CODE TO MURDER, page 1

Pat McTaggart
CODE TO MURDER
First published by Letham House Publishing Ltd 2026
Copyright © 2026 by Pat McTaggart
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.
Pat McTaggart asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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
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In memory of my mum, who gave me my love of reading, and my dad, who gave me the logic and skills to work things out.
Contents
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
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
CHAPTER 58
CHAPTER 59
CHAPTER 60
CHAPTER 61
CHAPTER 62
CHAPTER 63
CHAPTER 64
CHAPTER 65
CHAPTER 66
CHAPTER 67
CHAPTER 68
CHAPTER 69
CHAPTER 70
CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 72
CHAPTER 73
CHAPTER 74
CHAPTER 75
CHAPTER 76
CHAPTER 77
CHAPTER 78
CHAPTER 79
CHAPTER 80
CHAPTER 81
CHAPTER 82
CHAPTER 83
CHAPTER 84
CHAPTER 85
CHAPTER 86
CHAPTER 87
CHAPTER 88
CHAPTER 89
CHAPTER 90
EPILOGUE
About the Author
Also by Pat McTaggart
CHAPTER 1
As Amy came out of the service lift, and made her way through the staff door leading to the guest hallway, she heard an unusual noise. It sounded like a ball being thrown against a wall. She turned left to go past the stairs, with the intention of heading along the corridor towards room 202, when—
Thud.
Amy felt herself fall backwards and saw the dinner tray she’d been carrying float weightlessly in front of her, just like in the pictures you see of astronauts in space. She had the sense she was freefalling in slow motion, even though it was happening in a fraction of a second.
Bouncing down the stairs towards the landing between the first and second floor, she caught a glimpse of a man running past her, before her head cracked violently against the floral-wallpapered stone wall and she came to an abrupt halt on the landing.
Then darkness. Silence.
The man stopped momentarily, glancing over at her motionless body.
He wondered. Is she dead?
Without checking, he turned and bounded back up the stairs.
CHAPTER 2
It was after seven p.m. when Ben Fitzpatrick and his wife Clare arrived home. Ben was Detective Chief Inspector in the Major Investigation Team located in Forth Valley Police, a division within Police Scotland. He and his wife had just spent a week together in the seaside town of Troon, Ayrshire, on the west coast of Scotland. It had been good to get away – especially given recent events at work. Unfortunately, though he had tried to cast the situation out of his mind, he had been unable to forget, largely given the fact that his issues at work were still very much unresolved and on the horizon. Despite the sunny weather of the last week, he had felt a constant cloud hanging over him.
Ben and Clare sat down to have a much-needed cup of tea when Ben’s phone rang.
“Not already,” said Clare.
It was his detective sergeant, Julie Taylor.
“Sorry, sir, I know you’re not due back until tomorrow, but I thought you might prefer to know now that we have a suspicious death up at The Heartlands Hotel just past Stirling. I know you like to view the crime scene as early as possible, and I’m on site there now.”
“Okay, Julie, no problem. I’ll see you in about half an hour.”
Clare sighed and gave Ben a knowing look. Julie was a competent DS and didn’t really need Ben there. Was it any wonder he’d not been himself lately and had struggled to switch off, even on holiday? Clare didn’t say anything, but Ben understood what the look meant.
“Remember what we discussed on the way home: phone the doctor and make an appointment to see him this week. They’re open late today, so you’ll still be able to phone.”
“Okay,” replied Ben.
“Don’t forget,” Clare said, to emphasise the point.
“I won’t,” said Ben as he headed out the door to his car.
Clare was worried about her husband. Now in his mid-fifties with nearly thirty years’ service in the police force, he still found it difficult to detach himself emotionally from his cases. However, she couldn’t help but feel something had changed lately; that there was something happening beyond his devotion to his job.
He wasn’t himself.
She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she knew something wasn’t right.
CHAPTER 3
Driving over to Stirling, Ben was secretly glad Julie had phoned. It was good to have a break, but he would be glad to be back in amongst things again. Over the years, he’d found that was the best way to handle matters when another case was troubling him – get the grey cells working again. At the same time, he had to admit he had not exactly been in fine fettle of late: far more tired than usual and a bit off with people, grumpy even, which wasn’t like him at all. It was probably a combination of working too many hours and the unresolved previous case getting to him – and maybe needing to cut down on those fry-ups. He would phone the doctor when he got a chance, if nothing else but to stop Clare worrying.
