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

‘He’ll be here in a little while. Besides, I’m assuming you checked him out. You’ll have his address.’

‘He rents his old flat out. That’s his address. He’s moved but we don’t know to where. So tell us.’

‘I can’t do that, not without a warrant.’

Stewart stepped closer to Morton and both Harry and Dunbar saw the man flinch in his chair a little. ‘Listen here, I am going to make one phone call, and not only will we having a fucking warrant, I’ll have friends of mine in the press come crawling round here, looking for the alleged paedo who owns this shitey wee bus company. They’ll be all over you like a rash. Then I’ll call the twat in the council who overseas contracts for wee bawbags like you and tell him you’re allowing some paedo teacher to drive schoolkids. You might as well wipe your arse with your operator’s licence after that because that will be all it’s good for.’

Agnes had a face like thunder. ‘Just tell them, Mike. The sooner they’re out of our hair bothering us, the better.’

‘Jeez, somebody got out of bed the wrong side. Why didn’t you just ask?’ said Morton, putting a brave face on it. ‘He lives just round the corner.’

‘Round the corner? Where round the corner?’

‘Well, actually on the corner. Turnhouse Road and Turnhouse Farm Road. You can’t miss it. Turn right out the gate and it’s on the left after you go over the railway bridge. It’s a wee cottage there.’

Stewart stared Morton in the eyes. ‘You call Mann and I’ll make sure you’re both sharing a cell. If he’s done anything, you’ll be an accessory. Both of you.’

Morton remained seated behind his desk and the uniform watched over him.

The detectives piled into the pool car, after having a chat with Lillian about how her interview with Janice had gone.

Dunbar was behind the wheel, Evans in the back, shaking his head. Learned to drive on a tractor indeed.

Thirty-Five

The drive took thirty seconds, as there was no traffic coming along the road. Across the Fife rail line, like Morton said, and Turnhouse Farm Road was on the left, and they could see the little cottage from the main road.

Round the corner, Dunbar parked the car in the driveway. A small hatchback was parked further in and now they were blocking it.

The house was a long, single-storey cottage which looked well-kept.

‘Bit isolated here,’ Stewart said. ‘Perfect if you’re a beast.’

They walked up to the door facing them and it opened before they got there.

‘I’m not a religious man, so you’re wasting your time,’ said Marshall Mann, pretending not to recognise them at first. ‘Oh, it’s yourselves, detectives. Come away in. I’ve got the kettle on.’

They followed him inside. The place smelled fresh and clean with a hint of furniture polish. If he was a hoarder, he hid it well.

‘Living room’s through here,’ Mann said.

All of the detectives were on high alert. If somebody jumped out, Evans would be expected to lead the defence, Harry and Dunbar next, in that order, with Stewart providing backup with a couple of flying boots.

The only sound was a plane coming in, seemingly about to land on the roof.

‘You get used to it,’ Mann explained.

‘How long you lived here, son?’ Stewart asked.

‘About four years.’

‘It’s a nice property,’ Harry said, looking around. There were photos sitting on a dresser. Mann with a woman, dressed in climbing gear, sitting on bikes, in canoes, walking a trail up some Highland mountain.

He saw Harry looking at the photos. ‘That’s Denise, my girlfriend.’

‘Is she around?’

‘No.’

‘We were led to believe you were married.’

Mann hung his head for a second before looking back at Harry. ‘I was. Yvonne died in a car crash years ago.’

‘What did she do for a living?’

‘She was a bus driver. She drove for Mike. She liked it because it was only along the road and she’d worked with him at the big bus company.’

‘That must have been hard,’ Dunbar said.

‘It was. Still is. I only started driving because she introduced me to Mike. I had some debt and the extra money helped pay that off. Teachers aren’t millionaires.’

‘We have a witness who saw you bringing a young girl to the yard on your bus one night,’ Stewart said.

Mann gave a little laugh. ‘That’s Denise. She’s a teacher at Broomhouse High with me. We got chatting one day and started seeing each other. I miss my wife, but I have physical needs. Denise is small, but she’s a thirty-one-year-old divorcee. She got my bus from the Gyle the other night because she’d been having dinner with a pal of hers at Frankie and Benny’s. If you see Dougal Dixon again, you can tell him I saw his car was still in the yard that night he saw me with Denise.’

‘He got it in for you, has he?’

‘He just started hating the job. He didn’t like me, although I had nothing against him. He told me Janice has a thing for me, and I believe him, as Janice has hinted that she’d like to go out sometime.’

‘That’s not what she told our colleague. She said she comes along here for a bit of how’s your father,’ Stewart said.

‘What? Jesus. You have seen her, haven’t you? I have no intention of going out with her. I’ve had to knock her back a few times. Denise told me that it was an anonymous phone call that got me suspended. I suspect it was Janice, being vindictive, but I can’t prove it. Yes, I talk to the students, but so do all the drivers. We’re just being friendly.’

‘How does that work, you being a teacher then going out driving a school bus?’ Evans asked.

Mann looked puzzled. ‘I don’t drive the school bus. When I say I talk to the students, I mean if they get on the bus when they’re going to the Gyle Centre or something. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally I’ll see some of them. They say hello.’

‘Who does the school