The time is 13:45 hours
on Wednesday, the 30th of December.
You've been arrested on suspicion of Section 3 RTA 1988.
My mum was going, "Any update?"
None.
So we were just literally both sitting in the kitchen
watching my mobile phone and house phone, waiting for the police to call.
As Procurator Fiscal Head of Homicide,
I had knowledge of every murder and suspicious death
that occurred across Scotland.
A huge amount of resource was put in to try to find Tony Parsons,
and there was not a single trace of him anywhere.
Dr. Muirhead coming forward was the first lead the police had had in years.
So I instructed the police to arrest the McKellar brothers.
Armed police! Stand still!
People started to privately message me on Facebook
saying, "My gosh, what happened to the boys? Are they okay?"
Show your hands! On the ground!
The boys were taken by officers in balaclavas
to the police station for questioning.
Your name?
Alexander Gardner McKellar.
What's your age?
Twenty-nine.
I was thinking, "It's still not too late."
"If you go and confess, you can do the right thing,
and this ordeal would be over."
What is it you do? Self-employed?
Farmer. Anything to do with the farm, really.
Okay.
You didn't show that man any kindness at the time,
but you can show kindness now.
It might be late, but it's better late than never.
You'll be asked about your involvement in offenses
under Section 3A of the Road Traffic Act 1988.
That is causing the death of another
using a vehicle whilst unfit through drink or drugs.
We understand that he's told Dr. Muirhead precisely what has happened.
So, potentially, potentially he might tell the police.
You're not bound to answer, but if you do,
your answers will be recorded,
may be noted and may be used in evidence, understand?
Yeah.
Two detectives arrived at my parents' front door.
They said, "We need to sit down and have a conversation."
I had this horrible feeling in my stomach that this has gone wrong.
Have you ever been involved in a road accident involving a cyclist?
No comment.
Have you been involved in a crime and tried to cover it up?
No comment.
Can you tell me what you were doing
on Friday, the 29th of September, 2017?
No comment.
Caroline Muirhead told us Sandy said he'd knocked Mr. Parsons down
and that he was buried on the estate.
Do you know where Anthony Parsons is?
But until the body of Tony Parsons is found and then recovered,
there is nothing whatsoever to show
that that was a truthful statement.
Did you see Anthony Parsons at all?
No comment.
Were you the last person to see him alive?
No comment.
There was no basis at that time to charge them.
The detective said, "We didn't have enough to hold them, we had to release them."
And my brain's just going,
"Fuck."
Then she went, "Don't worry, we maintained your anonymity."
And I was like, "Who else do they think it's gonna be?"
"We seized the estate, so the boys won't be allowed back there."
I said, "Where will they go?"
"That's none of your concern, Caroline."
It is when he's obviously gonna get in touch with me.
If you've just released him, he's gonna get in touch.
"Well, you tell him that you've just heard that he's been arrested,
and you've got your job, and you don't wanna deal with him."
That's not gonna fly. I've told this guy I wanna marry him.
"What if he turns up at my parents' house?"
"You call the police." Well, then it's a bit too late, isn't it?
Witness protection is all about a risk assessment
of the level of threat that the individual poses.
This isn't a serious and organized crime group
who are about to go and shoot other rivals.
The police advised Dr. Muirhead to stay with her parents,
to call them if she had any contact from the McKellar brothers.
They plainly felt that that was sufficient in the circumstances to ensure her safety.
Caroline said, "You've gotta get alarms for the house."
"You've gotta get door locks, you've gotta get window locks."
And she was totally panicking.
She was frightened.
What's to stop him turning up at my mum and dad's front door?
What is he thinking?
Does he think this was me?
What have the police said to him?
Would he harm me?
This man was trained to kill professionally.
And so I felt fucking terrified.
The police were told by Dr. Muirhead she left a Red Bull can
at the spot that Sandy McKellar said he'd buried the body.
So we followed the directions provided by Dr. Muirhead.
You drive down into the estate onto a rough track,
crossing a ford and up into a hilly area.
It's exceptionally remote.
We were being kept abreast of matters as they were happening.
The first thing the police did was to go search the area
to see whether there was a Red Bull can.
And lo and behold, there was.
