Haunting shadows, p.22
Haunting Shadows, page 22
“I looked on there, sir, but ye might be able tae find more than I could.”
I looked through the phone, using all of my knowledge to search the folders and areas where I knew things could be hidden, but after half an hour I was left with nothing. However Malcolm had been contacting Grace, it wasn’t through his own phone.
I passed it back to him, and he smiled at me smugly. “I told ye so.”
There was the sound of footsteps as Young and the PC came back into the room. The PC was holding a backpack.
“Is this yer bag, Malcolm?” the PC queried.
Malcolm nodded. “Aye, that’s mine. It’s the only thing of mine here.”
The PC passed Young—who was now wearing gloves—the backpack. “Thank ye fur confirming.”
The PC was smiling, which made Malcolm narrow his eyes suspiciously.
Young unzipped the bag, put his hand into an inside compartment, then pulled out a cheap-looking Nokia phone, which he waved in the air victoriously. “Well, well, well... what have we got here?”
I turned to Malcolm with crossed arms. “I take it that is yours, Mr. McCoy?”
Malcolm’s eyes opened so wide they seemed to fill over half of his face. “I—have niver seen that before! I s-swear!”
Grace moved forward quickly, her eyes on Malcolm. They were filled with a mixture of anger and hurt, so I briefly assumed she was going to hit him. However, she took me by surprise by snatching the phone out of Young’s hand and waving it in Malcolm’s face.
“What the hell, Malc!” she hissed. “It really was ye this entire bloody time!”
I stepped in front of Malcolm, jerking my head at Young. “DI Young, please get that phone out of Grace’s hand before she further tampers with evidence.”
As Young took the phone out of her hand, her face went red.
“I-I’m so sorry!” Grace said nervously. “I just wisnae thinking.”
Aikens put a supportive hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine, Grace. Ye’ve just experienced a shock.”
Grace started to cry loudly, burying her face in Aikens’ shoulder. “A-a wee part of me always wondered if it could be Malc, but I n-niver genuinely believed he could dae this!” She turned to Malcolm, her face red with tears. “How could ye dae this tae me, Malc?”
Malcolm tried to approach her, but the PC moved forward and blocked his path.
“Keep away from her,” he said fiercely.
Malcolm looked tempted to argue, but as the PC was over a head taller than him, he quickly thought better of it. The PC continued to block his path, and Malcolm looked at me and Young desperately. “I swear I have nae idea how that got into ma bag!”
I looked at Young. “Search that phone and see what you can find.”
“Already on it,” Young answered, his eyes fixed to the phone.
Malcolm tried to get to Grace again, continuously calling her name, but the PC held him at bay. As Malcolm became more persistent, I stepped forward.
“Mr. McCoy, you either stop this right now or I’ll place you under arrest!”
“G! G, please!” Malcolm cried as he continued to try and push past the PC. “Ye have tae believe me, G! I wid niver dae this tae ye!”
As Malcolm didn’t comply, I sighed and stepped forward. I grabbed Malcolm’s wrists and pulled them behind his back.
“Malcolm, you are under arrest for the continued harassment of Grace Robertson and for wasting police time! You—”
“Nae!” Malcolm sobbed as I put handcuffs on him. “I didnae dae this!”
Malcolm struggled slightly, but I was able to put the cuffs on him with ease. I held onto Malcolm’s cuffed hands as I looked at Grace.
“I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, Grace, but your ordeal is over now,” I said calmly, then looked at Aikens. “You and your team are free to go. Make sure everything is fine here, then you can leave Grace to move on with her life.”
Grace looked at Malcolm with hurt in her eyes. “Thank ye, Detective.”
Malcolm’s eyes never once left Grace as I arrested him, even as I pulled him out of the house. “G! I didnae dae this! Ye amn’t safe! Dinnae let the PCs leave ye, please!”
“Goodbye, Malc,” Grace said glumly. “I kent I wanted this relationship tae end... I just niver thought it wid end like this.”
“Ye amn’t safe. G! Ye amn’t safe!” Malcolm continued to yell as I dragged him out of the house.
