In Dark Water (Detective Shona Oliver 1)

‘Yes, it was, and largely due to your planning amendments.’ She smiled. ‘Well done, Murdo.’

‘Ach, no,’ he said with the hint of a blush. Her sergeant’s lack of confidence in his own abilities was something Shona was determined to work on. ‘Anyways, all safely gathered in, that’s the main thing.’ Murdo continued, ‘The fiscal reckons as known faces they’ll go before the Sheriff tomorrow and if we can link them to the drugs behind the wall they’ll be remanded.’

One of the civilian data processors, a slight middle-aged woman with the air of a librarian, was hovering at the door.

‘All right there, Amanda? Is it me you’re after?’ Murdo asked.

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Amanda said nervously to Shona. ‘it’s just… the bracelet.’ Both detectives looked at her blankly until she held up a printed out photograph of a young blonde woman who had one hand raised, brushing the hair back from her face. On her wrist was a silver bracelet stamped with the overlapping hearts of Luckenbooth design. ‘You mentioned it the other day, Murdo.’

Murdo took the photograph. ‘Where did you find this?’

‘I’ve been going through the social media of the suspects picked up by Op Fortress this morning, like you asked, Murdo,’ said Amanda shyly. ‘Searching for links, pictures of them together, you know. This was on a Facebook page belonging to a James Buckland.’

‘You wee belter, Amanda,’ said Murdo, beaming at the woman, whose face was rosy with pleasure. He turned to his boss. ‘Think that could be our girl?’

Shona pulled up the electronic file of the forensic report. She held the two pictures side by side. ‘What do you think, Amanda?’ asked Shona.

‘Yes,’ she said seriously. ‘I believe it’s the same bracelet. I couldn’t say if it’s the same woman wearing it.’ She averted her eyes from the post-mortem photographs on the screen. ‘The girl’s not tagged or listed as a friend, so I couldn’t trace her, but if you look at the detail of the bracelet, at the crown.’ Amanda took the mouse from Shona and highlighted an area of the bracelet on screen, blowing it up. ‘There’s an identical flattened point and scratch on both pictures, where it’s been damaged. I think it has to be the same bracelet.’

‘I think you’re right, Amanda,’ Shona said. ‘Murdo, we need to have a chat with this James Buckland.’

‘Right, ma’am. Buckland wasn’t a primary target; he was at a Dumfries address we raided and had drugs on his person. I’ll see where we are on the clock with him.’

Shona checked her watch. ‘If he was picked up at five a.m. we’re still within the twelve hours. When the custody review is done, if there’s any chance he’ll be released, tell them I’ll give my authority to hold him for another twelve hours, while we investigate this link to a suspicious death.’

‘Okay, will do,’ said Murdo, heading out the door.

‘Amanda, can you get me all the pictures of this woman on Buckland’s account, with dates?’

‘Yes, ma’am, I’ll do that now,’ she said, following Murdo out.

Shona sat down heavily at her desk. She rested her chin on her hands and closed her eyes. Images from the last twenty-four hours played like a newsreel on the inside of her eyelids. The dead woman on the dissection table; Jax and her expression of defiant defeat when she knew she’d lose her daughter; flashes of the frightened face of the suicidal man on the bridge. Already the brittle lift from the coffee was speeding through her system. It would keep her going for an hour or so, but the double dip of sleep deprivation and caffeine ebb could affect her judgement and she needed to get this right. She needed some fresh air, but she could feel herself drifting towards sleep.

Her phone rang. Her head jerked upright, the muscles in her shoulders clenching in protest. She was about to decline the call when Dan Ridley’s name flashed on the screen.

‘I’ve been to see Nathan Jones’s wife,’ he said. ‘Cops visited the house before, but only because she was battering him.’ There was a pause. ‘You still there, ma’am?’

‘Yeah, sorry. Go on.’ Shona massaged her neck.

‘Do you think this might have been some form of revenge? That he killed the woman to get back against women in general?’ Dan persisted.

‘It’s possible, I suppose, but we can’t connect them, and Jones has come up clean here, no history of violence.’ Shona saw Murdo at his desk put down his phone and give her the nod. The interview with Buckland was on. ‘But listen,’ Shona said to Dan, ‘I’ve a possible lead on the jewellery. Come over tomorrow, I’ll update you.’

‘Great,’ Dan replied. ‘And I might have something for you too. I’ve been handed a bit of paperwork.’ Shona thought it was more likely that a mountain of low grade files had been unceremoniously dumped on his desk courtesy of DCI Lambert. ‘There’s a mention of shop thefts involving baby milk,’ he continued. ‘I’ve asked the tech guys for any CCTV, I’ll bring it over.’

‘Good,’ said Shona. If nothing else it would give Dan a legitimate reason to be in Dumfries if his boss got arsy about him pursuing the ID of the girl. ‘Tomorrow it is.’ She ended the call and stood up, tucking her blouse back into her waistband, shaking herself awake. She’d had two hours’ rest in the last twenty-four, but she welcomed the pain, the tiredness. This was what hard graft felt like, and hard graft was how you got results.

Chapter 10

Jamie Buckland was in his early twenties but looked younger. Somewhere in his childhood all potential for growth and ripe maturity had been snuffed out. Scrawny and thin faced, Shona could see him becoming the kind of frail elderly man who shuffled between betting shop and boozer. That’s if he made it to old age, which was by no means certain. She suspected he was a user and small-time dealer and there were a dozen beartraps waiting for someone in his line of work.

He sat opposite Shona and Murdo, the restless rhythm of his right leg a staccato beat on the vinyl floor of the interview room. Shown the blonde girl’s photograph from his Facebook page, he denied he knew her. He did some casual bar work. She was just a girl he’d met there, or on a night out, he shrugged. No one he could put a name to. Murdo produced three other pictures taken at intervals over a few months showing Buckland with the girl. Caught out, he retreated into a no-comment interview. When Shona revealed this was a potential murder inquiry and he should have a chat with the increasingly nervy duty solicitor next to him, Buckland seemed to enter a state of suspended animation. The agitated tapping of his leg stopped. The muscles of his jaw clenched tight as if guarding aga

inst any outburst. Shona sent him back to his cell to think things over.

By the next morning, with Buckland remaining tight-lipped and no further evidence, Shona was forced to watch him go before the Sheriff on possession of a Class C drug, namely Valium. The amount was too small to charge him with dealing and his guilty plea provoked a ticking-off and he was released on bail to await pre-sentencing reports. Half the suspects Shona’s team had picked up on Operation Fortress’s trawl received the same treatment but the remainder, including Keana’s parents Jax and Hammy, were remanded. It was a better than average result, but when Dan Ridley’s hopeful face appeared at her office door, she felt an edge of disappointment that she had no good news for him.

Dan handed the CCTV from the Cumbrian baby milk theft over to Kate. Shona brought him up to speed on the bracelet photographs over coffee, drunk side by side as they leaned on her office window sill, taking in the view over Dumfries relief road to the umber-tinted trees beyond. He nodded, furrowing his brow and rubbing the stubble of his beard, as he jotted down Jamie Buckland’s details and Carlisle address.