If the body of Tony Parsons isn't underneath or near to the Red Bull can…
…the chances of us finding it are negligible to zero.
You couldn't possibly search the whole estate.
If we don't find the body, there is no case.
There's no basis upon which the McKellars can be re-arrested and re-questioned.
I said to my mum I was gonna go stay at a friend's, but I lied.
I didn't want to put them in danger or put them to any harm.
I went back to my flat 'cause I just wanted to be on my own.
When I arrived back, there was a parcel waiting for me.
And I knew it was gonna be one thing.
Inside the box was the wedding dress that his mum and I had ordered online,
there in all its glory.
I thought, "Do you know what?"
"Fuck it, let's wear it."
Too big.
Heh.
Oh, well.
And I was just spiraling.
And I think in my, sort of,
pathetic way,
I wanted to see what it would've felt like…
to wear it.
Stupid as that sounds.
You kind of have those moments where you think, you know,
"I wonder, if this was an alternate timeline,
what may have been and what could've happened."
You know it's not your reality, but you like to daydream
because just for those few minutes,
it just takes you to a nicer, happier place.
Suddenly, I get a message pop up in my inbox
from Robert and Sandy's friend.
Click on it…
And the message says, "Hi, Caroline, Robert and Sandy are with me."
"They've come to stay with me and my family an hour from Glasgow."
They've seen that I've read the messages. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit."
They were clearly on their phone the same time I was on my phone.
And they're waiting on you to reply.
If I don't answer that message immediately,
and immediately say, "I miss you, I love you,"
it'd be so obvious that I'd been the one to betray him.
Before I knew it, the phone is ringing.
And they'll know that the phone is in my hand ringing.
You have to answer it.
You just go,
"Fuck."
"Hi."
I said, "I got messages from your friends saying that you've been arrested."
"What the hell is going on?"
"Caroline, I've been trying to reach you. I'm so worried about you."
He went, "I think we've been under surveillance for ages."
"Robert's definitely opened his stupid mouth when he's been drinking."
"But, end of the day, Robert and I said, 'No comment' to everything, so it's fine."
So I'm actually getting this sense of hope, in some ways,
that maybe the police kept me anonymous.
Unless he's playing a really, really dark, twisted game here,
he can't know that it was me who went to the police.
And he was like, "You've got your flat in Glasgow."
And he was like, "When can we head over?"
I'd resigned myself to never hear from him again.
My brain was… in these two conflicting worlds.
I missed him. I wanted to see if he was okay.
But also, inviting him over to my flat
means I'm putting myself in a really precarious situation.
But as mental as it sounds,
I said yes.
You're standing behind the door thinking,
"This is either the best way to be safe
or the most stupid thing you've ever done."
"And the most recklessly dangerous thing you've ever done."
You've got these big six-foot men walking up a wee small corridor,
looming into the viewfinder.
I remember thinking, "Look happy."
"Because you are happy to see them,
because they were just arrested, released, so you'll be so happy they weren't held,
so relieved."
"Embrace them, be warm with them, laugh with them, comfort them."
"'Cause otherwise, you're fucked."
Body language tells you a lot.
And he just seemed genuinely relieved to see me.
In that moment,
I felt the heat was off.
So you're thinking,
"Good, this is okay, this is fine, this is not bad."
But then you're also thinking,
"I need to be clever about this
and create a plan in my own head of how to survive this."
I needed to keep them in good spirits
as much as I possibly could until they found the body.
Right, music on, pass the drink, pass the cigarette,
let's have a party.
We used substances and we drank,
and drugs and alcohol let you be a separate, different person.
All the while, they have no idea that I'm the one
who instigated that entire police arrest.
You're literally living on the knife's edge.
I don't know how long this is going to take,
and I'm starting to panic that maybe Sandy actually got it wrong.
And what if he isn't there?
What if they're searching and maybe they don't find him?
Please, God, let the body be there.
I got a phone call from the senior investigating officer in this case.
They'd got some witness information that they might know
where the missing cyclist, Mr. Parsons, might be located.
And I was asked, could I go along
to see if there were any clues from the soil or the vegetation
that might support this witness statement?
Cancer survivor, Tony Parsons, had been crossing Scotland
in a 100-mile charity cycle.
