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  G R Jordan

  Our Gated Community

  A Highland and Islands Detective Thriller

  First published by Carpetless Publishing 2021

  Copyright © 2021 by G R Jordan

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  G R Jordan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  G R Jordan has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

  First edition

  ISBN: 978-1-914073-07-6

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Contents

  Foreword

  Acknowledgement

  Novels by G R Jordan

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Read on to discover the Patrick Smythe series!

  About the Author

  Also by G R Jordan

  Foreword

  This story is set on the Monach Islands and various locations around Glasgow. Although incorporating known cities, towns and villages, note that all persons and specific places are fictional and not to be confused with actual buildings and structures which have been used as an inspirational canvas to tell a completely fictional story.

  Acknowledgement

  To Susan, Harold, Jean and Rosemary for your work in bringing this novel to completion, your time and effort is deeply appreciated.

  Novels by G R Jordan

  The Highlands and Islands Detective series (Crime)

  Water’s Edge

  The Bothy

  The Horror Weekend

  The Small Ferry

  Dead at Third Man

  The Pirate Club

  A Personal Agenda

  A Just Punishment

  The Numerous Deaths of Santa Claus

  Our Gated Community

  The Satchel

  The Contessa Munroe Mysteries (Cozy Mystery)

  Corpse Reviver

  The Patrick Smythe Series (Crime)

  The Disappearance of Russell Hadleigh

  The Graves of Calgary Bay

  The Fairy Pools Gathering

  Austerley & Kirkgordon Series (Fantasy)

  Crescendo!

  The Darkness at Dillingham

  Dagon’s Revenge

  Ship of Doom

  Supernatural and Elder Threat Assessment Agency (SETAA) Series (Fantasy)

  Scarlett O’Meara: Beastmaster

  Island Adventures Series (Cosy Fantasy Adventure)

  Surface Tensions

  Dark Wen Series (Horror Fantasy)

  The Blasphemous Welcome

  The Demon’s Chalice

  Chapter 1

  Ross tried to stop himself from being sick as the boat lurched up and down in the choppy sea. Although the trip would be a short one, and hopefully, the body found in the town square would be a routine death, he was already regretting his bosses being away on a conference. Left with Stewart to hold the fort unless something juicy came in— Macleod’s words, not his own—Ross had hoped for a quiet few days. A chance to catch up on simple paperwork and certainly not having to brave the January cold.

  DI Macleod and DS McGrath, the senior officers on his team, were at a conference that would change the way policing was achieved. At least, that was how the Inspector had worded it. It was a forced effort by him, of course, because it meant policies to do with how they spoke to each other. Every modernisation, especially in terms of how officers addressed each other or dressed, was painfully endured by the Inspector with a face held tight in a grimace. Ross believed if Macleod had not been so good at detecting crimes then he would have been pensioned off long ago.

  Ross waved away a cup of tea placed in front of him and then watched the deckhand calmly take a slug of the liquid, quickly as the boat rose. The cup was secured at the man’s side as the boat fell back down off the wave. Ross no doubt would have covered himself in tea.

  His destination on this blowy January day was Morning Light, a fledgling community built on the Monach Islands, just west of Benbecula. Over the last year a small community of idealists, according to his internet, had built a paradise, somewhere free from the soot and smog of everyday life—an eco-haven. Ross had nothing against such developments, but it seemed that the new heaven was now somewhat tainted. This morning, a woman had been discovered dead in the town square. And with his bosses away, Ross, as the more senior officer, had been dispatched to check on the death.

  It was not common for a senior officer to attend a ‘normal’ death, but this one had become more complicated in that the woman’s wrists were slit in an apparent act of suicide. The attending Sergeant who had arrived in the morning to the islands had thought that the scene was somewhat inconsistent with a suicide, mentioning that the blood at the scene seemed very meagre. The photographs he had sent through made Ross’s police senses prick up too and after a quick word with the Inspector, he had got into his car and headed for the airport with a member of the forensic team.

  Lucy MacTaggart was barely thirty and was a rather closed individual. Her comments, while not unkind in content, always seemed to be delivered with a dispassion, or a complete unawareness of their effect. But Jona Nakamura, her boss, had said she was as thorough as they came.

  Lucy was sitting at the aft of the boat, watching the sea and Ross hated her for the simple ease she had while he looked like a clown, holding his stomach tightly. He tried to focus on what was ahead and soon saw the newly built harbour. It was more like a long pier bent around in a curve, presumably to provide shelter from the rough seas, and Ross longed for the vessel to come alongside.

