Chapter 11: That night: Getting more evidence

CHAPTER 11

EILIDH

THAT NIGHT – GETTING MORE EVIDENCE

W hen I arrived at Roy's house, I handed Aunt Maisie the bottle of gin. It was only 8 p.m. but I could smell from her breath that she had already started drinking. There wasn't much left in the wine bottle sitting on the kitchen worktop, it looked like she'd had at least three glasses before I'd arrived.

Good . The sooner she got drunk, the sooner I could have a good look around.

"Thanks, honey," she said, smiling at me when I topped up her glass.

She quickly grabbed it and took several large gulps, and I realised her drinking had got worse lately.

Aunt Maisie was usually a happy drunk, but as I watched her dish out our dinner, I couldn't help noticing that she seemed more subdued than normal. Observing her closely, I wondered if she knew about Roy or suspected his criminal activities. Could that be the cause of her drinking? It was certainly a possibility.

Roy had never been short of money over the years, but Maisie had received a large inheritance from her dad when he passed away. Any large purchases were always explained away as coming from that source. However, what if that was not the case? Then Maisie would surely have at least wondered where Roy got the money. Right?

Was she suspicious? Or totally oblivious? Or worse, was she, in fact, aware and complicit in his actions?

Staring intensely at her, I twisted my lips as I pondered the situation.

She noticed.

"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Yes. I was just wondering how you made your lasagne, and if you'd teach me sometime?" I said quickly to cover my real thoughts.

"Sure, I will, sweetie. Next time you come over, come early, and we'll make it together," she replied, beaming at me.

"Great," I said, avoiding her eyes as a sense of shame washed over me.

Maisie might have her flaws, but she was kind and always happy to help. She'd been good to me and my dad over the years. Despite her heavy drinking, she was a good person. Too good to have been complicit in Roy's actions. She couldn't know.

Another pang of guilt assaulted me, making me feel nauseous as it finally dawned on me that my investigations were going to have a severe impact on Maisie and the rest of her family.

How would she feel when she found out that Roy was corrupt and that he had killed my dad? It could break her. Their sons were successful businessmen now, too. I'd no idea what a scandal involving their dad would do to them.

Damn, Roy! How could he do this to us all? Anger replaced my guilt as I thought of the man we'd all loved and how he'd betrayed us. It was his fault, and he needed to pay for everything he'd done. Bringing Roy to justice was the right thing to do and I would do it, no matter the consequences. I couldn't let any feelings of remorse get in the way.

Pushing aside the lingering guilt, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Getting the evidence that I was here for was crucial to my plans and so I refilled Maisie's glass and forced myself to make small talk with her as we ate dinner.

Even when she was under the influence of alcohol, Maisie was a superb cook. Dad and I used to love coming over for dinner when I was growing up. However, on this occasion, every bite of food I took tasted like ash in my mouth. But I shovelled it in, chewed and swallowed regardless as we talked.

When her wine was finished, I plied her with gin and tonic while I pretended to sip my glass of wine. She never noticed that I hugged the same glass throughout the meal, never topping it up.

As we filled the dishwasher, she put on some music, and we laughed and danced. She was back to her usual self again, and it was nice to see, but my heart clenched when I considered the possibility that this might be the last time I spent in her company like this.

When everything was finally revealed and Roy went to prison as I intended he would, things would be different between us. I just hoped that when I turned her life upside down, she could forgive me.

My guilt was back, and as the evening wore on, my nerves felt frayed. Eventually, having finally had enough and barely able to stand, she retired for the night.

"Night, sweetie," she slurred as I helped her remove her shoes and climb into bed.

Maisie assumed I was staying over in the guest room, like I often did when I came to visit. However, I had no intention of sleeping in Roy's house ever again. The mere thought of it made my stomach churn. Nevertheless, I didn't tell her that.

A short while later, when Maisie's light snores told me she was fast asleep, I snuck into Roy's office.

After a quick look through his desk, where I found nothing, I moved to his safe. I knew he had one as I'd seen it before, and thanks to Joe, I knew exactly what I needed to break into it. Opening my backpack, I took out the little electronic device and got to work. It unlocked with a click, and I grinned.

Who knew illegal stuff could be so much fun? Well, I guess the criminals did! I chuckled at my thoughts , then quickly sobered up when I saw what was inside . Not a game, Eilidh! I reminded myself sternly .

The safe wasn't any larger than the one Mathieson had in his office, but I couldn't believe how full it was. It was literally crammed with big brown envelopes, a notebook, a smaller lock box, and a small black holdall full of cash. Shit!

As usual, I took some photos on my phone and then started removing the items. This was going to take a while. Thank God that Maisie was asleep, and Roy was out of town.

Each envelope had a name on the front. Inside were details of the person named and a lot of photographs, showing the person in compromising situations. It seemed like Roy was using the contents of the envelopes to blackmail these people. I went through all the names, which I noted were in alphabetical order. Geez, he was an organised blackmailer.

There were several names I recognised, including two judges, some lawyers, a few businessmen and a reporter. There were also files on the other three officers from my shift. Why would he be blackmailing them? Or maybe he wasn't. Yet. Maybe some of them were being kept just in case he needed to use them in the future? It was hard to say.