Ben’s mind switched to the job in hand. Julie knew him well. He did like to be involved at the start of a case; he felt there was real value in surveying the crime scene himself as early as possible. He prided himself on having a different way of looking at things and often spotted clues that others may have missed. He also believed it gave him a better feel for what had happened, more so than reading the case notes later.
Julie was a good DS. Ben had known her for many years, even before she had joined the police. He had trained with Julie’s father, Tim, who was a police sergeant, and they had been close friends. Sadly, Tim had passed away from a heart attack at a fairly young age and Ben had tried to keep a watchful eye over Julie ever since, mentoring her as she progressed steadily through her police career.
Ben soon arrived at the entrance to the grounds of The Heartlands Hotel. It had a long drive, and he saw the hotel sitting majestically at the top of the hill. The hotel dated back to Victorian times, having originally been a spa resort, and it certainly reflected the grand architecture of that time. As he drove up, Ben saw the hotel’s clock tower standing tall in the centre of the building. He had been in the hotel before, but never on police business. It was only a few miles from Stirling, with its historic castle, where most of the buildings dated back to the fifteenth century. Even as he parked up he could see The Wallace Monument standing tall in the skyline. Stirling itself, sitting at the heart of Scotland, was only around thirty miles away from both Edinburgh, the capital city of Scotland, and Glasgow, Scotland’s largest city. Ben knew it was a great location for both tourists and business people.
He couldn’t help but wonder which of the two were currently being examined by a team of forensics officers and detectives.
Ben reached the top of the drive and parked his Toyota Corolla hybrid around the back of the hotel, away from the building work he noticed was being carried out at the side. He quickly got out of the car and marched towards the entrance, glancing up at the clocktower as he passed. Then he remembered his promise to his wife.
I’d better phone the doctor now – who knows how long I’ll be in there.
But eagerness to get started, to find out what was awaiting him inside, took over and his thoughts quickly changed.
I’ll leave it till tomorrow.
Julie met Ben as he reached the top of the rather grand flight of stairs into the hotel.
“So what have we got, Julie?” asked Ben, getting right into things.
“We have a suspicious death: a man in his late thirties or early forties, found dead on the floor of his hotel room – room 202 – with a deep gash on his forehead. The room door was left open. Now, it is possible that he fell and hit his head on the desk. The strap of his laptop bag was tangled around his legs so he could have tripped over it. However, my gut tells me it all looks too neat. Forensics are up there now.”
“Who found the body?” asked Ben.
“A five-year-old girl, would you believe? She was playing with her tennis ball in the corridor and it bounced away from her into the open door of the room. She went in to get it, saw the man and screamed. Her father came running from his room, saw the body and called reception.”
“Poor wee girl, what a terrible sight for her to see,” said Ben. “Any connection between the man and girl and the victim?”
“None at all, sir. I interviewed them myself.”
“Okay,” said Ben, nodding.
“It’s also worth noting that not long before the body was found, the hotel security manager had already phoned us after stopping and detaining a man carrying a bag full of items that look like they were stolen from guest rooms.”
“Really? Well, that’s a bit of a coincidence!” said Ben. “Is he in custody?” he asked, wondering if they had already apprehended the killer.
“He is sir, yes. But there is one more thing I should tell you.”
Ben looked expectantly at Julie.
“Around about the same time, a hotel waitress, Amy Robbins, was found unconscious on the landing between the first and second floor. From what we understand, she had been on her way to deliver room service to the very gentleman whose body we found in room 202. She’s been taken to hospital, still unconscious, and according to the paramedics is in a very bad way.”
“Any idea what might have happened to her?”
“Well, the tray and some of the dinner are lying between the second floor and the landing below, so it looks like she either fell down the stairs or was pushed.”
“Possibly by the man the security manager caught stealing from guest rooms,” suggested Ben.
“That’s the strange thing, sir, it couldn’t have been him. The security manager actually saw Amy heading to the lift just as he detained the thief heading towards the exit.”
“Hmm,” said Ben, surprised.
“Is there anything obvious missing from the room?” he asked.
“No sign of a laptop or phone, sir, although the victim’s wallet is still in his jacket pocket, which is round the chair in front of the desk.”