  Once they had docked, Ross stepped off the vessel to be greeted by Constable Allen who led him along a paved road to what looked like a small but modern village. Ross was taken aback by the quaintness of the place, stuck as it was on an island off Scotland’s west coast, not somewhere which looked idyllic in January. Instead, it should seem harsh and barren but with newly fallen snow, the town of wooden buildings before him certainly could earn a place in any tourist guidebook.

  That was until he saw the black coverall lying on the f
loor, surrounded by some other black coverings. The morbid tableau was up against a statue of a lighthouse which had a glowing light at its peak. The statue was surrounded by five houses built from logs, but with what seemed like modern windows and small units attached to the sides, possibly air source heat pumps or some other sort of heating system. The town square was empty except for another police officer, this time with the rank of Sergeant.

  ‘Sergeant Tom Sutherland, and you must be DC Ross. Thanks for coming over. I guess you should call me Tom, what with this conference that’s going on. What should I call you?’

  ‘Ross is fine, Tom. I’m always Ross. Where is everyone? I’d have thought they would be gawking over the body like in most places.’

  The Sergeant shook his head. ‘Been ordered back to their homes by the mayor so as not to contaminate the scene.’

  ‘Ordered?’

  ‘Yes, that was how Mayor Forester put it. They have quite a tight community out here from what I’ve heard. When the idea of making an idyllic community was first floated, there was a lot of derision. I believe the mayor sees this place as a standard for all new builds to come, in terms of energy efficiency and also of community. But I’ll let him bore you with all that. He’s more than willing to tell anyone that will listen.’

  Ross pulled his jacket around him and was thankful he had worn his hiking boots to this job. Snow was lying three inches thick and there was a dusting on top of the black coveralls.

  ‘Shall we take a look, Ross?’ asked a voice beside him. Turning, he saw Lucy MacTaggart already dressed in a white coverall and sporting gloves and a facemask.

  ‘Please, be my guest. I’ll stand at a distance so as not to contaminate anything.’

  ‘I doubt you’ll contaminate it any more than it already is. If we don’t get to these kinds of instances fast, then the local population always make a hash of the scene.’

  Ross stepped back and watched Lucy draw back the coverings. On the ground beside the statue, he saw brown hair leading down to a woman dressed in a flimsy but large t-shirt, sporting a comic mouse on the front. Bare white legs stuck out beyond her and a red stain was on the snow. Ross watched Lucy trace her hands around the body without disturbing anything and then give a grunt.

  ‘I’m going to photograph her first,’ she said to Ross, ‘and then I’ll check her over. Sergeant?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the officer, ‘Sergeant Tom Sutherland. Or Tom as it is now.’

  Lucy seemed to stare right through the man as if he had stated the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Hold the covers, Tom. There’s not much of a wind but we need to be careful. And don’t get in the way of the photographs.’

  The Sergeant glanced over at Ross who simply shook his shoulders. Looking around him, Ross could see people at the windows of the houses. There were two younger women in one, one of whom seemed teary eyed. In another, an older couple looked on. A third had a man and woman of around thirty holding each other tight as they looked. A fourth was a smaller house and dark inside while the last house had an older man watching the other houses. This struck Ross as the other spectators were watching the square—not each other.

  ‘Tell me, Tom, are there any buildings other than these?’

  ‘Yes, there’re two more homes. We’re on Ceann Ear but there’re two more islands that are interlinked at low tide. There’s a family on Shivinish and a couple on Ceann Iar. I haven’t seen anyone from there yet, but the mayor said that he had messaged them not to come over until the situation was dealt with.’

  ‘And the woman before us is Amanda Novak?’

  The Sergeant nodded. ‘At least the mayor says so. He said she was Canadian, but we have not had any positive ID from any relative. Though having so few people here it’s unlikely to be anyone else. They would know their own.’

  ‘Is that her house?’ asked Ross, pointing to the one house that was dark inside.’

  ‘Yes, but we haven’t gone inside. I’ve asked everyone to stay clear of it as well. Thought it best to get forensics here first. I wasn’t convinced with the body, Ross. Too little blood for a suicide. I doubt it would have washed away.’

  ‘It’s a good thought,’ mused Ross, but he was desperate for Lucy to begin an examination of the body and put that blessed camera down. The snow began again before Lucy set her camera aside and carefully started to run her hands across the unfortunate woman’s body. At first, Lucy seemed almost uninterested as she examined the corpse but then she began to lift up the long t-shirt at the rear.

  ‘Ross, over here,’ shouted Lucy above a freshening wind.

  Ross stepped carefully around the scene and knelt beside Lucy who was holding the t-shirt up at the back presenting a view of the woman’s bare buttocks and back. ‘What am I looking at?’

