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

situation in case the man decided to take his grief out on the first available person.

Harris sat down next to his wife and tears started flowing down his cheeks. His wife sat staring, like a film paused near the end because somebody was talking.

‘We believe it’s Zoe,’ Karen finished, her voice softer. ‘I am so sorry. There will have to be a formal identification, and we’ll arrange for a police car to take you through to Dunfermline, where the post-mortem will take place.’

‘Why there?’ Mrs Harris said. ‘Why not here?’

‘Jurisdiction. The pathologist there will take good care of your daughter.’

‘I just want her to come back home,’ Harris said, starting to cry.

His wife held it together better. ‘How…did she die?’

‘Initial reports suggest carbon monoxide poisoning, but the exact cause will have to be determined officially.’

Harris stopped crying for a moment. ‘Wait, carbon monoxide poisoning? How can you tell?’

‘There are certain indicators,’ Gregg said.

‘How long has she been dead?’

‘An estimate suggests a few weeks. I can’t go into any more speculation, as we have to wait for the pathologist’s report.’

‘A few weeks?’ Mrs Harris said. ‘How can that be? She’s been gone for five years.’

‘We believe her abductor kept her somewhere.’

‘Where?’

‘That’s what we’re trying to establish. And I’m going to ask you some questions, so I want you to think hard.’

The parents both nodded.

‘I know you went over this at the time with the police, but can you think of anything that was unusual on the day Zoe was taken?’

Mrs Harris looked at her husband, then back at Karen. ‘I’m not sure what you mean by “anything unusual”.’

‘It was a Friday, so I’m assuming she would have gone to school and come home again before you went over to Burntisland?’

‘Yes, she was at school as normal. Nothing unusual. Oh, wait!’ Mrs Harris snapped her fingers and all eyes were on her. ‘She was upset that day.’

‘What about?’ Karen said, involuntarily taking a step forward.

‘Her teacher was off. She got on very well with him. He was a young man, great with the kids. But for some reason, that day they had a substitute teacher, some old crow that Zoe didn’t like.’

‘What was her teacher’s name?’

‘Marshall Mann,’ Harris answered right away, without any hesitation.

‘What line of work are you in, Mr Harris?’ Gregg asked.

‘I’m a tram driver.’

‘How long have you been doing that?’

‘About two years now. Before that, I was a bus driver.’

Karen looked at him. ‘Who did you work for?’

‘Walter Scott Travel.’

‘Beside Brian Robertson and Tim Brent. Tim’s a mechanic,’ Harris said.

‘All three of you had a daughter who was abducted. Didn’t you think that was strange?’

‘Of course we did. They thought we were being targeted by somebody, but there was no other connection. One theory bandied about was that it could have been one of the passengers. Or somebody out to get Mike Morton.’ Harris looked at Karen. ‘Seems unlikely now, though, doesn’t it? If he kept Zoe for five years. If it was somebody out for revenge, he would have killed her right away, wouldn’t he?’

‘We can’t speculate at this time. I’m sorry,’ Karen said. But yes, they probably would have.

‘It says in the file that Zoe was in the Brownies,’ Gregg said. ‘Was she in any other clubs?’

‘No. Just the drama club, but that was run through the school.’

‘Who ran the club?’

‘Marshall Mann. Zoe loved staying behind after school for the drama club. They were going to put a play on. I can’t remember what it was now, but she loved it,’ Mrs Harris said.

Karen looked at Gregg. ‘I’ll have a family liaison officer come over and she can make the arrangements for you to go to the mortuary in Dunfermline. Again, I’m so sorry for your loss.’

They left the flat and Karen got Gregg to make the call, then her own phone rang. ‘Christ, not again,’ she said.

Twenty-Three

Alex googled the name Lillian O’Shea, but nothing came up pertaining to her being a police officer. Maybe there was some way of keeping that away from prying eyes. Like hers.

She just couldn’t shake the jealousy off, no matter how hard she tried. Being cooped up in the flat wasn’t helping either, so she had decided to take the matter into her own hands and get out in the fresh air. This whole weekend was ruined because of those girls being found, and she felt like she should be there with Harry, working the case.

She had called Chance and asked him if he could meet her in Inverleith Park, which wasn’t that far away, but in her condition seemed like a walk to the moon.

It was nippy, but the wall separating the sports ground from this lane kept the cold in check. She had brought a hoody just in case. Not that she would be able to get it zipped up with her big bump in front, but it would keep the cold off her.

Alex had always wanted children, but now that her first one was well on the way, she’d begun to doubt herself. How would she juggle motherhood with being a police officer? She could just leave and let Harry take care of her, but what if these jealous feelings didn’t go away and he was working with Lillian O’Shea every day instead of her? She would divorce Harry, as much as she loved him. It was the easier alternative to sitting and thinking about how he was having an affair every day.

She reached the end of the lane, entered the park and walked towards the pond. She could see Chance and Katie with Sparky, Muckle’s big German Shepherd. She liked the big Glaswegian and wondered how his wife felt when he had to leave home for work. Did she get jealous? Probably not. She had her Beagle at home to keep her company, and Muckle was so in love with her that Alex doubted very much that he would stray.

Chance waved, and he and Katie started walking over to Alex. Sparky walked alongside, looking for Chance