‘Did you report it to the police?’
‘That’s the trouble. They couldn’t prove it was Carly who shared it. Or Teresa Ennis.’
And that made a modicum of sense. Still proved nothing either way. ‘So why is that the trouble?’
‘Because I know her father. Ryan.’ Mike looked around the room. ‘He’s… he’s… he’s a police officer.’
‘So you thought he’d use his contacts to keep a lid on it?’
‘Stands to reason, doesn’t it?’
‘There are procedures in place for reporting police corruption.’
‘Hmm.’
‘I’m serious. If you think that “we investigate our own” and it’s all covered up, well that’s a very outdated view. We have officers from other divisions to investigate. If you had reported the matter to the authorities, a full and proper investigation would’ve occurred in the event of any corruption. Did you speak to Teresa’s family?’
‘My wife went into the local station, but she got stonewalled.’
‘I see.’
Adamson sat back, mirroring his client’s body language. ‘A shared dick pic is pretty common nowadays, though, right?’
Mike was blushing, eyes shut.
‘What. Don’t tell me—’
‘My son has a very unusually shaped penis.’ Mike shook his head. ‘But the image was clearly of my son with… with… with his penis on display. And everyone at the school was going on about it. Calling him names. So, anyway, after my work night out yesterday, I—’
‘Hold on a second.’ Vicky raised a hand. ‘You had a night out?’
‘Correct. I’m an accountant at Hunt and Ward in town. We usually have our night out at the start of the month, but places had booked up, so we could only get the twenty-third. Town was busy and they all went on to a nightclub, so I got a cab home.’
‘When was this?’
‘Just after midnight.’
Which tallied with Alan Kettles and his sneaky GPS tracker. ‘Did you call for it?’
‘No, it was from the rank at the Overgate.’
‘You know the driver?’
‘No.’ Mike let his arms go, hanging by his side. ‘But he seemed to know me. The friendly sort. Name of Dougie McLean.’
It hit Vicky like a sledgehammer. After tying up Catriona Gordon, McLean had gone back to work. Maybe McLean was innocent of Carly’s murder, but he had raped Catriona. And left her tied up. And eaten some beans on toast.
‘This McLean chap started chatting to me in the cab, you know how it is. He was talking about snaring young lassies on an app. “Poggr. Without the e, ken.” Right?’ Mike’s refined accent slipped to Dundonian for the fairly accurate impression. ‘Then he told me that one of these “young lassies” lived nearby.’
‘Where was this?’
‘Near my home.’
‘Adelaide Place?’
‘Correct. And it was Carly. He described her as a “tidy piece” and said he’d been “banging her for over six months now, but had to break it off because she was too eager”. I was still angry with Carly, but… When I asked for a receipt for the taxi, it irked McLean. He said he’d text me it. But I sensed he was up to something, so I insisted he do it there and then, sending me a receipt to my email. So he started to. And I saw that he didn’t have a passcode on his phone. Schoolboy error. I realised that phone could be useful. So I made myself sick in the back of the car. And it certainly pissed him off. And cost me fifty pounds. But it allowed me to steal his phone. And I saw a plan. I could take the phone, see if he had photos of her on it. But there was nothing… Whatever McLean was doing to her was in person not on camera … but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. So I wanted to scare the life out of her and enact revenge for my son’s ordeal.’
‘By killing her?’
‘God no. Just… Just kidnap her, take some nude photos and videos, then share them. Give her a taste of her own medicine. And if I could frame Douglas McLean for the crime? All the better.’
‘Why frame him? What had he done?’
‘Well, I initially wasn’t going to, but when I found that app, Poggr, well. Let’s just say that when Mr McLean said he found “young lassies” on there, he had a taste for very young.’
‘How young?’
‘Hard to say. I saw a girl who said she was 41, but she would never pass for that.’
Vicky felt her stomach go. She caught the same look of revulsion in Karen. Forty-one when she was fourteen. And Dougie McLean must’ve known. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, I wasn’t there for that. But I found the messages he’d sent to Carly. A lot of them, until he broke it off with her by text. So I used it to snare her, promising that he’d made a mistake. And I arranged a meeting the following night, with the promise of a fancy hotel room. That place down where the V&A is going.’
‘And she thought you were him?’
‘Douglas had let her down. Dumped her, so it took a bit of persuading. And Carly was playing it cool. She said she was going to a party with her friend, Teresa, who was meeting her boyfriend who worked in Ashworth’s afterwards. I suggested picking Carly up at the Ashworth’s car park, and we could go to the hotel room I booked for some sexy fun. She agreed. Carly turned up, but Teresa had given her a lift there.’ Mike smiled. ‘I couldn’t believe my luck. Both my son’s tormentors in one place.’
‘Wait a second. She’d know what car Mr McLean drove.’
‘Correct. A silver Skoda Octavia, the one I’d seen dropping her off so many times.’
‘Did you buy one?’
‘Didn’t have to.’ Mike leaned forward again. ‘Dougie called me on his phone. I pretended to be someone who had found it. I arranged to hand him the phone in the car park at the top of the Law, said I’d be driving a BMW 3-series.’
‘And did you?’
‘No. I waited for Dougie, for