  ‘That!’ said Lucy, pointing at what looked like a minor disturbance of the flesh.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s a puncture wound.’ Lucy pushed her finger into the small cut and it opened up. Ross watched in amazement as her finger disappeared inside. ‘My guess is it’s longer than that, right into the innards. Given the angle, I’d say the heart was potentially stabbed through.’

  ‘But what about her wrists?’

  ‘Probably cut after. But I doubt she was wearing this t-shirt when it all happened. There’s no puncture hole in the top and the Sergeant was correct in that there seems to be too little blood around. Hardly any on the top. Something’s wrong here. My money is on our girl being murdered somewhere else and then brought here, like a staged suicide.’

  Ross, sitting on his haunches, thought through what this meant. He was on a remote island and Lucy was telling him there was a killer amongst this small group of people. Staring up, Ross glanced around the houses looking in on him, and the faces staring back.

  ‘How long has she been dead?’

  ‘Hard to be specific but I reckon it was in the night so dead anytime from nine until three this morning.’

  As Ross pondered this, a door opened and a stout man with greying hair marched across the snow. He was wrapped up in a florescent jacket and wore wellington boots. Watching the Sergeant step across to block the man’s path, Ross stood up and joined the barricade.

  ‘Can we bury her? We can’t have her lying there in front of everyone while you prod around Amanda’s body. It’s not right.’

  ‘Mayor, please return to your house until my colleagues have completed their investigations.’ The Sergeant was doing his best, but the Mayor was trying to force his way past.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, my name is DC Ross and I’m currently running this investigation. May I ask that you return to your house and await us? I’m going to need to interview everyone.’

  ‘But cover her up, man. She’s right in the view of everyone.’

  ‘Then I suggest that you close your curtains, Mayor . . . I apologise, sir, what is your name?’

  The man was taken aback as Ross seemed focused on a matter of routine politeness. ‘Mayor Forester.’

  ‘And I believe you have some degree of responsibility over this town.’

  ‘Yes, I’m the Mayor of Morning Light. We’re a peaceful place, a better place. But we can’t allow your colleague to brandish Amanda’s body about like that—’

  ‘Then get me a tent.’

  Ross had been told about Lucy’s occasional tacit response to being questioned about what she was doing. For a man of infinite patience and smooth running, Ross was taken aback by the casual barb, but he was not going to have a scene develop. Placing a hand behind the man and showing the way back to the Mayor’s house with the other, Ross began to walk him to this front door.

  ‘Normally, we would have a tent but as you can imagine getting hold of something such as that out here is not easy. But if you can remain inside and maybe close your curtains, then I‘ll be with you shortly to take statements.’

  ‘But the girl killed herself. It would be the decent thing to bury her. Right here where she loved. She was one of us, officer
.’

  ‘Indeed, but it appears something was amiss, so I need to take the appropriate measures.’ Ross gave a firm but compassionate grin.

  ‘But with the storm coming, we need to hurry to place her in the ground or we’ll not be able to for a few days.’

  ‘Inside, Mayor. I’ll be along shortly. Thank you for your cooperation.’

  Storm, thought Ross, great. He pulled his mobile from his pocket and dialled Inspector Macleod.

  ‘Ross, thank goodness, do you need me?’

  ‘I’m afraid so. We have a dead woman on our hands and Lucy MacTaggart believes she was murdered, not suicide as originally thought. I think this is as remote as I’ve been, sir. I could do with some help.’

  ‘Okay, you know the drill, site secured and then get some initial statements. I’ll get Hope to get some more officers your way if we can.’

  ‘Hope, sir?’ Ross asked, taken aback.

  ‘Yes, Hope, your boss, Ross. Or do you want Alan? That’ll take some getting used to.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Never mind, I’ll tell you when I see you. Ring Jona, too.’

  Ross stared at his mobile for a moment, somewhat confused. But then he walked over to the Sergeant. ‘Weather going to get bad?’

  The man nodded. ‘I’m not sure if the boat will be able to come back later tonight, Ross. It looks like it’ll be us for the moment, at least until morning but even then, I’m not hopeful.’

  ‘Okay, Sergeant, but be aware that your initial suspicions were correct, Tom. This woman was murdered, and the killer’s probably watching us through one of the windows. We need to play this one very carefully.’

  Ross stepped away and watched Lucy working on the body at the foot of the statue. He would have a lot of work to do before his boss got here and he’d need to keep everyone safe. Suddenly, the weather seemed even colder.

  Chapter 2

  Ross consulted the Sergeant and left Lucy MacTaggart to her work while he and the senior uniformed officer made their way to speak to the mayor of Morning Light. Constable Allen was detailed to assist Lucy as necessary but Ross doubted she would seek much help.