank traps and gun emplacements.’

              ‘If you don’t mind me asking, where did the March family go to during the war?’

              ‘Oh, there was a house up in the Highlands that had been passed down to my grandfather on his mother’s side. The family spent the war up there. It was safer for the children, too.’

              James nodded.

              ‘Now, I’m sorry to rush you away, but I’ve got a meeting with one of my tenants in twenty minutes…’ March glanced at his watch.

              James decided that this was the aristocracy’s polite way of letting you know when it was time to sling your hook. ‘Of course, I’ve taken up far too much of your morning already.’

              David March stood, a little stiffly. ‘Adele was very taken with your Ms Bevan. She’s determined to have you both over for dinner again. Look out for a card through the door.’

              ‘I will, and thanks again for the coffee.’

*

‘Well, if the Earl of Westloch doesn’t contact the police within the next 48 hours, I’ll get Bob Gordon to give
him
a ring.’

              ‘Fair enough.’ James gazed down at the menu. He’d found a decent gastro pub in Haddington that he thought Dani would like. It provided some neutral territory upon which they could exchange their findings.

              James decided on his main, looking up to catch Dani’s eye. ‘So, how was old Lauriston? He was the Head when I was in my final few years at the Academy. I rather liked him.’

              ‘He came across as a typical member of senior management; unwilling to divulge any information that might make his business appear liable.’

              ‘Scott Academy isn’t a
business
as such, it’s a community. The needs of the students have always come first.’

              Dani shrugged. ‘Whenever money is involved, board members close ranks. I find it’s the same in any organisation.’

              James lifted a pint of 70 shilling up to his mouth. The action was designed to stop him from contradicting his companion. This lunch was supposed to be conciliatory.

              ‘But he did provide me with the contact details for the two teachers who were sacked after Cormac’s death in ’88. You never told me that Alex Galloway had been the boy’s father.’

              ‘To be honest, I’d completely forgotten the link. Gerry Cormac was a nasty piece of work. He bullied the younger lads. I’m not saying he deserved the fate he suffered, but I never took much notice of his background. I kept right out of his way.’

              ‘It’s strange that your dad developed this connection with Galloway, then.’

              ‘Dad’s line of work brought him into contact with the types of people that most folk would cross a street to avoid – not unlike your own profession.’

              Dani smiled. ‘Very true.’

              ‘It would be odd if you managed to track down Perkins and Dewar after all these years. The lads all used to fancy Miss Perkins like mad. Dewar was okay – if a little bit ‘old school’. Do you believe the pair might have held a grudge against Galloway for demanding they be sacked?’

              ‘It’s a very long time ago. Even if they did, it wouldn’t have taken twenty seven years for them to act on it.’ Dani sipped her diet coke.

              ‘Then why are you interested in them?’

              ‘I don’t know, really. Sometimes an event just strikes you as significant and you sense that all the details need to be examined.’ She placed her hand over his. ‘Do you recall exactly what happened on the tower that day?’

              James felt his nerves start to jangle. ‘Like you said, it was a really long time ago. We were all squashed up on the ledge. Cormac started picking on one of the other lads.’

              ‘Do you remember his name?’

              ‘Sorry, I don’t. There was some kind of scuffle. This other lad tried to fight back, I think. Then Cormac lost his balance. He just went over. It’s not like anybody pushed him. I suppose every witness says this, but it all happened in a flash.’

              To Dani’s dismay, she could see tears in his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry James. I shouldn’t have asked you to re-live it.’

              ‘I haven’t thought about that day in such a long time. From an adult’s perspective, it seems like a terrible waste of a young life. I don’t think I really realised that back then.’

              ‘
Why
were you all alone up there? Those teachers should have been with you.’ Dani felt a lump forming in her own throat.

              ‘It was just one of those things. Charlie had an asthma attack on the stairs. I expect Dewar thought the rest of us could look after ourselves. We were teenagers.’

              ‘
Charlie
? You remember him?’

              ‘Of course, Charlie Underwood had been in my class since the prep school. He was one of those kids who was always having accidents and getting into predicaments. If anyone was going to fall off a castle turret I would have put money on it being him.’

              ‘But it wasn’t him. It was the school bully. The son of a nasty East Lothian gangster. A boy who was not the Scott Academy type at all.’

              The waitress set down their plates.

              ‘You make it sound like it was deliberate, as if he was targeted.’

              Dani shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. It’s me thinking like a cop. An accident is never just an accident when the details are crossing my desk.’