Everyone remembered on the news, just a few years previously,
Mr. Parsons had been on a charity cycle from Fort William to Tillicoultry,
and he just vanished without a trace.
Here in September 2017,
the Navy veteran was captured on CCTV
weaving through the rural roads.
As we walked over the area,
I could see that there was an area that was devoid of vegetation.
What we were finding was that the older peat,
the amorphous, mushy peat,
was actually very near the surface,
and so this area had indeed been recently dug up.
This was the place where Mr. Parsons might be.
So at that stage, the forensic team has to be put together.
So that would involve an appropriately skilled digger driver,
skilled forensic archaeologists,
the forensic anthropologists.
An exhumation isn't something that happens quickly.
You have to do it in a very controlled, measured way,
just as an archaeologist would do in an ancient site.
The Auch Estate is extremely remote,
and it was the depths of winter,
so it was plainly something that was going to take a period of time.
The days are going by, waiting for that man to be found.
It was so cold that the canal had frozen outside my front window,
so everyone was trying to stay indoors and keep warm.
You're living with killers, sleeping alongside killers.
You're having dinner alongside killers. Killers who think you're on their side.
And you've betrayed them.
Searches for a cyclist who went missing more than three years ago
are continuing in the Highlands.
Their fear was also palpable about what was gonna happen to them.
Everything's on high alert.
Police say their investigation continues,
and are once again urging anyone with information to come forward.
Their phone beeped, you'd jump out your skin.
I didn't know if a message would come that said, "It was Caroline."
It was exhausting.
At one point, Robert signaled to me that he wanted to have a chat.
I'm thinking, "What the hell is this gonna be about?"
He looked so sad and, like, empty, you know?
He said, "Caroline, I don't know what Sandy's told you."
"But you have to understand, when we hit that man…
…it happened very fast,
and he flew over the car."
"We got out, and when we walked towards him,
he was alive."
I thought he had been killed on impact.
Fuck.
He was saying it as if, like, unburdening yourself.
And Robert said that he moved him to the side of the road with the bike,
so they could change vehicles and come back.
And I was like, "Robert, so you left him alone on the side of the road?"
He was like, "Of course we did."
And the thought of that man being in agony,
and you hide them from any passing car
that may come down that could help them or save them,
that is a cruelty to another which was so needless.
If you'd called an ambulance, and he passed away before it arrived,
at least you've tried.
He said, "We went back,
changed cars,
left our SIM cards…
changed our clothes,
put gloves on."
"We went back,
and he was still alive,
but weakening, fading."
They carefully lifted him into a tarpaulin and then drove him back,
and they kept him overnight in a wooded area.
And then that same vehicle was used by the hunting clients the next day.
Then they buried Tony Parsons once the clients had left.
And so whether it was an accident or not,
all your actions, then, after it are not accidental.
And they're quite methodical, and they're well planned out.
And in my head, this wasn't, then, a hit-and-run.
This was…
potentially a murder.
Later that night,
Sandy's sitting there,
and he's starting to talk away, having a cigarette,
clearly in his memories, and he's pondering things,
and he's being quite open about the case.
It occurred to me that
if I was able to record some of the stuff Sandy was saying,
I would be able to help the police,
and I might be able to even record a confession.
So that it could be over and finished.
I've got my chess website out, playing, and to the left it said, "Voice recorder."
He would have zero idea if I just clicked that record button.
I'm playing the chess game whilst it's recording in the background.
What I find slightly weird with you, Sandy, is, like,
in some ways, you're so compassionate, so loving, so friendly, so gentle.
I can't imagine it.
But then when I see you when you've been drinking and stuff,
I can see you guys doing it.
I don't know.
I don't know about anything anymore.
It was a huge risk.
Any point, he could've come and put his arm around you
and been like, "How's your game going?"
The fact that they're still questioning folk,
and they're still trying to divvy off everybody…
It's not a clear-cut case.
The thing that I think you're going to get into trouble for…
is the lack of empathy.
Fucking hell, it's warm in here.
I was starting to think, "This won't work. This is going nowhere."
So I tried to be more confrontational.
How could you go out hunting the next day and not be bothered?
Like you must have been.
How could you not be, though?
It was either my life or his.
My brain went, "You've got it on recording,
but stop now."
