Theyd stood under a streetlamp for what felt like a very long time, shivering under the frowning gaze of the constable Alex had summoned to the scene and one of his colleagues, a grizzled man in uniform with a scowl and a stoop. Neither officer spoke to the four young men, though their eyes never strayed from them.
Eventually, a harassed-looking man huddled into an overcoat that looked two sizes too big for him slithered over to them, his thin-soled shoes no match for the terrain. Lawson, Mackenzie, take these boys down to the station, keep them apart when you get there. Well be down in a wee while to talk to them. Then he turned and stumbled back in the direction of their terrible discovery, now hidden behind canvas screens through which an eerie green light permeated, staining the snow.
The younger policeman gave his colleague a worried look. How are we going to get them back?
He shrugged. Youll have to squeeze them in your panda. I came up in the Sherpa van.
Can we not take them back down in that? Then you could keep an eye on them while Im driving.
The older man shook his head, pursing his lips. If you say so, Lawson. He gestured to the Laddies fi Kirkcaldy. Come on, youse. Into the van. And no messing about, right? He herded them towards a police van, calling over his shoulder to Lawson, You better get the keys off Tam Watt.
Lawson set off up the slope, leaving them with Mackenzie. I wouldnae like to be in your shoes when the CID get off that hill, he said conversationally as he climbed in behind them. Alex shivered, though not from the cold. It was slowly dawning on him that the police were regarding him and his companions as potential suspects rather than witnesses. Theyd been given no opportunity to confer, to get their ducks in a row. The four of them exchanged uneasy looks. Even Weird had straightened out enough to realize this wasnt some daft game.
When Mackenzie hustled them into the van, there had been a few seconds when theyd been left alone. Just sufficient time for Ziggy to mutter loud enough for their ears, For fucks sake, dont mention the Land Rover. Instant comprehension had filled their eyes.
Christ, aye, Weird said, head jerking back in terrified realization. Mondo chewed the skin round his thumbnail, saying nothing. Alex merely nodded.
The police station hadnt felt any more composed than the crime scene. The desk sergeant complained bitterly when the two uniformed officers arrived with four bodies who were supposed to be prevented from communicating with each other. It turned out there were insufficient interview rooms to keep them separate. Weird and Mondo were taken to wait in unlocked cells, while Alex and Ziggy were left to their own devices in the stations two interview rooms.
The room Alex found himself in was claustrophobically small. It was barely three paces square, as he established within minutes of being shut in to kick his heels. There were no windows, and the low ceiling with its greying polystyrene tiles made it all the more oppressive. It contained a chipped wooden table and four unmatching wooden chairs that looked exactly as uncomfortable as they felt. Alex tried them all in turn, finally settling for one that didnt dig into his thighs as much as the others.
He wondered if he was allowed to smoke. Judging by the smell of the stale air, he wouldnt have been the first. But he was a well-brought-up lad, and the absence of an ashtray gave him pause. He searched his pockets and found the screwed-up silver paper from a packet of Polo mints. Carefully, he spread it out, folding the edges up to form a rough tray. Then he took out his packet of Bensons and flipped the top open. Nine left. That should see him through, he thought.
Alex lit his cigarette and allowed himself to think about his position for the first time since theyd arrived at the police station. It was obvious, now he thought about it. Theyd found a body. They had to be suspects. Everybody knew that the prime candidates for arrest in a murder investigation were either the ones who last saw the victim alive or the ones who found the body. Well, that was them on both counts.
He shook his head. The body. He was starting to think like them. This wasnt just a body, it was Rosie. Somebody he knew, however slightly. He supposed that made it all the more suspicious. But he didnt want to consider that now. He wanted that horror far from his mind. Whenever he closed his eyes, flashbacks to the hill played like a movie. Beautiful, sexy Rosie broken and bleeding on the snow. Think about something else, he said aloud.
He wondered how the others would react to questioning. Weird was off his head, that was for sure. Hed had more than drink tonight. Alex had seen him with a joint in his hand earlier, but with Weird, there was no telling what else he might have indulged in. There had been tabs of acid floating around. Alex had refused it himself a couple of times. He didnt mind dope but he preferred not to fry his brains. But Weird was definitely in the market for anything that would allegedly expand his consciousness. Alex fervently hoped that whatever hed swallowed, inhaled or snorted, it would have worn off before it was his turn to be interviewed. Otherwise, Weird was likely to piss the cops off very badly indeed. And any fool knew that was a bad idea in the middle of a murder investigation.
