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

‘There’s been a claim that he and a seventeen-year-old girl were meeting up after school. Rumours. There’s nothing to substantiate it, but they’ve put him on administrative leave in the meantime. The girl is denying it, but she was friends with Ashley Kirby, the missing teenager.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Harry said. ‘Ashley and Simone didn’t go to Mann’s school. He teaches at North Merchiston.’

‘Did. He transferred to Ashley and Simone’s school two months ago. They were needing a teacher, he applied because he specialises in English, and he got the job. He was suspended three weeks ago.’

Harry looked at Miller. ‘Let’s say he goes there two months ago, and he’s been driving the buses part time with Walter Scott for the past, what, five years? He could have known those girls and known they took the school bus. He could have driven them home. Eve, can you check and see if they had him as a teacher?’

‘Right away.’ Eve Bell got on her computer, looked up the number for the school and called the number.

‘If they did,’ said Harry, ‘then they wouldn’t have seen him as a threat. Even if he was suspended, his brother-in-law, Morton, has still been letting him drive. Being suspended from teaching doesn’t affect Mann’s part-time job.’

Eve hung up and looked at them. ‘He was their English teacher.’

‘Thank you,’ Harry said. ‘Let’s say he was put on the school run, or asked for it, and he was their driver and they sat and chatted with him. The other kids wouldn’t have suspected anything, because maybe the other drivers were chatty. I mean, just being friendly without being pervy. But what if Mann found out the girls were going to the Gyle Centre that Saturday, or even arranged to meet them there? He would have known his upcoming bus schedule, and maybe he saw an opportunity.’

‘Let’s get along there,’ Stewart said. ‘Miller, stay here and coordinate things at this end. Lily, come with us.’

They left the station.

Thirty-Three

Stewart, Dunbar and Evans took the unmarked car, which still smelled of KFC, and Harry drove Alex’s Audi, Lillian in the passenger seat. Two patrol cars followed.

‘Your wife has good taste in cars,’ she said.

‘But not in men, apparently,’ Harry replied, following the unmarked car, in which Robbie was doing his best to keep to the speed limit. ‘I’m the man who knocked her up, so I’m the cause of all her pain, real and imaginary.’

‘Oh, that’s not nice, sir. She’s pregnant. You men have the easy part.’

‘I feel this conversation is going downhill, so I shall attempt to divert it onto something else.’

‘Pet Sematary. The movie based on the Stephen King book. Original or remake?’ Lillian said.

‘Original. You?’

‘The remake was good and scary, but I remember being scared by the original. It was so creepy.’

‘Agreed. Not that I was scared, you understand,’ Harry said, not wanting his manhood brought into question.

‘Of course not.’

‘Alex loves all those scary movies. Me? I prefer a good thriller.’

They chatted about books and TV shows until they were driving along Turnhouse Road towards the business park. They saw a couple of buses on the left as they crossed over the railway bridge that carried them over the Fife line.

The unmarked car slowed down, turned into the business park and stopped for a second, presumably for Dunbar to give Evans directions or to say a prayer for getting them there in one piece.

They stopped the cars in front of the office, next to two single-decker buses. White with the company name on the side. Everyone got out of the vehicles.

‘I’m no’ saying that my life flashed before my eyes or anything, but I’m sure I had a conversation with my mother and she’s been deid for ten years,’ Stewart said to Harry, a slight sheen on his forehead.

‘Taxi driver just birled right in front of me, but I took evasive action,’ Evans said. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘Welcome?’ Stewart said. ‘You never told us you learned to drive on a fucking tractor. You know, in a field where there are nae other vehicles and the only daft bastard standing near you is a scarecrow.’

‘What can I do for you gentlemen today?’ Mike Morton said, coming round the front of the bus next to them. ‘And lady.’

‘We need to have a word, Mr Morton,’ Harry said. ‘In your office.’

‘Okay. No problem.’

Morton led the way in, and just as they were entering, Janice, the secretary, got up from behind her desk and left. Harry turned towards Lillian and nodded.

Lillian walked over to the little red Renault parked round the side by some other cars and stood by the driver’s door. A few seconds later, Janice appeared, pulling her coat on.

‘Oh, God, you scared me,’ she said, jumping back a little.

‘Going somewhere, Janice?’ Lillian asked.

‘Er…just popping out for some milk for the tea.’

‘That can wait. Why don’t we find somewhere we can sit and have a wee chat?’

Janice’s shoulders slumped. ‘We have a wee canteen. We can have a cuppa in there.’

‘Let’s go.’ Lillian nodded for one of the uniforms to come with them.

They walked back through the door Janice had come out of and went inside.

She plugged the kettle in and they sat at one of the small tables. The room was adorned with bus timetables, posters for buses and a calendar that had been donated by a motor oil company. Two vending machines stood facing them. Otherwise, it was bare. Lillian could see through the grimy windows across to Edinburgh Airport and she watched a plane coming in to land.

‘This is some place,’ she said as Janice poured two mugs of coffee. The uniform stood by the door.

‘You want milk?’ Janice asked Lillian.

‘I thought you didn’t have any?’

Janice gave a wry smile. ‘I lied. There, you caught me out.’

‘Milk, no sugar, thanks.’

Janice poured and sat down opposite Lillian. ‘Is this about Marshall?’

‘Could be. What can you tell us about him?’

Janice hugged her mug for a few seconds and blew on the hot brown liquid before taking a sip, trying