“So you’re thinking the thief may have been disturbed and some sort of struggle ensued? Still doesn’t explain what happened to the waitress, though. Unless she’d found the body first and was running downstairs to tell someone?”
“We don’t know at this stage,” said Julie, before continuing, “I should tell you as well that the security manager is ex-police – and keeps reminding us of it.”
“Oh aye,” replied Ben, raising his eyebrows, knowing that could be good or bad – and by the sound of things was the latter.
As they walked at pace up the stairs, they stopped at the landing where Amy was found. Ben noticed blood on the corner of the wall, presumably where Amy had cracked her head, and the spaghetti bolognese splattered all over the plush green carpet on the stairs between the first and second floor landings.
“No sign of any loose carpet or anything she could have tripped over,” said Ben, “and looking at where the tray, plates and dinner have landed it looks to me she might have gone down the stairs backwards, dropping the tray as she went. I’d guess she was pushed or nudged as opposed to her tripping. Make sure we get the clothes Amy was wearing from the hospital so we can do forensics checks, Julie.”
As they approached room 202, Ben asked, “Who is our victim?”
“His name is James Anderson. He’s the chief technology officer of a software company called Trade-IT, based at the business park next to the University of Stirling. Apparently, he was here with his management team for an offsite meeting. They arrived this morning and were staying overnight tonight. Their chief executive is downstairs.”
They arrived at the room and Ben surveyed the scene. He looked carefully at the layout of the room. As he walked in the door, past the toilet and shower room on the left and wardrobe space on the right, he was facing the side of the desk which was positioned in front of a window.
The victim was lying on the floor near the desk as if he had started walking towards the door and had tripped. The man’s legs were tangled in the strap of his bag. His suit jacket was hanging on the chair in front of the desk. Looking straight ahead to the far side of the room directly opposite, Ben could see a curtain with what looked like a door behind it, which presumably was to an adjoining room. Along the left hand wall, he saw a double bed with a small table and two padded chairs, one on either side.
The victim had blood on his forehead and there was blood on the corner of the desk too. The desk was facing the window and there was nothing between the side of the desk and the bedroom door other than a desk clock on the floor with its glass face smashed and the time showing 17.45; and, somewhat strangely, a metal backplate with two screws lying just inside the door.
Ben tried to visualise what might have happened, his hands and fingers waving and pointing in different directions as he ran through the scenarios in his mind. If it was an accident, suggesting Mr Anderson had simply tripped over his bag and hit his head on the corner of the desk before falling to the floor and rolling over on his back, there was something odd about the position he had landed in. He put this to the senior forensic scientist, Joan Scott.
“Could this really have been an accident, Joan?” the tone of his voice indicating he had his doubts.
“It could be,” replied Joan, adding, “but almost certainly is not.”
She was never one to fully commit prior to finishing her checks and the body being examined by a forensic pathologist. It’s what made her so good at her job.
“Okay, I can see why it could be, but what are the reasons it probably isn’t?” asked Ben, quickly adding, “based on your examinations at this stage.”
Joan replied, “Well, there is some bruising on the back of the victim’s neck, which would suggest some kind of struggle, and I won’t know whether it was the blow to the forehead that killed him or something else until we have a thorough examination of the body. If he fell against the desk, I’m not sure the force of the fall would have been enough to kill him. That said, a single blow in a particular spot with less force can sometimes be enough. I would also add that the positioning of the body on the floor looks a bit odd, almost as if it has been set up – badly.”
Ben nodded in agreement, it was just as he thought.
“What about time of death, Joan?” asked Julie.
“It will take a bit more testing to confirm. The time on the clock, which looks like it may have been knocked off the desk during the incident, may be a good indicator; best guess is probably between three p.m. and six p.m.”
Ben asked, “Where is the victim’s room key card?”
“In his jacket pocket,” answered Julie.
“In that case, since his jacket is on the chair, I don’t see why the victim would have been going out. He also couldn’t have been going to answer the door to someone, having fallen before reaching it – as the door was open when he was found,” suggested Ben.
“Good point,” said Joan.
“Boy it’s warm in here,” said Ben, looking over at the radiator and opening his top button and loosening his tie. The radiator was turned up to the warmest setting. He noticed what looked like a business card wedged behind it. He lifted it off with a glove. It read ‘Keith Wesley Executive Recruitment’ with an address in Glasgow. Ben took a photo of the details and passed the card to the forensics team to bag.