Mondo would be another kettle of fish. This would freak him out in a totally different way. Mondo was, when you got right down to it, too sensitive for his own good. Hed always been the one picked on at school, called a jessie partly because of the way he looked and partly because he never fought back. His hair hung in tight ringlets round his pixie face, his big sapphire eyes always wide like a mouse keeking out from a divot. The lassies liked it, that was for sure. Alex had once overheard a pair of them giggling that Davey Kerr looked just like Marc Bolan. But in a school like Kirkcaldy High, what won you favour with the lassies could equally earn you a kicking in the cloakroom. If Mondo hadnt had the other three to back him up, hed have had a pretty thin time of it. To his credit, he knew that, and he repaid their services with interest. Alex knew hed never have got through Higher French without Mondos help.
But Mondo would be on his own with the police. Nobody to hide behind. Alex could picture him now, head hung low, tossing the odd glance out from under his brows, picking at the skin round his thumbnail or flicking the lid of his Zippo open and shut. Theyd get frustrated with him, think he had something to hide. The thing theyd never suss, not in a million years, was that the big secret with Mondo was that ninety-nine times out of a hundred, there was no secret. There was no mystery wrapped in an enigma. There was just a guy who liked Pink Floyd, fish suppers with lashings of vinegar, Tennents lager and getting laid. And who, bizarrely, spoke French like hed learned it at his mothers knee.
Except of course tonight there was a secret. And if anybody was going to blow it, it would be Mondo. Please God, let him not give up the Land Rover, Alex thought. At the very least, theyd all be landed with the charge of taking and driving away without the owners consent. At the very worst, the cops would realize one or all of them had the perfect means to transport a dying girls body to a quiet hillside.
Weird wouldnt tell; he had most to lose. Hed been the one whod turned up at the Lammas grinning from ear to ear, dangling Henry Cavendishs key-ring from his finger like the winner at a wife-swapping party.
Weird wouldnt tell; he had most to lose. Hed been the one whod turned up at the Lammas grinning from ear to ear, dangling Henry Cavendishs key-ring from his finger like the winner at a wife-swapping party.
Alex wouldnt tell, he knew that. Keeping secrets was one of the things he did best. If the price of avoiding suspicion was to keep his mouth shut, he had no doubts he could manage it.
Ziggy wouldnt tell either. It was always safety first with Ziggy. After all, he was the one who had sneaked away from the party to move the Land Rover once hed realized how off his head Weird was getting. Hed taken Alex to one side and said, Ive taken the keys out of Weirds coat pocket. Im going to shift the Land Rover, put it out of temptations way. Hes already been taking people for a spin round the block, its time to put a stop to it before he kills himself or somebody else. Alex had no idea how long hed been gone, but when hed returned, Ziggy had told him the Land Rover was safely stowed up behind one of the industrial units off the Largo Road. We can go and pick it up in the morning, hed said.
Alex had grinned. Or we could just leave it there. A nice wee puzzle for Hooray Henry when he comes back next term.
I dont think so. As soon as he realized his precious wheels werent parked where he left them, hed go to the police and drop us right in it. And our fingerprints are all over it.
Hed been right, Alex thought. There was no love lost between the Laddies fi Kirkcaldy and the two Englishmen who shared their six-room campus house. There was no way Henry would see the funny side of Weird helping himself to the Land Rover. Henry didnt see the funny side of much that his house-mates did. So, Ziggy wouldnt tell. That was for sure.
But Mondo just might. Alex hoped Ziggys warning had penetrated Mondos self-absorption enough for him to think through the consequences. Telling the cops about Weird helping himself to someone elses car wouldnt get Mondo off the hook. It would only put all four of them firmly on it. Besides, hed been driving it himself, taking that lassie home to Guardbridge. For once in your life, think it through, Mondo.
Now, if it was a thinker you wanted, Ziggy was your man. Behind the apparent openness, the easy charm and the quick intellect, there was a lot more going on than anyone knew. Alex had been pals with Ziggy for nine and a half years, and he felt as though hed only scratched the surface. Ziggy was the one who would surprise you with an insight, knock you off balance with a question, make you look at something through fresh eyes because hed twisted the world like a Rubiks Cube and seen it differently. Alex knew one or two things about Ziggy that he felt pretty sure were still hidden from Mondo and Weird. That was because Ziggy had wanted him to know, and because Ziggy knew his secrets would always be safe with Alex.