              James chuckled. ‘I suppose that’s true.’ He took a bite of his burger, for the first time in nearly thirty years allowing his mind to replay the events that took place at Dornie Castle in the June of 1988. He’d been pushing it firmly aside during this long intervening period - blocking out the stark, unpleasant images of that day. But now, quietly eating his lunch, he let it all come back. It flooded over him like a wave. And somehow, certain elements of those returning images made him feel distinctly uneasy.              

Chapter 20

T
he bay window of the Bass Rock lounge bar, on the ground floor of the Craigleith Golf Club was wide enough to fit a table and chairs. The tall panes of glass were obscured by countless tiny droplets of rain, currently being blown against them by the fierce easterly wind.

              Sharon Moffett liked North Berwick. Her grandmother had lived in a council flat near the station. She’d spent a great deal of her childhood playing on the town’s long, sandy beaches.

              When Stuart Lamb arrived, Moffett noticed he’d grown a thick covering of grey flecked hairs on his chin and had a woollen cap pulled low over his eyes. The one-time detective moved straight towards the window seat, positioning himself with his back to the room.

              ‘Worried you might be recognised?’ Sharon asked with a grin.

              ‘I don’t want anyone from division seeing me drinking in one of Galloway’s establishments. The case against me is bad enough as it is.’

              ‘Even with the guy dead?’

              ‘
Especially
with the guy dead.’ He gratefully lifted the pint Sharon had lined up for him, perching the rim on his bottom lip. ‘Ta for the drink. I didn’t have you down as the golfing type.’ He took a long gulp.

              ‘My uncle’s a member. He’s out there on the course right now.’

              ‘In
this
foul weather?’ Stuart looked incredulous.

              ‘Oh aye. You’ll find him on the fairway even when the haar’s down, and you can barely see your hand in front of your face.’

              Stuart shrugged. ‘Each to their own, I suppose.’

              It was Sharon’s turn to cast her eyes about the room suspiciously. ‘Did you get my message?’

              ‘About the gun? Aye. Any luck with tracking down possible suppliers?’

              The DS lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘None of our informants knows of anyone on the street who supplies vintage firearms. Apparently, everything available nowadays is Russian.’

              ‘It’s been that way for at least a decade. The identification of the weapon as a Browning HP points away from the hit being ordered by a rival firm. Which is bad news for me.’

              ‘The killer could have owned the piece for years. It might even have been his father or grandfather’s. Bob’s totally pissed off. We’ve got pretty much nothing to take to the DCC.’

              Stuart glanced about him. ‘Have you looked into Galloway’s close work associates? I got to know the guy a bit, when I was undercover at Forth Logistics. He was careful. He wouldn’t have met someone at that lonely car-park unless he felt they didn’t constitute a threat. If DI Gordon is going cold on the organised crime angle, he might want to start examining Galloway’s inner circle.’

              Sharon nodded. ‘That’s not a bad idea. There’s a manager running this place right now, so
someone
must still be in charge of Galloway’s business empire.’

              ‘It’s a simple question of who benefits from his death, financially or otherwise,’ Stuart continued. ‘Just strip your investigation back to the fundamentals of detection.’

              Sharon looked thoughtful. ‘I’ll do that. Bob’s willing to take any advice he’s given.’

              Stuart cleared his throat. ‘And what about my disciplinary case? When will I be expected to testify?’

              ‘Things have gone quiet on that score. All efforts are being focussed on the Galloway murder. But as soon as his killer is found, you can bet your life that DCI Bevan will be in touch.’

              ‘Great,’ the man sighed. ‘I can’t wait.’

Chapter 21

D
CI Bevan was sitting outside another school office. But this plain foyer was in stark contrast to the entrance of the Scott Academy. Ladyhill High School in Livingston was a large comprehensive, comprising a series of grey stone buildings and a sprawling sports hall.

              Dani had been informed that one of the Assistant Heads, Mrs Alison Brewer, would be with her shortly. It hadn’t taken the detective long to track the woman down. The address she’d been given by the administrator at the Scott Academy was for Alison Perkin’s parents, whom she’d obviously still lived with back in 1988. The couple were perfectly happy to furnish Dani with their daughter’s current whereabouts.

              A door at the end of a long corridor swung open. A woman of roughly fifty years of age, medium height and build, approached the reception area. She paused by the desk and gave Dani a cautious glance.

              ‘Mrs Brewer?’ The DCI rose to her feet.