Free Riven by A J McCreanor Page A

the evidence had already been removed.’ Ross spoke clearly, attempting to move the briefing on. ‘So, nothing of any note could have been lost in the fire.’
    Stewart turned on him. ‘Nothing of any note was lost? Forgive me, Ross, I didn’t know that you were psychic. A wee talent you’ve kept hidden?’
    Ross’s blush moved from his neck to his cheeks. ‘What I mean, boss, is that—’
    But Stewart cut him off. ‘Is that meant to make me feel better? That at least we managed to collect
some
evidence before the place was torched? And since you’re psychic, perhaps you’d like to tell us who managed to get by two of Strathclyde’s finest and burn the bloody house down?’ Speckles of spit escaped from Stewart’s mouth and landed on his notes.
    Ross kept his eyes on the floor. Said nothing.
    Stewart turned from him and addressed the team. ‘So, despite our best efforts and you will admit they haven’t been
sterling
so far, the killer or killers managed to murder James Gilmore, then sneak back into the house
under our noses
and destroy whatever else it was they didn’t want us to find. But thank you,
acting
DI Ross, I’m gratified that in your opinion we’ve no cause to worry.’
    Nervous sniggers spread around the room. Stewart ignored them. ‘So, let’s move on. Who was James Gilmore?’
    Wheeler spoke. ‘James Gilmore, age fifty-four, lived alone. Unmarried. Worked as an educational psychologist peripatetically in Glasgow schools.’
    Stewart continued, ‘A victim who was found by two former pupils of Watervale Academy beaten to death in his own home.’ Stewart glanced behind him; photographs of the body had been pinned onto the board. He waited for a few seconds, letting the team take in the horrendous images. Watched the faces scowl in concentration as they registered the bloody purple of Gilmore’s battered flesh and the hook on which the body had been hung.
    ‘Okay. Now we know what we’re dealing with, I want you to think about who would do something like this.’ He looked around the room then continued, ‘What do we have?’
    Silence.
    ‘Well, let’s get updated. Someone must have seen something. Let’s start with door-to-door enquiries.’ He pointed to a uniformed officer in the second row. ‘Well?’
    ‘Door-to-door gave up nothing helpful, boss. It seems that Gilmore’s house is too remote for him to have anyone just passing by. A few neighbours knew him by sight and said that they were on nodding terms with him but nothing more. There were never any invites round for drinks or dinner; apparently he never socialised with any of his neighbours. Not even a card at Christmas, nothing. He kept himself very much to himself.’
    ‘A ghost,’ muttered Ross.
    ‘What was that?’ Stewart turned towards him.
    ‘Nancy Paton, the head teacher at Watervale, made it sound like Gilmore came and went so quietly it was like he was a ghost,’ he paused, ‘albeit, according to her, a benign one.’
    Stewart pursed his lips. ‘So, he came and went without any real presence? Your take on him, Ross?’
    ‘The guy was a bit of a loner – he’d no wife or girlfriend and he worked with kids on a one-to-one.’ He paused, letting the possibility hang in the air.
    ‘Any evidence?’
    Ross shook his head. ‘Nothing.’
    Stewart looked at Wheeler. ‘What’s your gut instinct about the head teacher? Do you think she trusted him?’
    Wheeler nodded. ‘Absolutely. She said he was very good with the kids.’
    ‘Then keep an open mind.’ Stewart glanced around the team. ‘Last known movements?’
    More silence.
    Wheeler spoke again. ‘Hard to tell – he wasn’t due at Watervale until today. He had two other schools on his rota,’ she checked her notes, ‘St Austin’s and Cuthbertson High. I’ll call them today. Send someone over to interview the staff.’
    He looked at her, the tension easing from his face. ‘Good and check receipts, find out where he did his shopping, get CCTV from the