fro m him.”
Forrester stared at Considine. “Do you think he’s a suspect?”
“I seriously doubt it, sir. He’s got alibis for starters and Paul’s a good mate of his. Checked it with a few people there, plus a bar they go to down the road.”
“Let’s keep an open mind on it, okay?” Forrester tapped at Notes on the whiteboard. “It seems like there’s some sort of connection to these dogs, right?”
“I agree.” Vicky held up a photocopy. “ ‘Not so nice, is it?’ I’d say someone’s trying to send Rachel a message.”
“Think it’s this Gary Black boy?”
“Could be. Other than the fact he’s got his money back and he donated the cash to an animal charity, he’s still got a motive.” Vicky drew a ring around his name. “He’s been doing some research into it and he could’ve got angrier with them.”
“Interesting.” Forrester clicked his tongue. “Has any terror group claimed ownership? PETA or anything like that?”
“The letters were unsigned, sir, and I’m not aware of any phone calls or anything like that.”
“We should speak to the National Crime Agency about this, Vicky. We may be dealing with a group we’ve never heard of.”
“Had experience with the NCA myself. SOCA, formerly.” MacDonald shrugged. “Happy to help.”
“Done.” Forrester wrote Mac — NCA on the Actions list. “Anything else, Vicky?”
“I’d like to bring in an IT analyst, if that’s okay.”
Forrester scowled. “Why?”
“Given there’s a possibility of a terror angle, we need to scour the internet. Some group might’ve already taken credit and we just don’t know. Someone might’ve been mouthy on Facebook or Twitter . Besides, Paul Joyce said there was a camera involved.”
“They were filming them?”
“Aye.”
“Bloody hell.” Forrester pinched his nose. “I’ll see what I can do about an analyst, okay? Probably only got budget for tomorrow. ” Forrester scanned the room. “Is there anything else we can get o n with?”
“I think it’s a waiting game, sir.” Vicky grimaced. “We’ve got detectives and uniformed officers going round the various locations. We might get something tomorrow, we might not.”
Forrester put the pen back. “Right. I’ll need to give DCI Raven an update on this. I want a briefing at nine tomorrow but I expect you all to be in earlier, okay?” He marched towards the corridor.
MacDonald turned to Vicky. “Didn’t get that coffee, did we?”
“It’s been a day from hell. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to in Glasgow.”
“Don’t know — rescuing two kidnap victims is a pretty good result.”
“I’m not sure we really rescued them, though. The mobile led us there. They’d have known we’d be monitoring it.” Vicky stood up. “Let’s get that coffee tomorrow, okay?”
MacDonald patted her shoulder. “Look forward to it.”
Chapter Sixteen
V icky entered the Spar on Barry Road in Carnoustie, wandering around the small shop looking for inspiration. It still had a sickly sweet smell from the bakery section, mixing with the smell of off oranges. She reached into the fridge and picked up a bottle of South African Chardonnay.
“Still tanning the wine, I see?” Liz stood next to her, a grin on her face.
Vicky tilted her head at Liz’s basket, where three bottles of red nestled underneath a bag of bagels. “You can hardly talk.”
“Still, I’m not a police officer.”
“We’re not all alcoholics, you know.” Vicky laughed. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks, Liz. How’s it going?”
“You know how it is.” Liz rubbed a hand down Vicky’s arm, a frown etched on her forehead. “How are you coping?”
“I’m fine.”
“I mean really. Bottles of wine aren’t the answer.”
Vicky sighed, looking around the shop for prying ears — the closest was a man in a dress shirt and tracksuit bottoms checking out the strong cider, holding a can at arm’s reach, glasses over his white hair.
Forrester stared at Considine. “Do you think he’s a suspect?”
“I seriously doubt it, sir. He’s got alibis for starters and Paul’s a good mate of his. Checked it with a few people there, plus a bar they go to down the road.”
“Let’s keep an open mind on it, okay?” Forrester tapped at Notes on the whiteboard. “It seems like there’s some sort of connection to these dogs, right?”
“I agree.” Vicky held up a photocopy. “ ‘Not so nice, is it?’ I’d say someone’s trying to send Rachel a message.”
“Think it’s this Gary Black boy?”
“Could be. Other than the fact he’s got his money back and he donated the cash to an animal charity, he’s still got a motive.” Vicky drew a ring around his name. “He’s been doing some research into it and he could’ve got angrier with them.”
“Interesting.” Forrester clicked his tongue. “Has any terror group claimed ownership? PETA or anything like that?”
“The letters were unsigned, sir, and I’m not aware of any phone calls or anything like that.”
“We should speak to the National Crime Agency about this, Vicky. We may be dealing with a group we’ve never heard of.”
“Had experience with the NCA myself. SOCA, formerly.” MacDonald shrugged. “Happy to help.”
“Done.” Forrester wrote Mac — NCA on the Actions list. “Anything else, Vicky?”
“I’d like to bring in an IT analyst, if that’s okay.”
Forrester scowled. “Why?”
“Given there’s a possibility of a terror angle, we need to scour the internet. Some group might’ve already taken credit and we just don’t know. Someone might’ve been mouthy on Facebook or Twitter . Besides, Paul Joyce said there was a camera involved.”
“They were filming them?”
“Aye.”
“Bloody hell.” Forrester pinched his nose. “I’ll see what I can do about an analyst, okay? Probably only got budget for tomorrow. ” Forrester scanned the room. “Is there anything else we can get o n with?”
“I think it’s a waiting game, sir.” Vicky grimaced. “We’ve got detectives and uniformed officers going round the various locations. We might get something tomorrow, we might not.”
Forrester put the pen back. “Right. I’ll need to give DCI Raven an update on this. I want a briefing at nine tomorrow but I expect you all to be in earlier, okay?” He marched towards the corridor.
MacDonald turned to Vicky. “Didn’t get that coffee, did we?”
“It’s been a day from hell. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to in Glasgow.”
“Don’t know — rescuing two kidnap victims is a pretty good result.”
“I’m not sure we really rescued them, though. The mobile led us there. They’d have known we’d be monitoring it.” Vicky stood up. “Let’s get that coffee tomorrow, okay?”
MacDonald patted her shoulder. “Look forward to it.”
Chapter Sixteen
V icky entered the Spar on Barry Road in Carnoustie, wandering around the small shop looking for inspiration. It still had a sickly sweet smell from the bakery section, mixing with the smell of off oranges. She reached into the fridge and picked up a bottle of South African Chardonnay.
“Still tanning the wine, I see?” Liz stood next to her, a grin on her face.
Vicky tilted her head at Liz’s basket, where three bottles of red nestled underneath a bag of bagels. “You can hardly talk.”
“Still, I’m not a police officer.”
“We’re not all alcoholics, you know.” Vicky laughed. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks, Liz. How’s it going?”
“You know how it is.” Liz rubbed a hand down Vicky’s arm, a frown etched on her forehead. “How are you coping?”
“I’m fine.”
“I mean really. Bottles of wine aren’t the answer.”
Vicky sighed, looking around the shop for prying ears — the closest was a man in a dress shirt and tracksuit bottoms checking out the strong cider, holding a can at arm’s reach, glasses over his white hair.
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