Against the Clock by John Carson (best mobile ebook reader TXT) 📕

I’ll get Janice to print them off. How long do you want to go back?’

‘Five years. No, make it six,’ Dunbar said.

Morton got up and left the office, then reappeared a couple of minutes later. ‘I don’t believe it; Janice has left. I thought she was going to take her lunch in the canteen today. Her sandwich box is there. Jesus, some women. Can you come back?’

Harry took his phone out. ‘I think I have Customs on speed dial,’ he said to Dunbar.

‘Give them a call then. Time’s running out.’

‘Okay, I’ll see if I can find the employment file,’ Morton said.

Just then, another midi coach pulled in and parked near the buses that were getting washed. Marshall Mann jumped out. Harry remembered him from Brian Robertson’s house, when he had come round with Morton and his wife.

Mann walked into the office and stopped when he saw the police officers. ‘Have you caught him? The man who took Sandra?’ he said.

‘No, sir,’ said Harry, ‘we haven’t caught him yet.’

Mann sighed. ‘God almighty, it’s hard to believe there’s a killer out there who killed those wee lassies. Who knows who’s next?’

‘You worked here long, Mr Mann?’ Dunbar asked.

‘I just work here part-time to help Mike out. As I said to you before, he’s my brother-in-law. I was married to his sister. My wife died.’

‘You have a full-time job?’

Mann hesitated for a moment before answering. ‘I’m a teacher.’

‘A teacher? You didn’t mention that yesterday.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. I knew you were busy with Brian Robertson.’

‘You came round with Mr Morton here yesterday. Were you were at his house with him when he got the call?’ Harry said.

‘No, I live just along the road. The cottage on the left at the railway bridge. Obviously, I know Brian too, from the time he was a driver here. I wanted to go along.’

‘You’re a teacher who moonlights as a bus driver?’ Dunbar said. ‘Money that bad in the teaching profession?’

Mann laughed. ‘No, I’m Mike’s brother-in-law. I just do this to help out.’

‘Do you teach at Sandra Robertson’s school?’ Harry asked, but he had a feeling he knew the answer already.

‘I did, yes. I transferred.’

‘Ah, there it is,’ Morton said. He looked at the detectives. ‘I’ve found the personnel file. I’ll print out the names for you.’

The printer started whirring and buzzing after a few seconds and spat out several sheets of paper. Morton got up and handed them to Harry.

‘I’ll have these men checked out,’ Harry said.

‘Do that. As far as I know, all those men, and one woman, didn’t have a criminal record. If you find out they did, then it’s got nothing to do with me.’

‘Which one lives in Dalgety Bay?’

Morton pointed to a name on the sheet. ‘Him. Dougal Dixon. Twat. He worked a month and a bit. Didn’t even have the decency to finish his shift that day.’

Harry looked at the sheets. The employment start and end dates were next to each name. ‘Some of them don’t stay long, you said. Why is that?’

Morton shrugged. ‘They think they’re coming to work for a huge corporation, but we’re a small business here. We pay decent money, but I can’t give the same benefits as the big company.’

‘How long have you worked here, Mr Mann?’

‘About six years, give or take. I started off just washing the buses for a couple of years, but Mike persuaded me to get my licence.’

‘Aye, there’s always a job here for the lad if the teaching thing goes tits up.’

Just then, Harry’s phone rang and he answered it. He spoke briefly to the caller before hanging up. ‘We have to go. Thanks for this, Mr Morton. We’ll be in touch.’

Twenty-Two

DI Karen Shiels parked the car outside a playground across from the blocks of modern housing.

‘Christ, I hate this part of the job,’ she said.

Simon Gregg, squeezed into the passenger seat, was looking across at the playground. ‘Aye, me too.’ His own child had died a few years before.

They got out into the sunshine, but Edinburgh was a canny beast and would tempt the unwary out without the proper clothing and then blooter them. To prove its point, it made Karen shiver with a chill wind as they crossed the road.

‘Nice area,’ Gregg remarked.

‘It is.’

The address they were looking for was on the main road, overlooking the playground. Karen wondered if Zoe’s parents ever sat and stared out the window, imagining their child playing there.

They had called ahead, and Mrs Harris had assured them that she and her husband would be in all afternoon. There had been an edge of panic in the mother’s voice.

Karen buzzed the button next to the Harris name on the intercom and the door clicked open.

First floor, door on the right. Those were the instructions.

Mrs Harris was waiting for them when they got there, and Karen introduced herself and Gregg as they were shown into the living room without any offer of refreshments. Karen was glad. How could you sit and drink tea when you were about to turn a couple’s world upside down?

Mr Harris was in the living room, pacing. He stopped and faced the officers as they came in.

‘We’ve been waiting five years for this visit,’ he said by way of introduction.

The room was spotless and Karen noted a toy box in one corner, waiting for its owner to return, now a fruitless endeavour. The corner of the room was rounded, made up of windows, giving the room an airy feel.

‘Can you both sit down?’ Karen said.

‘No, I want to stand,’ Harris said, like he was wired with caffeine. Karen couldn’t physically make him but was glad to see Mrs Harris sit down.

‘Very well. I’m sorry to tell you that a little girl was found in Burntisland earlier today and we –’

‘No!’ Harris shouted at the top of his voice before Karen could finish. He took a step towards Karen and Gregg stepped in between.

‘Mr Harris, I think it’s best if you sit down,’ Gregg said to him, holding his arms, controlling the