He imagined how Ziggy would be with his interrogators. Hed seem relaxed, calm, at ease with himself. If anyone could persuade the cops that their involvement with the body on Hallow Hill was entirely innocent, it was Ziggy.
Detective Inspector Barney Maclennan threw his damp coat over the nearest chair in the CID office. It was about the size of a primary school classroom, bigger than they normally needed. St Andrews wasnt high on Fife Constabularys list of crime hotspots, and that was reflected in their staffing levels. Maclennan was head of CID out at the edge of the empire not because he lacked ambition but because he was a fully paid-up member of the awkward squad, the sort of bolshie copper senior officers liked best at a distance. Normally, he chafed at the lack of anything interesting to keep him occupied, but that didnt mean he welcomed the murder of a young lassie on his patch.
Theyd got an ID right away. The pub Rosie Duff worked in was an occasional drop-in for some of the uniformed boys, and PC Jimmy Lawson, the first man at the locus, had recognized her immediately. Like most of the men at the scene, hed looked shell-shocked and nauseous. Maclennan couldnt remember the last time theyd had a murder on his patch that hadnt been a straightforward domestic; these lads hadnt seen enough to harden them to the sight theyd come upon on the snowy hilltop. Come to that, hed only seen a couple of murder victims himself, and never anything quite as pathetic as the abused body of Rosie Duff.
According to the police surgeon, it looked like shed been raped and stabbed in the lower abdomen. A single, vicious blow carving its lethal track upwards through her gut. And it had probably taken her quite a while to die. Just thinking about it made Maclennan want to lay hands on the man responsible and beat the crap out of him. At times like this, the law felt more like a hindrance than a help when it came to achieving justice.
Maclennan sighed and lit a cigarette. He sat down at his desk and made notes of what little information hed learned so far. Rosemary Duff. Nineteen years old. Worked in the Lammas Bar. Lived in Strathkinness with her parents and two older brothers. The brothers worked in the paper mill out at Guardbridge, her father was a groundsman up at Craigtoun Park. Maclennan didnt envy Detective Constable Iain Shaw and the WPC hed sent up to the village to break the news. Hed have to talk to the family himself in due course, he knew that. But he was better employed trying to get this investigation moving. It wasnt as if they were swarming with detectives who had a clue about running a major inquiry. If they were going to avoid being pushed out to the sidelines by the big boys from headquarters, Maclennan had to get the show on the road and make it look good.
He looked impatiently at his watch. He needed another CID man before he could start interviewing the four students who claimed theyd found the body. Hed told DC Allan Burnside to get back down to the station as soon as he could, but there was still no sign of him. Maclennan sighed. Goons and balloons, that was what he was stuck with out here.
He slipped his feet out of his damp shoes and swivelled round so he could rest them on the radiator. God, but it was a hell of a night to be starting a murder inquiry. The snow had turned the crime scene into a nightmare, masking evidence, making everything a hundred times more difficult. Who could tell which traces had been left by the killer, and which by the witnesses? That was assuming, of course, that those were separate entities. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Maclennan thought about his interview strategy.
All the received wisdom indicated he should speak first to the lad whod actually found the body. Well-built lad, broad-shouldered, hard to see much of his face inside the big snorkel hood of the parka. Maclennan leaned back for his notebook. Alex Gilbey, that was the one. But he had a funny feeling about that one. It wasnt that hed been exactly shifty, more that hed not met Maclennans eyes with the kind of piteous candour that most young lads in his shoes would have shown. And he certainly looked strong enough to carry Rosies dying body up the gentle slope of Hallow Hill. Maybe there was more going on here than met the eye. It wouldnt be the first time a murderer had engineered the discovery of his victims body to include himself. No, hed let young Mr Gilbey sweat a wee bit longer.
The desk sergeant had told him that the other interview room was occupied by the medical student with the Polish name. He was the one who had been adamant that Rosie had still been alive when they found her, claiming hed done all he could to keep her that way. Hed seemed pretty cool in the circumstances, cooler than Maclennan would have managed. He thought hed start there. Just as soon as Burnside showed his face.