Once we were outside, Young opened his back door for me, and I pushed Malcolm inside the car. The entire time, Malcolm continued to yell at me to stop the PCs from leaving, but I ignored him.
I shut the door and looked at him in the backseat as he continued to beg for someone to help Grace. As I looked at him, a small part of me was starting to believe him, but I quickly shook that thought away. Malcolm had fooled me before and was likely trying to do so again.
I walked to the other side of the car to sit next to Malcolm, and with each step I couldn’t ignore the question that kept floating to the front of my mind...
Was Malcolm truly as innocent as he was desperately claiming to be, or was this just another performance from an exceptionally talented actor?
35
Malcolm looked like a broken shell of a man as we led him into an interrogation room. His skin had gone pale and puffy from all of his tears; his eyes were now more red than white, and his lip hadn’t stopped quivering since I sat next to him. The lad hadn’t stopped professing his innocence for the entire car journey.
Was he a desperate, terrified man… or was there a chance, no matter how unlikely, that we’d gotten this wrong? The evidence truly was overwhelming, and yet I’d never seen someone so adamant about their innocence.
I glanced at Young, who was looking at Malcolm without a shred of sympathy. His eyes were narrowed, and as he started the interview tape, I could tell he was still as angry now as he was when we were driving to Grace’s earlier.
“So, how does it feel tae waste polis time, Mr. McCoy?” Young snarled.
Malcolm rubbed his face. “I keep telling ye that I didnae dae this!”
Young pushed the phone toward me, and I put some gloves on before looking at it. I could hear Young attempting to push Malcolm into a confession as I looked through the phone, but the lad was persistent in his claims of innocence. It quickly became evident that this was the phone that had been messaging Grace.
I put the phone down, then pulled my gloves off with a pained sigh. “Unfortunately for you the evidence is overwhelming, Mr. McCoy. We found the phone hidden among your possessions, you had the opportunity and motive to send these messages, and the texts on this Nokia are identical to your own text style.” I paused, edging closer to Malcolm along the table. “The more you continue to deny this, the worse your sentence is going to be, Mr. McCoy.”
Malcolm looked as though he wanted to cry, but as he had already cried so much his tear ducts were likely depleted of moisture. He rubbed his eyes and huffed. “I really have nae idea how that phone got in ma bag.”
“How convenient,” Young muttered. “Ye expect us tae believe that somehow the true stalker managed tae get into Grace’s house and plant the phone in yer bag without anyone noticing them coming or going?”
Malcolm rubbed his face, looking as though he was fighting the urge to scream. “I dinnae ken who has been daein this tae Grace, but it isnae me.” He turned to me with desperate eyes. “Please tell me ye asked one of the PCs tae stay with Grace?”
I shook my head. “This is no reason for anyone to stay with her now, Mr. McCoy. We’ve caught her stalker.”
I put emphasis on the last word, but Malcolm only continued to look scared. “I didnae dae this, which means the stalker is still out there! Please, ye have tae look out fur G, she could still be in trouble!”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose, my patience quickly evaporating. “You really need to stop this act now, Mr. McCoy. It really isn’t helping you. You’ve been caught red-handed, so the best thing for you to do right now is to—”
“Tae what, Detective?” Malcolm interrupted. “Tae confess tae something I didnae dae? I dinnae care how many times ye ask me, I winnae be confessing. I’m innocent!”
Young shrugged. “Confess... dinnae confess... really, it makes nae difference tae us. Either way, we have yer arse. Ye will be looking at a long stretch in prison, but the length of yer stay is really up tae ye, Mr. McCoy.”
I nodded. “DI Young is right, Mr. McCoy. If you cooperate with us and confess, you could be out of prison within a year or two.”
“I dinnae care how long I go tae prison fur! All I care aboot is Grace. Whoever did this is trying tae turn her against me!” Malcolm exclaimed desperately. “Please, ye have tae go out there and find her stalker!”
Young sighed as he pushed back in his chair. “I dinnae ken aboot ye, DCI Glover, but I think we might as well end this soon. The lad clearly has nae intention of helping himself, and I’m more than happy tae leave his fate tae our justice system.”