Shaking my head in disgust, I wondered just how long Roy had been collecting all of this stuff. His entire career, by the look of things. He was due to retire soon. I guessed this was his nest egg.

My stomach churned and my dinner threatened to make a comeback as I took in the evidence of his corruption. I'd convinced myself that Roy was simply a bent cop being paid to do someone else's dirty work. A small fish in a big pond.

However, as I looked at the contents of his safe, I knew without a doubt that I'd been wrong. Roy was no small fish; he was a shark!

There was no way I was going to have time to take photos of everything. So, I decided to just snap photos of the envelopes and some of their contents inside and leave the rest. That would surely be enough.

When the safe was empty, I settled on the floor beside my haul and hesitated, staring at the envelopes.

Did I really want to see all the shit these people got up to? Did I really want to learn their secrets? Because once I knew them, it wasn't like I could forget them.

Fortifying my resolve, I opened the first envelope.

There was no choice. No matter what dirty little secrets were revealed, I had to know. This was evidence, and I was a detective.

All of this would be found during the official investigation at some point, anyway. As soon as I could find someone to trust enough with this information. After that, the secrets would be out in the open and it would be up to the police officers involved to deal with them.

Almost an hour later, I cracked my neck to release the tension and rubbed at the bridge of my nose. A headache was coming on. I needed to finish up soon and get out of here. There was just one more envelope, Aiden Mathieson's, which I'd saved for last.

Opening it up, I poured everything out onto the floor. The first photograph that fell out showed Aiden Mathieson kissing my dad's murderer.

I froze and stared at it.

Timmy Neilson was obviously not just a hired killer, as I had first assumed. He was Mathieson's lover!

Revulsion coursed through my veins as I went through the rest of the photos, which showed the pair snorting coke, drinking, and having sex together or indulging in orgies. They were all pretty graphic, but that wasn't the issue for me. What sickened me was that these were the men responsible for my dad's murder. I hated they were out partying and having fun after what they had done. It wasn't right.

Bile rose in my throat, and I gulped it back, grimacing, as I looked at the last couple of pictures. Dear god. Mathieson had killed his lover. Why?

And how did Roy get these photographs?

I shook my head. It didn't matter. Roy was hiding evidence linked to an ongoing murder enquiry. Mathieson was walking around a free man because of him. Roy really was a bastard.

After stuffing the photographs back into the envelope, I returned it to the safe, just as I'd done with all the others when I'd finished with them.

Stretching my body was a relief. Between the sitting and the tension in my bones, I was bloody stiff. I was nearly finished, though. Only the lockbox needed to be checked.

Inside, just like with Mathieson and Martin, there were several passports with false names. I noted there was none for Aunt Maisie, but there was one for a woman I hadn't seen before. A young woman about my age who looked a hell of a lot like me, in fact. Chills went down my spine as I stared at her image.

Poor Aunt Maisie, it looked like the bastard was cheating on her. The similarity to me, though, was uncanny and made me uneasy. Why did she look so like me?

It didn't matter, I'd had enough. It was time to go.

Pleased with my findings, I closed the box, put it back in the safe and then checked the picture I'd taken at the beginning to ensure everything was back in its proper order. With how organised it had been, it was likely Roy would notice if the slightest thing was out of place.

Satisfied that everything looked as it should, I closed it up and headed for the door.

Peeking into Aunt Maisie's room again, I checked she was still sleeping peacefully and left a note to say I'd got up early as I had to meet a friend. That way, she wouldn't be concerned when I wasn't there in the morning. Setting it on the table next to her bed, I slipped silently out of the house.

It was the early hours of the morning and tiredness seeped into my bones as I climbed into my car. The tension of the evening and the revelations uncovered in those envelopes had me exhausted.

As I pulled out of Roy's street, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and goosebumps broke out on my skin. It felt like I was being watched. Checking my rear-view mirror, I sighed in relief. I was just being stupid. The roads were empty. It was just my imagination working overtime. There was nobody there.

Dismissing my concerns as paranoia, I turned my attention to who the heck I could trust with all the information I had gathered.

Roy's boss, Detective Chief Superintendent Mathews, came to mind. He was the overall boss of the department, but I didn't know how high the corruption went. Surely not that high?

But what if I was wrong?

It might be better going to COPFS instead. COPFS, formally known as the Crown Office and Procurator Fiscal Service, was the body that investigated allegations of corruption in Police Scotland. They'd be the best people to take my evidence to. However, after seeing so many files on people from that department, I'd need to ensure it didn't go to one of them.

First thing in the morning, I'd start looking into the members of that department for someone that could be trusted.

With that decision made, I pulled into my driveway and parked.

As I climbed out, the overwhelming sensation of being watched returned. My skin prickled, and I shivered.

Spinning around, I froze and held my breath as I scanned the street, looking for the source of my unease.

Nothing moved. Utter silence filled the air, but I remained stock still, waiting just in case. Seconds stretched out and when there was still no sound or movement, I let out a slow breath and shook my head. I was definitely becoming paranoid.

This investigation was taking its toll on me. The quicker I found someone to get my evidence to, the better. It was time to get some sleep. I obviously needed it. My nerves were frayed.