Chapter 34
FIFE
‘Mum! What’s wrong?’ Laura Forrest said, rushing into the room, trying not to burn herself with the cup of coffee.
Margaret couldn’t get the words out but instead was flapping her hand in front of her.
As soon as the old woman let out the scream, Art bolted out of the room to get a nurse while Brodie tried to calm her.
The nurse came rushing into the room, brushing past Laura and Cameron, the latter holding two cups of hot coffee, trying to envision how he would wipe his arse after he had skin grafts on his hands.
He spotted the elevated wheeled bed tray that would be swung over the old woman’s bed and put the cups down, going over to a small sink and running cold water over his hands.
He stepped back with Art as the nurse attended to Margaret, with her daughter by her side.
They stepped out of the room. ‘What was she screaming about?’ Cameron whispered.
‘Brodie told her that we found a body under her floorboards, then she went off her nut. Not unexpected, especially when he said it was a bairn.’
‘Fuck me. That daughter shoved into me when she heard the scream and I nearly burnt my fucking hands off. I’m not going to that bastarding machine again. It probably tastes worse than that pishwater lager in the bowling club.’
‘Just drink lemonade next time we go.’
‘What makes you think I’ll go there again?’
Art made a face and looked at him. ‘You’re living with your maw. Do you want to stay in and exchange patterns? Or do you want to have a few beers after work?’
‘Knitting or crochet?’
‘Fine, help her ball up her wool for all I care.’
Cameron laughed. ‘Easy, pal. I get your point. Maybe we could grab a pint in some boozer one night.’
‘That’s all fine and dandy until they find out we’re coppers. Then one of them leaves through a window.’
‘Aye, good point,’ Cameron said. ‘Hopefully when we go back, that moaning old hag won’t be serving.’
‘Fingers crossed. I got Drever’s address from the DVLA. We’ll pay him a visit later.’
‘We can check it out later after the high heid yin goes home,’ Cameron said.
‘What do you think of him?’ Art asked.
‘Efficient. Probably doesn’t do stand-up at a comedy club.’
‘Come back, Alan, all is forgiven.’
The nurse came back out. ‘Is everything okay?’ Art asked her.
‘I gave her something to calm her down. Getting bad news will often shock them like that, but it’s especially bad in her state.’ The woman looked frazzled and walked away quickly.
‘In her state?’ Cameron asked. ‘Old and infirm?’
Art shrugged and headed back into the room. ‘Everything okay, boss?’
‘It is now. Mrs Wallace is asleep.’
Laura was standing beside her mother, holding her hand. ‘She’s a remarkable woman, isn’t she?’
‘Aye, she is that.’
‘Is your father still alive?’ Cameron asked.
Laura looked at him and shook her head. ‘He died a long time ago.’
‘What was his name?’
‘Toby Wallace.’
‘What did he do for a living?’
‘A miner, before he retired on ill health.’
‘How old was he when he died?’
‘Fifty,’ Laura said.
Brodie nodded at her. ‘We told your mother that we found the body of a young boy under the floorboards.’
Laura gasped and put a hand to her mouth. ‘What boy?’ Her eyes were wide now.
‘We don’t have an identification.’
‘Marcus,’ she whispered.
Laura took a few deep breaths before carrying on.
‘He was my little brother. He disappeared. He was a runner, you see. I remember he had my mother worried sick. He ran away for some reason. Nowadays they would say he had ADHD or something. Maybe he was on the spectrum, but whatever it was, he just had these fantasies about running away to sea on a pirate ship, and one time he wanted to go in a rocket up to space. Then one time my mother was running about like a headless chicken when I got home from school. He had run away again, but the police caught him at the bus station.’
‘How did he get there?’ Art asked.
‘At that time, there was a bus that went through the village. He would get on like any other kid. This particular bus went to the station. The control room at the bus company put out an alert for him after Mum discovered he was gone, and they got him at the station and brought him home. There was no malice or anything. He would tell the police that he wanted to go on adventures, just like my dad. But the thing is, my dad used to tell him stories, like he was an African explorer or an astronaut. He would spin these tall tales to us. Marcus wanted to be like him. My dad was told to stop, and he did. No more tales of climbing Mount Everest, but then one day, Marcus was gone again. And he didn’t come home this time. We never heard from him again.’
‘No sign of him was ever found?’ Brodie said, matter-of-factly.
‘Correct.’ Her lips started to tremble. ‘To be honest, my father was distraught. He would drink and take pills to sleep. He did this the night Marcus disappeared but he miscounted and died of an overdose.’
‘Do you think your father had anything to do with Marcus’s disappearance?’ Art asked.
‘No. He loved his son, and he was usually too drunk to lift a hand to wipe his nose, never mind lift a hand to us. He was never violent, and he was always worried sick when Marcus took off.’
‘How old were you when he disappeared?’ Art asked.
‘Sixteen. It was in the summer of 1987’
‘How did he get under the floorboards?’ Brodie asked.
‘I have no idea. That’s something you’d have to ask my mum.’ Tears rolled down her cheeks.
‘We’re going to have to get a statement from you, Laura,’ Brodie said. ‘Do you have a number I can reach you at?’
She gave him her mobile number and he put it into his phone.
‘What about your address?’
She gave him her address in Leven.
‘We’ll be in touch, Laura.’
She nodded back at them, and then the three men left the room.
Downstairs in the car, Brodie looked at them. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s a strange one,’ Art said. ‘Obviously somebody killed him and wrapped him up and hid him under the floorboards. And there were technically three adults in the house, if you count Laura because she said she was sixteen at the time, but how would you kill somebody and then lift up the floorboards and put them back without anybody noticing?’
‘Maybe they didn’t have carpets?’ Brodie said.
‘We can find out. Meantime, I want to get some Uniforms going door to door, asking the neighbours about the family who lived there. Especially Margaret and her husband, Toby. Make a phone call to your team, Art.’
‘Will do.’ He sat in contemplation for a moment. ‘You think one of them killed the boy?’ Art said.
‘Well, there’s another explanation: somebody took him, killed him, brought him back and then put him under the floorboards. But that’s an outside chance.’
They sat in silent contemplation as Cameron drove away.