I looked at Young thoughtfully. “Pause the interview. I have an idea.”
Young looked intrigued, but he quickly agreed.
I stood up from my chair, grabbed the Nokia, and walked toward the door, then exited the interview room. I then walked into our department to see Paterson, Gamble, Fenton, and Boyd all looking both surprised and excited.
“Is the interview over, sir? Did he confess?” Fenton asked hopefully.
I shook my head. “No. The lad continues to insist he’s innocent.”
Boyd snorted. “I cannae believe he hasnae given up!”
I looked between Gamble and Fenton. “I asked you to look into Malcolm’s bank statements before; did either of you get the chance to do so?”
They looked at one another guiltily before looking back at me.
“I didnae, sir,” Fenton responded apologetically. “I got wrapped up in everything else.”
“What are ye thinking, James?” Paterson inquired.
“We know Malcolm has been using a different phone to message Grace, so he must have gotten it from somewhere,” I explained. “Look at his statement and see if you can identify anywhere that he might have gotten a phone. Also, look for anywhere he could have got flowers and perfume recently. If we can prove he purchased those items, he won’t have a leg to stand on.”
“We will get on it right away, sir!” Boyd exclaimed.
Back in the interview room, Malcolm was pointedly looking anywhere except for at Young, while Young was pointedly staring at Malcolm. The moment I closed the door behind me, Young resumed the interview.
“Now that ye’ve had some time tae think, are ye ready tae talk tae us, Mr. McCoy?” Young queried.
Malcolm ignored Young and looked at me. “Did ye send some of yer team tae check on Grace?”
I crossed my arms. “No, Mr. McCoy. I did go see my team, but I went there to ask them to look into your recent bank statements.”
Malcolm frowned. “Why does that matter?”
I smiled. “Because if you purchased a phone, flowers, and perfume recently, then we will likely find evidence of that on your statement.”
“Search away, ye will find nothing there,” Malcolm responded confidently. “Now that yer team is daein that, ye can call someone tae check on Grace, cannae ye?”
I pursed my lips as I looked at him, feeling unsure what to make of him. Everything suggested Malcolm was guilty, and yet he kept going on about Grace’s safety. It was like he genuinely felt there was still a threat to her.
“Why are you so sure she needs protecting?” I asked.
Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door.
“Enter,” I said loudly.
The door opened, and Paterson walked in. She had a wide smile on her face as she passed me a piece of paper.
“Just what ye asked fur, DCI Glover,” she said sweetly. “I’ve even taken the liberty of highlighting the important parts fur ye.”
I winked. “Very helpful, DS Paterson. Thank you.”
Paterson blushed, then left the room.
“What is it?” Malcolm asked quickly.
I put the paper between me and Young, my eyes glued to Malcolm’s face as I did so.
“What’s wrong, Mr. McCoy?”
Malcolm gulped. “I dinnae think there’s anything on there, but yer colleague said she’s highlighted stuff.”
Young laughed happily. “Oh, and that she has, Mr. McCoy!” He punched my arm lightly. “Ye have tae check this out, DCI Glover. It wid appear our lad Malcolm has been lying tae us... yet again.”
I pulled the paper toward me and noticed three transactions that had been highlighted with a yellow pen. The first one showed a trip to a local florist that had taken place the day after Grace and Malcolm had been to the bistro. The second highlighted a transaction—on the same day—that showed that Malcolm had been to Boots. I wasn’t certain why at first, but then I noticed Paterson’s handwriting next to it. She’d written that she’d gone on their website and the perfume found in Grace’s room cost that exact amount from Boots. The final transaction—again from the same day—revealed that Malcolm had visited Highland Mobile.
We had him.
36
Iput the paper down and then looked at Malcolm. “This is your last chance, Mr. McCoy, okay?” I paused intensely. “Did you or did you not fake a stalker in order to try and save your relationship?”
“Nae, I didnae!” Malcolm paused as he pointed at the paper. “What is on there?”