I saw him walking over and I think,
"This is now, potentially, really not a safe situation."
Can you get that?
-What is it? -It's my Deliveroo.
I've got Red Bull and some cans.
Healthy diet, yeah?
When someone says, "It's my life or theirs,"
it was the admission I was so relieved I had the voice recorder on for.
But equally you're thinking, "But then why is he not saying,
'And I regret it,' or, 'I'm upset by it,' or, 'I think about it'?"
Was he actually someone who cared that he'd done this?
The extremes of the kindness and the cruelty
that both these twin boys had shown
made me really wonder,
what could have possibly happened in their lifetime to make them that way?
From 1999 to 2011, I was a community police officer
responsible for 79 square miles of Argyll and Bute.
It was community policing in its original sense,
back in the old days, you know, the cop responsible for an area.
And I fell in love with it.
I had left the police,
and I was aware of a missing person case.
I think I was watching a local news story,
and one mentioned the Bridge of Orchy, and I'm like, "Well, that's my beat."
Tony Parsons was cycling from Fort William
back to his hometown of Tillicoultry
when he went missing.
So I'm interested.
So I'm like, "Whoa. Stop, rewind, play. What've we got here?"
Police arrested two 29-year-old men
in connection with Mr. Parsons' disappearance.
They were released pending further inquiries.
"Oh! They've arrested somebody."
"That's good. Arrested two people. Interesting."
"I wonder who that is. I wonder if it's who I think it is."
I knew the McKellar brothers as boys.
I would spend a lot of time in the schools.
Community policing, stranger danger, cycling proficiency…
I'd like to think I meant something to them.
I've certainly got the pictures I think Robert drew of me, you know?
I kept it. I had it on my office wall. I've still got it. I'll show you.
They were rough and ready.
And I remember having discussions in the school
about maybe what the boys were exposed to at home.
It was enough for the teacher to be concerned.
I felt that that influence on the boys came from the father,
Tom McKellar.
There was a couple of serious allegations.
And the intelligence was enough for us to get a warrant to search Auch Estate.
And we found firearms throughout the house.
We found pistols.
Now, pistols are illegal to own.
And we found a firearm within Sandy's bedroom.
Having firearms strewed about your house,
lying about in your primary school kid's bedroom,
this is serious now.
And that resulted in Tom McKellar getting prosecuted.
From the age of 7,
the familiarity with firearms…
Holy shit!
…the slaughtering of animals and the disposal of animals…
There seemed to be an acceptance of that at too young an age.
If you're exposed to it day and daily,
it's gonna desensitize you to taking a life.
My thought at the time when I was watching that newsreel was,
"It is a good place to conceal a person."
There's still bodies missing here in Argyll that we haven't found.
The priority was to take each zone,
each layer of the soil, centimeter by centimeter.
Peat is dark.
It's very dark brown.
It's also, near the surface, quite fibrous.
So it hides things in it.
We were looking for material that had come from human origins,
such as hair, fingernails, any human-introduced material.
When the archaeologists got further down,
there were bones appearing.
And what the anthropologists said was,
"These look like deer bones."
And what it turned out to be was what is called a… a kill pit.
Gamekeepers on that estate, the McKellars, would have used this area
to dispose of parts of the animals that were not required.
There had to be a veterinary surgeon brought along
to confirm that these were, indeed, relatively fresh.
These were consistent with having been put in
from the same time that Mr. Parsons disappeared.
But also, we were seeing an awful lot of these little bits of wood chip.
You wouldn't find wood chippings there. It's not natural.
They wouldn't be there unless they'd been introduced.
The question is, where did they come from?
So we drove down to the Auch Estate farmyard.
As we were walking through that, we saw a digger truck.
When we looked at the bucket, within it,
there was these wood chips.
Those chippings were the same
as the wood chips that were found at the scene.
What was particularly significant
was the dimensions between the teeth on the bucket.
It was the same dimensions that were measured
between the marks that were left at the peat bog.
But only a few people would have access to that particular vehicle.
And two of those people were the McKellar twins.
We can trace the evidence at the kill pit back to Robert and Sandy,
but it's not enough to prove their guilt because we had not found the body yet.
Every day going past,
I'm thinking, "Surely they've got him by now."
