Read Online The Night Hunter by Caro Ramsay - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Caro Ramsay
Ads: Link
thinking of every house that I go past as I drive up here, every remote light on a hillside.
‘But now we know where one of them ended up. My ex-colleagues with Strathclyde’s finest are spending most of the day today going through all those wee crofts dotted around the Rest, every garage, every outhouse. Including your pal Eric’s.’ He smiles at me. ‘They’re trying to puzzle out where Lorna came from, if she really did come over the top of the rock face.
‘Eric thinks she was dumped from a car.’
He nods at me thoughtfully, as if agreeing with Eric’s thought process. ‘What was your opinion of Lorna, when you saw her? Physically? Medically? What do you think had happened to her?’ He gives me that encouraging nod again. I can see that he would have been a good interviewer.
‘Well, she was thin, her skin was poor, she had an injury to her left calf.’
‘Left calf?’ he repeats.
‘Yes. She was covered in scratches and scars – they were recent – but the injury to the leg was much older. She was pitiful. When I see her in my mind’s eye I think of those scenes from Belsen. Those long limbs, skeletally thin.’
‘And?’ he prompts.
I think, picturing her in my mind. The Henry The Eighth Tearoom recedes, and I am out there on the road again. I can feel the tarmac through my trousers, hear the sounds of the animals down near the water, feel the chill in the air. The weight of her head is on my knees, and there is a peculiar noise rattling from her. I take my jumper off, I roll it up, I look down the length of her … ‘Ankles,’ I say.
‘Ankles?’
‘They were discoloured.’ I try hard to think. ‘At first I thought they were marks from socks being tight but there were changes to the skin, as if she had been chained or shackled.’
‘OK …’
I find the thought shocking. Billy is made of harder stuff and crams another chip into his face and nods as though he finds this noteworthy.
‘Anything else that you’ve forgotten to tell the police about Sophie? And don’t lie to me, you’re rubbish at it.’
‘They know her gym bag was missing too. She always kept some stuff in it.’
‘Stuff for going to the gym or for going away for the weekend?’ He has spotted my omission. ‘With someone like Mark Laidlaw. They met through the refuge.’ He is thinking deeply now, staring into the middle distance. ‘She ever mention him to you? He is a person of interest, as they say.’
That is a black and white question – did
she
ever mention him to me? ‘No.’
‘Really?’
‘No.’
He gives me a long, hard look but I do not waver. He continues, ‘I’ve had a chat with the cop in charge of Gillian’s case although it’s barely active; the finding of Lorna might get it fired up again. I want to know the results of the PM and I do have my friends in low places. You need to talk to the new SIO.’
‘Why doesn’t he talk to Rod? He’s the one who knows all this, he’s in the middle of it all. I’ve lived up here since May.’
Billy sniffles slightly. ‘Look, Elvie, I need to clarify if Sophie is part of my case or not. Maybe she left of her own accord, maybe she has reasons for not getting in touch with her family. Maybe she was running from one of you. Sophie is a very attractive young lady, and Rod is your mum’s boyfriend. Maybe you should ask what was in that house that she wanted to get away from.’ He drains his coffee cup, puts a twenty on the table to cover the bill and leaves. I stare at the cold, glutinous chips sitting on his plate.
Billy knows as much about Sophie – my smiley and lovable big sister, cute as a box of pink peppermints, as adorable as a bunny – as there is to know. He is wily like a fox. I like the idea of sending the fox after the rabbit.
I am still mulling the conversation over in my mind as I take the Loch Eck road back to the house. Something runs in front of the car and I slam my foot on the brake to avoid a flash of red fur and fluffy
‘But now we know where one of them ended up. My ex-colleagues with Strathclyde’s finest are spending most of the day today going through all those wee crofts dotted around the Rest, every garage, every outhouse. Including your pal Eric’s.’ He smiles at me. ‘They’re trying to puzzle out where Lorna came from, if she really did come over the top of the rock face.
‘Eric thinks she was dumped from a car.’
He nods at me thoughtfully, as if agreeing with Eric’s thought process. ‘What was your opinion of Lorna, when you saw her? Physically? Medically? What do you think had happened to her?’ He gives me that encouraging nod again. I can see that he would have been a good interviewer.
‘Well, she was thin, her skin was poor, she had an injury to her left calf.’
‘Left calf?’ he repeats.
‘Yes. She was covered in scratches and scars – they were recent – but the injury to the leg was much older. She was pitiful. When I see her in my mind’s eye I think of those scenes from Belsen. Those long limbs, skeletally thin.’
‘And?’ he prompts.
I think, picturing her in my mind. The Henry The Eighth Tearoom recedes, and I am out there on the road again. I can feel the tarmac through my trousers, hear the sounds of the animals down near the water, feel the chill in the air. The weight of her head is on my knees, and there is a peculiar noise rattling from her. I take my jumper off, I roll it up, I look down the length of her … ‘Ankles,’ I say.
‘Ankles?’
‘They were discoloured.’ I try hard to think. ‘At first I thought they were marks from socks being tight but there were changes to the skin, as if she had been chained or shackled.’
‘OK …’
I find the thought shocking. Billy is made of harder stuff and crams another chip into his face and nods as though he finds this noteworthy.
‘Anything else that you’ve forgotten to tell the police about Sophie? And don’t lie to me, you’re rubbish at it.’
‘They know her gym bag was missing too. She always kept some stuff in it.’
‘Stuff for going to the gym or for going away for the weekend?’ He has spotted my omission. ‘With someone like Mark Laidlaw. They met through the refuge.’ He is thinking deeply now, staring into the middle distance. ‘She ever mention him to you? He is a person of interest, as they say.’
That is a black and white question – did
she
ever mention him to me? ‘No.’
‘Really?’
‘No.’
He gives me a long, hard look but I do not waver. He continues, ‘I’ve had a chat with the cop in charge of Gillian’s case although it’s barely active; the finding of Lorna might get it fired up again. I want to know the results of the PM and I do have my friends in low places. You need to talk to the new SIO.’
‘Why doesn’t he talk to Rod? He’s the one who knows all this, he’s in the middle of it all. I’ve lived up here since May.’
Billy sniffles slightly. ‘Look, Elvie, I need to clarify if Sophie is part of my case or not. Maybe she left of her own accord, maybe she has reasons for not getting in touch with her family. Maybe she was running from one of you. Sophie is a very attractive young lady, and Rod is your mum’s boyfriend. Maybe you should ask what was in that house that she wanted to get away from.’ He drains his coffee cup, puts a twenty on the table to cover the bill and leaves. I stare at the cold, glutinous chips sitting on his plate.
Billy knows as much about Sophie – my smiley and lovable big sister, cute as a box of pink peppermints, as adorable as a bunny – as there is to know. He is wily like a fox. I like the idea of sending the fox after the rabbit.
I am still mulling the conversation over in my mind as I take the Loch Eck road back to the house. Something runs in front of the car and I slam my foot on the brake to avoid a flash of red fur and fluffy
Similar Books
