Against the Clock, John Carson [digital ebook reader txt] 📗

think you could watch the language?’ the old man said.

‘Sorry, boss. I didn’t realise you were earwigging.’

‘We are not earwigging, to use your parlance, but you have a voice that carries like a foghorn.’

‘That’s a fucking compliment,’ Stewart said to Dunbar.

‘Oh dear,’ the woman said, tilting her head back as her face turned red.

‘Look what you’ve done, you oaf!’ the man said, standing up and fanning his wife with a cloth napkin. ‘She’s having a flush.’

‘You should maybe leave her alone at night then, pal. Gie her a wee rest.’

‘Filthy swine.’

Evans came back as the old man got perilously close to the table. ‘Sir, we’re police officers. Maybe just ease up a bit there. It’s not worth it. Pretend you’re deaf for half an hour.’

The man looked at Evans. ‘Okay. But tell your sergeant there to tone it down.’

‘I will.’ Evans set two mugs of coffee down. ‘The old man there said to tell you to tone it down,’ he said to Stewart, smirking. ‘Sergeant.’

‘Well, since you’re the boss, you can run the investigation. Jimmy and I will be going fishing today instead.’

Evans went back for cereal.

‘The only fish I like are wrapped in newspapers,’ Dunbar said. He got up and chose a little box of cereal, then sat back at the table.

‘Right, we should get along to that bus garage early. Then we can talk to that Marshall Mann wanker,’ Stewart said.

‘Oh dear,’ the old woman said.

The waitress came with Stewart’s breakfast.

‘Magic, sweetheart. Extra tattie scones. You’re a star.’ He slipped a twenty under the milk jug.

Evans sat down with a box of Rice Krispies.

‘You eat like a wee lassie,’ Stewart said. ‘Hard to believe you’re such a fat bastard when you eat stuff like that.’

Evans wasn’t quite as skinny as Jimmy Dunbar, but he was nowhere on the road to being fat.

‘I’m only big where it counts,’ Evans retorted.

‘Aye, yer heid.’

Harry walked into the dining room and approached the table.

‘Would you like a full Scottish, sir?’ the waitress said.

‘Oh, I’m not staying here. I’m just here for my colleagues. I can wait outside.’

‘Bollocks,’ Stewart said. ‘You hungry?’

‘A bit,’ Harry said, feeling his stomach grumble when he saw the food.

Stewart took out another twenty. ‘That’s for you, sweetheart. Stick the extra breakfast on my bill, if you don’t mind.’

The older woman smiled. ‘Right away, sir.’

‘Grab a coffee, son,’ Stewart said as the waitress scuttled away. ‘We were talking about that clarty bastard Mann. Having wee lassies on his bus. I’d like to see his background. I know he’s a teacher and a bus driver, but surely there’s a chink in the armour somewhere?’

‘Just because he passed the background checks, doesn’t mean to say he isn’t a dirty bastard,’ Dunbar said.

A couple of minutes later, the waitress returned with Harry’s food.

‘Thanks, love,’ Stewart said. He pulled the twenties from under the milk jug and handed them to her. ‘Take that now. There are a couple of dodgy customers here,’ he said, nodding sideways to the old couple.

‘Cheers for this,’ Harry said. ‘Alex burnt my toast.’

‘Nae bother, pal. But what do you reckon to this ghost bollocks Dougal Dixon was talking about?’

‘He didn’t seem to be the sort who would make up weird stories, don’t you think?’ Harry said.

Stewart poked a fork in the air between bites. ‘I’ve seen them all, Harry, but I think you’re right. I don’t want us asking this Mike Morton about it, though. Might put him on his guard.’ More tattie scones.

They sat and bandied ideas about until Stewart and Harry had finished their breakfast, then Stewart went back up to his room to brush his teeth. Harry took his phone out and turned the camera on, checked there was nothing stuck between his own teeth and popped a Tic Tac.

‘Christ, he’s larger than life, eh?’ Harry said about Stewart.

‘He is,’ said Dunbar. ‘Upstairs would have had him booted out a long time ago if he wasn’t known as Teflon. Untouchable.’

‘How come?’

‘He took a bullet for two kids. Bank robbery. He stepped in front of them as stray bullets started flying and he took two. Saved the lives of the bairns. He’s a hero.’

Thirty-Two

The team were already gathered in the incident room. Frank Miller was sitting beside Eve Bell, looking at something on the computer.

‘Morning, sir,’ Miller said to Stewart.

‘How’s things?’

‘Fine, sir. We’ve been doing background checks on all of the staff at Walter Scott Travel.’

‘Make for interesting reading?’

‘Actually, it does.’ Miller stood up and addressed Stewart and the others. ‘Mike Morton had a complaint against him when he worked as a bus driver, before starting his own company. A woman was drunk and had fallen asleep on the top deck. Morton said he went to shake her by the arms and then she woke up, confused and unsure of where she was. She said he had his hand on her boob and was touching her. She started screaming, and he went and called for backup. When the police got there, she was outside, puking. She made a formal complaint, but the fiscal threw it out, saying there was no evidence, Morton had a clean record and the woman had also accused a taxi driver of the same thing.’

‘What happened in that case?’ Harry asked.

‘The taxi driver had cameras inside his taxi and kept them running when he saw she was drunk in the back. He didn’t leave his seat and called for the police. When they got there, she accused the cabbie of assault, but he showed them his camera footage. A report was sent to the fiscal, but no further action was taken when she saw the footage. It makes you wonder about Morton, though. Considering that two girls went missing.’

‘Aye, we’re going along to the bus company to have another word with him. How did the checks come back for the other drivers?’

‘Clean, sir.’

‘Including Dougal Dixon?’

‘Including him. Clean as a whistle.’

‘What about Marshall Mann?’ Dunbar asked.

‘He’s been suspended from school,’ Miller said.

‘Oh, aye?’ Stewart took a step towards the computer. ‘What did