Craig Hunter Books 1-3 Read online

  She clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Look. You caught Ferguson this afternoon, right?’

  ‘If by caught you mean that I had a wrestle in the graveyard as he ran away after battering my knee, then aye.’

  ‘You did well in Buchan’s—’

  ‘Save it.’ Hunter looked away, sighing.

  ‘Ooh, touchy. Right, let’s get this started, then, shall we?’ She pushed through into the interview room, flattening down her hair as she sat.

  Hunter took the chair on the left and set the digital camera recording. He made sure it was synced with the audio, then got out his notebook. ‘Interview commenced at nineteen oh six on Tuesday the eleventh of August 2015. Present are myself, PC Craig Hunter, and Detective Sergeant Chantal Jain.’ He nodded at Doug. ‘Please state your name for the record.’

  Doug snorted. The bare lightbulb shone on his head, shards of light breaking on the grey stubble as on metal shavings. His overalls had disappeared, only to reveal a worn-out pair of paint-stained jeans under his Hibs top. His left shoulder looked packed out with something, right where Hunter had cracked it off a gravestone. ‘Douglas Francis Ferguson.’

  Hunter nodded at the suit next to him. Though expensive, it was in dire need of a good clean. ‘And you are, sir?’

  ‘Hamish Williams of McLintock, Williams & Partners.’ Vacant stare, Brylcreemed white hair, rimless specs. Morningside accent straight out of a fifties radio drama. ‘It’s been five hours since my client’s unlawful arrest, and I would greatly appreciate it if you could see your way to releasing him from custody forthwith.’

  ‘Not going to happen.’ Hunter leaned forward and unzipped his fleece. Still had the vaguest whiff of dog mess. He switched his focus to Doug. ‘Can we just get something clear, first?’

  Williams started blinking furiously, holding his glasses halfway from his face. ‘What?’

  ‘Mr Ferguson’s a painter-decorator, right?’

  ‘That is, indeed, my client’s employment sector.’

  ‘And your firm is one of Scotland’s most prestigious?’

  ‘We have received numerous accolades over the course of our incorporation, correct.’

  ‘So how can he afford your services?’

  ‘I will thank you for respecting the fact that my client’s means of payment are confidential, as are those of all our valued clients.’

  ‘Tell me if I’ve got this right. Extortionate lawyer and private plates on his van – H185 DFF…’

  ‘And? Do please move on, Constable. I would be honoured if we could keep this conversation relevant to the issues at hand.’ Williams put his glasses back on, the lenses catching the full glare of the strip lighting. ‘Why have you got my client here?’

  ‘We received some serious accusations levelled at Mr Ferguson and we’d appreciate some answers.’ Hunter switched his focus to Doug. ‘Mr Ferguson, can you take us through what happened at lunchtime today, please?’

  ‘You assaulted me.’

  ‘Mr Ferguson, you resisted my attempts to detain you under Section 21 of the Criminal Procedure Scotland Act.’ Hunter’s ears were burning. His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper — a smirk ghosted across Jain’s lips. ‘I’m referring to what Section 21 pertains to.’

  Doug glanced at his lawyer. ‘Do I have to talk here, Hamish?’

  Williams tilted his head to counsel his client in private.

  ‘Right, so it’ll not harm my case?’ Doug let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. ‘What can I say? I’d been on a job just down in Leith so I headed home for some lunch. Thought I’d maybe catch a bit of the golf on Sky.’ His tongue was rooting around between his teeth. ‘So, anyway, I get in and Steph’s in the living room, watching that bloody music channel. The one with all the shouting and that. Mosher music.’

  ‘Did you speak to her?’

  ‘Asked her if she wanted anything to eat, but she ran off to her room.’

  ‘She didn’t say anything?’

  ‘Nothing at all.’ Doug shifted his pinky nail to fiddle with his teeth. ‘Thought she was just being surly. She’s a teenager, right?’ He finally struck gold and pulled his finger out of his mouth to inspect the yellowish muck. He flicked it on the table between them. ‘So, anyway, I went to the kitchen and started making a sandwich. Had all the stuff out on the bunker when I heard her mother coming in. She dumped her bag down and gave me a kiss. Then she went to check on Steph.’

  ‘She knew Stephanie was in?’

  ‘I told her the lassie was acting funny.’

  ‘You didn’t know why?’

  ‘Look, next thing I know, Pauline’s in my face, shouting at us, telling us to go in the garden.’

