Blood Loss by Kerena Swan (good beach reads .txt) 📕

and, before Mitchell could speak, asked, ‘Have you interviewed Nash’s employer yet about the projects he’s working on?’

Mitchell opened his mouth then closed it again. He shifted his feet. ‘I’ve spoken to him on the phone but I need to go and see him. Will you approve my expenses for the trip?’

‘Okay, so what have you been doing?’

‘We’ve checked CCTV at Glasgow airport and Nash was seen getting into a taxi.’ Mitchell spoke quickly, his face now animated with excitement. ‘We noted the number plate and showed his photograph to the driver. He remembered him because Nash gave him a generous tip and apologised for the short journey. Nash wanted to be dropped at a small hotel in Paisley.’

‘Good work.’ Paton’s stomach fizzed as another clue to the puzzle brought them closer to the suspect. This was what made his job worthwhile. ‘Any CCTV at the hotel?’

‘Sorry, boss. There wasn’t.’

Paton’s smile wavered until he realised Mitchell was grinning. ‘But there’s a car showroom opposite with top notch security that covers the street outside the hotel entrance,’ Mitchell explained. ‘They’ve sent over the recording and Tony has watched most of it. He’s been here all night. The camera caught Nash arriving in the taxi. Tony’s got the recording paused at the bit where Nash is leaving the hotel again. We thought you’d want to see it with us.’

Paton jumped up and hurried into the next office where Tony sat at a computer. He clapped his hand on Tony’s shoulder. ‘Thanks for waiting.’

The three of them stared at the grainy screen as Nash left the hotel and stood by the roadside. He had his phone to his ear.

‘Mitchell, make a note to check the details of all calls made from his PAYG phone at or around…’ Paton leaned forward to read the time on the screen: 19.18. ‘We’ll be able to find out the number of the phone he was calling and all the locations where it’s been used from the cell site analysis.’

Two minutes later, a small silver car pulled up and Nash got in. Bingo! Paton peered at the driver but he or she was invisible behind the glare of the showroom lights reflecting on the car windows. The car number plate wasn’t visible either as the angle of the camera had allowed only a narrow view of the scene, too narrow to record the car’s approach or departure but only it’s momentary presence, sideways to the lens. They groaned in unison and leaned back, disappointed. Tony puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his reddened eyes.

‘Don’t be too disheartened, Tony,’ Paton said. ‘We could see that the car was a silver Fiesta so we can check silver Fiestas on other cameras in the area on the morning of the murder and on the day of this recording. My hunch is that the killer will have been heading for the motorway. The ANPR cameras might give us more. Go home and get some sleep.’

An hour later, Mitchell told Paton he had checked the list of vehicles joining the motorway at the junction closest to the murder scene. There were two silver Fiestas. He made a note of the number plates and owners’ details and handed it to Paton who decided to question the owners himself even though he usually delegated the task. He could do with some time out of the office to think.

Paton enjoyed the drive to the small town of Aberfeldy. The gently sloping hills and trees along the banks of the river Tay soothed his busy mind. He found the row of houses with their brown pebbledash exteriors easily enough, but where were the front doors? He eventually knocked on a door at the back and was greeted by a middle-aged woman with dyed black hair wearing a blue overall with The Home Team embroidered on it. Paton introduced himself and explained his visit.

‘I look after older people in the community,’ she said, after she’d confirmed she owned the car in question. ‘I’d have been travelling from one customer to the next. My employer has an electronic rostering and monitoring system so it can verify where I was.’

The shine of the day dulled a little but Paton thanked her and took the details of her employer to confirm her story.

Paton drove on to the next address and saw a silver car on the drive. The front door was answered by a hairless, small-framed man in a cardigan and leather slippers. When Paton showed his ID card the little man called over his shoulder.

‘Ethel. Get the kettle on, we’ve got company.’ His face was as bright as a sunflower as he invited Paton in. Clearly they didn’t get many visitors. ‘And get the Jaffa Cakes out, love. We’ll have a treat.’

Despite the warm hospitality, Paton couldn’t deny the taste of disappointment as he drove away. Ethel and Ted went everywhere together and both could verify where the other had been that day. Paton knew he was missing something. Think, man, think.

He drove back towards Perth on autopilot. What if the killer had tried to outwit the police and changed direction after they’d driven out of the lane by the lodge? Not got on the motorway at all or at least not at the nearest junction? Paton had a hunch the killer was heading south. Robert Nash spent a lot of time in Manchester in the weeks leading up to his death. Maybe he met a woman there and started an affair.

They needed to check all roads in the vicinity which had cameras, but first Paton was going to tell Mitchell to check the next junction of the motorway.

Chapter 24

March | Sarah

‘What do you think? Lovely, isn’t she?’ Mum’s neighbour, Derek, rubs his hands together and licks his lips, his eyes barely leaving my chest.

He’s such a loser when it comes to women and I suppress a shudder of revulsion as I think about what I’ll have to do later to pay for this car. It’s not