I sighed. “The beginning of your end, Mr. McCoy.” I ended the interview tape, then stood up from my seat. “All we’ve done is try to help you. It’s just a shame you’ve been unwilling to help yourself.”
“What are ye talking aboot?” Malcolm asked, clearly panicking.
I showed him the piece of paper. “Your bank statement, Mr. McCoy. Proving that it was you who purchased the Nokia, that it was you who purchased the perfume, and that it was you who purchased the flowers. You’re done.”
Malcolm scoffed. “Impossible!” He pulled the paper toward him, but seconds later he was blanching. “I-I dinnae understand how this is possible! I didnae buy those things!”
Young laughed coldly. “Ye can try and pretend that someone hid the phone in yer bag, that they mimicked yer style of typing, but ye cannae fake a bank statement, Mr. McCoy... yer guilt is all there in black and white. It’s over.”
Young opened the interrogation room door and gestured for two PCs to come in. As Young was doing this, I kept my eyes on Malcolm and was surprised to see how intently he was staring at the bank statement. I thought he was a good actor, but the way he trembled and looked confused was so genuine… it was hard to know he was faking it.
I hated myself for it, but as I looked at him trembling in his seat, I couldn’t help but pity the bloke.
Before the PCs could move him, I fixed Malcolm with a serious look.
“I want to help you here, Mr. McCoy. Really I do... but I can only help you if you let me.”
Malcolm slowly looked up from his bank statement. His eyes were watery, but his expression was defeated. “I-I really dinnae ken how this is possible.” He sniffed loudly. “I didnae buy those items, Detective Glover. I swear I didnae! Ye have tae believe me!”
I didn’t know if I was going soft, but I found myself slowly believing him.
I sighed. “If you didn’t do this, Malcolm, then you need to think long and hard about how someone else could have done this.”
As Malcolm screwed his face up in concentration, I turned to Young. “Can you check his bag, DI Young? See if maybe someone has stolen his bank card.”
Young gaped at me. “Ye must be joking, right? Dinnae tell me ye are falling fur this crap!”
I grimaced guiltily. “I’m not willing to rule anything out just yet, DI Young. Please, just check the bag for me... if his card is missing… then someone may have stolen it, and if it’s there—”
“Then we stop this rubbish and get this man taken tae a cell.” Young paused, giving me a dark look. “He’s already wasted enough of everyone’s time.”
I hesitated, but eventually nodded.
Young asked the PCs to keep to the back of the room, then he walked off to find Malcolm’s backpack. The moment I heard the door close behind him, I turned to Malcolm.
“Have you come up with anything?” I pressed. “You really need to think here, Mr. McCoy.”
“The only thing I can think of is that day I went tae a café and I left ma bag unattended fur a moment when I went tae the toilet... maybe someone took ma card then?”
I looked back at the bank statement. I could see that Malcolm had been to a café an hour before the first transaction was made, meaning it was plausible someone had taken his card and used it without him knowing. However, as a couple of other transactions had taken place since then, it was hard to know how that was possible. I pointed to them.
“How did you buy the pizza without your card?” I pressed.
“I used Apple pay,” Malcolm answered. “I didn’t need my actual card.”
“Unfortunately, that doesn’t help your case much, Mr. McCoy. You have no alibi, and it would be hard to convince a court you didn’t have multiple means of paying for those items even without your bank card.”
Malcolm rubbed his face harshly. “I cannae believe this is happening tae me!”
The door opened, and Young entered, his expression far from amused. He held Malcolm’s wallet, which he hurled onto the table. “There’s Malcolm’s wallet... and his card is inside of it.”
“I-I dinnae understand,” Malcolm mumbled.
“Ye may not, but I dae!” Young snapped. “Ye’ve wasted our time fur days and ye are continuing tae dae so now! There was niver a stalker, yer card was niver stolen, and ye’ve been playing us like fiddles since the moment we met!”
“I swear I—”
“Enough!” Young snapped, talking quickly over Malcolm. “Ye had the phone in yer bag, yer bank statement proves ye purchased those items, and ye are the only one who could have put things in the house without anyone seeing ye.” Young looked at me. “This is over now, right?”