  Jain leaned forward, head tilted at a slight angle. ‘And did you?’

  Doug rubbed at his neck, the purple bruise like some footballer’s tribal tattoo. ‘Like I had a choice.’

  ‘Wait a sec.’ Hunter raised a hand to stop Jain. ‘You weren’t shouting through the door at Stephanie?’

  ‘Eh, what?’ Doug frowned at his lawyer, then at Hunter. ‘Course I wasn’t.’

  ‘Sure about that?’

  Doug rested on his elbows. His arm hair was like steel wool wrapped around kettle drums. ‘Has my wife been telling lies about me?’

  ‘Mrs Ferguson stated that you were shouting through the door at Stephanie.’

  ‘Well, that’s bollocks.’

  ‘Sure about that?’ Jain got up and walked around the table, then stuck her head between Doug and his lawyer so she could whisper to both of them at once. ‘We’ve got two different stories here.’

  ‘Aye? Usually the difference means one’s a pack of lies, princess. And I’m no—’

  ‘Detective Sergeant, please.’

  ‘Whatever. I’m not a liar, all right?’ Doug clenched his fists, thumbs squeezing forefingers. ‘Anyway, I was out in the garden, wondering what the hell’s going on. Next thing I know, Pauline’s at the back door, locking the bloody thing. Started shouting the odds at us, saying Steph’s told her I’ve been abusing her.’

  ‘And I take it you have been, yes?’

  ‘Eh?’ Doug thumped the desk and swung his head round to glare at Jain. ‘Christ’s sake. I’m not a paedo. I raised that girl as my own. I’ve done nothing to her.’

  ‘That’s a different story to what we’ve heard from her.’

  ‘She’s a lying wee bit—’

  ‘My client requests you recant the allegations made by his stepdaughter.’

  ‘Not going to happen.’

  Williams waved a hand around the grotty interview room. ‘I’m afraid she’s not here to provide a sufficiently detailed statement. You know you’ll be unable to get anywhere near charging my client, let alone a conviction.’

  ‘Your client’s been abusing that girl for the best part of two years.’ Jain moved to within an inch of Williams’s ear. ‘He’s going to answer for that.’

  ‘And the courts of this great land deal in evidence, Sergeant. Not lies and hearsay.’

  Jain stood up tall and walked over to the corner behind Doug’s sore shoulder. ‘Mr Ferguson, do you understand the seriousness of the accusations levelled against you?’

  ‘Look, I didn’t do anything!’

  ‘But you understand?’

  ‘Christ, aye. Course I do. Think I’m a monk—’

  ‘Have you ever had anything that could be construed as sexual contact with Stephanie?’

  ‘Eh?’ Doug looked like he was about to reach out and throttle her. ‘No bloody way.’

  ‘How much physical contact have you had with Ms Ferguson since you’ve been her stepfather?’

  ‘Look, I’m not the most hands-on guy, right? But if she wants a hug, I’ll give her one.’

  ‘So you were close?’

  ‘She’s my daughter. End of, far as I’m concerned.’ Doug gave a shrug, the Hibs shirt crumpling as he raised his bony shoulders. He glanced behind at Jain, then winced and started rubbing his shoulder. ‘She treats me like I was her dad.�
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  ‘But you abused her?’

  ‘She’s my daughter, for crying out loud. I’d never hurt her in any way. I love that girl.’

  Williams raised a palm like he was stopping traffic in the street. ‘My client merely means a paternal love.’

  ‘I’m sure he does…’ She leaned in close to Doug, this time on the other side from Williams. ‘But you’ve been abusing her since she was fourteen, haven’t you?’

  Doug got up and swung round, fists clenched like a boxer, hovering in front of his face. ‘Stop this, you wee Pa—’

  ‘Or? Or you’ll hit me? Like you hit your wife?’

  ‘Shut up.’ Doug looked ready to lash out at her. ‘Shut up!’

  ‘Come on. Show me how hard you are.’

  Doug drove his forehead towards hers, then froze and slowly looked her up and down. A breathless moment later he whispered something and slumped back in his chair, smiling to himself.

  Now Jain looked ready to kill.

  Hunter raised his hands at Jain and mouthed: ‘Calm down.’

  She sat back in her chair and forced herself to look at the lawyer. ‘Mr Williams, you should know that I work in the Sexual Offences Unit. We’re investigating this as a Category 2 case of grooming and a Category 1 case of Intercourse with Step-Child. Further investigation will be undertaken to determine whether the abuse commenced prior to Stephanie turning sixteen. We will charge your client accordingly.’

  ‘I appreciate the courtesy, Sergeant, but he is innocent of all charges.’

  ‘Christ’s sake.’ Doug stabbed a finger across the desk at them. ‘What about Steph’s boyfriend, eh? That pretentious wee shite. You should be speaking to him.’

  ‘We’ve already spoken—’

  ‘Ken how old the boy is? Do you?’

  ‘We know—’

  ‘Twenty-seven!’ Doug shook his head, nostrils bared in a snarl. ‘Steph’s sixteen. How can he live with himself? Shagging a wee lassie like that.’

  Hunter turned back a page and etched a couple of asterisks next to Neil Alexander. ‘As I say, we’ve been in touch with Mr Alexander.’

  ‘And have you charged him with anything?’

  ‘We’ve nothing to suggest there’s anything to charge him with. Have you?’

  ‘You think him shagging a sixteen-year-old is right?’

  ‘Whether I think it’s right or wrong is immaterial. It’s within the law. If indeed he was having intercourse with Stephanie.’

  ‘Course he bloody was.’ Doug shut his eyes, his forehead creasing up like the ridges on a Cornish pasty. ‘That boy was dipping his wick way before he should’ve been, if you catch my drift.’

  Hunter sighed and started drumming on the table. ‘And you’ve got evidence to support this?’

  ‘Not as such—’

  ‘Used condoms? Video? Photographs? A witness statement you’d be willing to defend in court?’

  Doug jabbed a finger like a featherweight boxer throwing a punch. ‘He’s got my lassie on the Jack ’n’ Jill.’

  ‘You mean the contraceptive pill?’

  ‘Aye! She’s sixteen!’

  ‘Which is the legal age of consent in this country.’ Jain ran a hand down the open pages of her notebook. ‘Whereas we have allegations of rape regarding yourself going back way before Stephanie could legally consent. And even if she could, it’s still an offence.’

  ‘This is a load of shite!’

  ‘Stephanie’s your stepdaughter. It’s a crime for you to have a sexual relationship with her before the age of twenty-one.’

  ‘There is no— Was no— Look, I’ve not shagged that lassie!’

  ‘Mr Ferguson.’ Hunter let him fester for a few seconds, the anger rising as his eyes narrowed. ‘Have you got anything to support these allegations regarding Mr Alexander having sex with Stephanie before the age of sixteen?’

  ‘No, I haven’t. But he was—’

  ‘Who was scoping out your house, then?’

  ‘Eh?’

  ‘We visited there this evening.’ Hunter gestured at himself and Jain. ‘There was a man in the garden.’

  ‘Did he look like Neil Alexander, by any chance?’

  ‘No, he didn’t. Not in the slightest. He was shorter than you.’

  ‘Why do you think he’s got anything to do with me?’

  Jain motioned for Hunter to take over.

  ‘Because Stephanie ran away from the hospital this afternoon.’

  ‘What?’ Doug swallowed hard. ‘You serious?’ He looked at Williams, then at Hunter. ‘Christ on a bike, how the hell could you clowns let that happen? That’s my wee lassie!’

  ‘We’re doing everything we can to find her, but I’m afraid we have reason to believe her life is in danger. Do you know who this man at your house was?’

  ‘Do I fu—’ Doug caught himself and stopped. He leaned over to his lawyer and whispered.

  Williams beamed at Jain. ‘Could you give us a second, please?’

  Doug’s voice droned through the door into the empty corridor, but the timber sucked in both the words and their meaning.

  Hunter put his ear to the door. Still sounded like it was underwater.

  How could he? His own daughter. Dirty bastard. Not On Normal Courtyard Exercise, indeed. Just wait till some hairy-arsed murderer gets his hands on Doug’s skinny—

  A hand grasped his left bicep. ‘You okay?’

  Hunter nodded at Jain, blinking in the dim light of the corridor. ‘This makes me sick to the stomach.’

  ‘You’re not alone.’ Jain’s cappuccino skin looked a few shades paler, not all of it from the strip lighting. ‘You seriously think he’s done this?’

  ‘Fits the pattern, doesn’t it? Mother with young daughter, that nonce moves in, waits a few years, knows all the patterns, then bang, she’s got no choice.’

  Jain raised a shoulder and exhaled. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘You don’t think so?’

  ‘I just hope he’s working out a deal with that lawyer of his.’

  ‘I’ve kind of missed this, you know? The long hours of the detective. Feeling like you’re scratching deeper than the surface.’

  ‘I see a lot of this shit in the SO unit, day in, day out.’ Jain rested against the wall, rubbing her arms. ‘Makes you want to save cats from trees.’

  Hardly. At least I’m working a more meaningful case now… Sickening as it is…

  Hunter grimaced at the image of Stephanie running away down the hospital corridor.

  Maybe saving cats from trees wasn’t so bad after all…

  ‘Hello? Someone Home? Craig!’

  ‘Sorry. I was miles away there. Anyway, what did Doug whisper to you?’

  ‘Nothing I haven’t heard a hundred times before.’ She stared up at the ceiling. ‘Called me a frigid… well, it begins with P and rhymes with baccy.’

  ‘You serious?’ Hunter put his hands on the door. ‘I’m going to batter him.’

  ‘He was smart enough to do it without any witnesses.’ Jain grabbed Hunter’s shoulder. ‘If you—’

  The door jolted open and Williams stared at them. ‘Douglas is ready to recommence the interview.’

  Hunter barged past him and started the machine running again. Couldn’t bring himself to focus on the racist scumbag.

  A slight lag on the audio, but he wasn’t going to be able to fix it without some chump in sandals and a polo neck patronising him.

  ‘Interview recommenced at nineteen twenty-six.’ Hunter held out a hand to Doug, palm facing up. ‘I believe you’ve got something you wish to say? An apology, I assume?’

  ‘Fuck no.’ Doug sniffed, lopsided and bitter. ‘You know about what happened with her father?’

  ‘Her natural father?’ Jain looked as puzzled as Hunter felt. ‘He died when Stephanie was eight.’

  Doug tilted his head to the side, his forehead creasing. ‘Where’d you get that from?’

  Hunter’s stomach lurched. He tried to clear his throat, but a lump just stu
ck there. ‘Stephanie’s mother told us.’ Sounded like he’d swallowed a frog.

  ‘Christ. She never stops lying, does she?’

  Another cough and it was still there. ‘Explain.’

  ‘Prick’s called Robert Quarrie. Proper sick bastard.’ Doug bared his teeth. ‘Don’t know the ins and outs of—’ He scowled and banged the desk, sending vibrations through the wood. ‘Shite. Look, he was abusing her when she was really young.’

  ‘Oh really?’ Jain rolled her eyes. ‘You expect us to believe that, do you?’

  ‘It’s the God’s honest truth.’ Doug clenched his fists again, ready to hit more than furniture next time. ‘Pauline didn’t like to talk to me about it. Kept blaming herself for what happened. You need to ask her.’

  Jain looked over at Hunter. ‘This feels like a diversion, Constable, what do you think?’

  ‘Definitely, Sarge. I’m not sure I—’

  ‘You pair know something?’ Doug’s mouth hung open, his tongue darting around his yellow teeth. ‘The day the boy got out of prison, September fifteenth, 2012, I drove up there. The one by Alloa. Glenochil or something. Waited outside in the van and gave the boy a lift down to Stirling. Dropped him at the bus station and stuck twenty quid in his dirty fingers. I told that sex pest to keep away from Steph and Pauline. Said if I ever saw or heard from him again I’d batter the living daylights out of him. Me and the boys wouldn’t even leave a trace.’

  Hunter sat back and let the echoes die in the small room. Seemed like a sack of balls. ‘Any proof of this?’

  A shifty look at his lawyer. ‘You might be able to check the van’s SatNav.’

  ‘Witnesses would be better.’ Hunter cracked his watch off the table as he crossed his arms. ‘Are there any?’

  ‘Not that I can think of.’ Doug had another whisper in the lawyer’s ear, then rubbed his nose. ‘Listen, that prick was lucky he didn’t end up in a ditch off the A9, you know what I’m saying? Beasting a wee lassie like that. His own daughter. She was eight! He’s lucky to be alive, man, I’m telling you. I’ve got all my work tools in the back of the van. Chisels and pliers and hammers. Should’ve done it, you know? Should’ve sawed his balls off. Stuck his—’

  ‘Douglas…’ Williams reached a hand over to cover his client’s mouth. ‘That’s quite enough.’