I have not heard anything from the police, so…
I was so at a loss as to what was happening.
And I felt like I was in a state of permanent fear.
And I'm lying in bed, and I'm tossing and turning.
And Sandy's snoring beside me.
And then there was just this pounding.
Like bang, bang, bang on the front door.
"Shit! Shit! Fuck! Fuck!"
I'm thinking, "The only people who do that is the police."
I'm like, jump out of the bed,
close my bedroom door as fast as I can.
And I go down the… go down my hall.
There is the same female detective who had been at my parents' house.
Open the door ever so slightly.
I'm like… "Can I speak to you downstairs?"
"Who do you have in there?"
"I need to speak to you in the car, outside."
"Why?"
"Who's in there?"
"Friends."
"You're lying."
Bang.
And she opens up the door where Robert was sleeping.
She goes, "What the fuck, Caroline?! You're our witness."
And I'm thinking, "Did he hear that?"
And the man goes in and grabs Robert from the bed.
She's storming into the bedroom at the top, grabbing Sandy out of the bed.
And they go, "You're not supposed to be here,
you're supposed to be in care of friends in Aberfoyle."
And Sandy goes, "I'm allowed to stay here. This is my partner's house."
I'm going, "Of course you're allowed to stay here, Sandy, if you want to."
And they went, "Right, you two, you need to be out of here ASAP."
And like that, they left.
The police were checking on Caroline to see if she was safe.
I have no doubt they were astonished
to discover the McKellars were with her in the flat.
Had she cut all contact with them,
which she could readily have done,
then, plainly, she would have been rather safer.
Personally, I'd have run a mile to the nearest police station,
and then I'd have kept on going to a place of safety,
and I would not have seen him again.
I'm standing in my living room, and Robert goes…
"Caroline,
how did she know your name?"
"Have you met her before? Does she know you?"
"Have you spoken to the police?"
"No, no. No, no, no, no."
And Sandy, thankfully, intervened and went, "Robert, back off."
"Caroline would not do that to us."
"She loves us. I trust her."
And I could see, like, Robert was so angry.
Sandy's comforting Robert, and they're hugging each other.
Robert's like, "What'll we do?"
Sandy's like, "Look, Robert, it was three years ago."
"If they had anything, they'd have got us by now."
"They're not gonna find him."
"Even if they could dig up that entire place,
they're not gonna find him."
Robert was like, "Right, we need to get out of here now."
And Sandy's then like,
"I'm legally allowed to stay with my fiancée."
"They can't argue with that."
Robert leaves to stay with family friends outside of Glasgow,
and Sandy and I are then left in the flat.
He's like, "No, Caroline, I know you would never, ever betray me."
The way Sandy was defending me was so…
weirdly comforting.
To survive in that moment,
I genuinely started to believe my own lie.
I was the supportive girlfriend there,
who'd also been treated badly by the police.
I was lying.
I was betraying. Yes, it was for a really good reason.
But lying erodes a part of your soul.
It was such a toxic entanglement.
Caroline said, "Mum, he thinks we're still a couple."
"What do I do? He has a key."
I know that she was very, very afraid.
And she would lie there thinking,
"How do I get out of this?"
I honestly thought I was going to have a heart attack.
Was he gonna hurt her?
Would-- would he kill her?
The police had said, "You cannot tell anyone about this."
"Otherwise, you could compromise this entire investigation."
But I needed to talk to someone about it.
The next opportunity when Sandy left, I reached out to someone
who wouldn't judge me for the state I was in and would understand.
"You may have noticed I've been unusually quiet of late."
"Don't know how I've managed it, but I've been witness to a crime."
"I can even hear you in my head saying, 'Oh my days.'"
And so I decided to drive to her flat to see her.
And she opened the door, and she looked absolutely shocking.
I was like, "What the hell has happened here?"
Caroline is like anally clean, OCD-level clean.
And this house was disgusting.
She was just word-vomiting this information at me
in no coherent structure or order.
It took me about 20 minutes to work out what she was trying to tell me.
Sandy had been involved in the death of this guy.
She's now spying on Sandy.
Sandy, who we've just found out has murdered somebody,
was living in the flat, which I didn't know,
and had actually just popped out for some beers
and was coming back.
And I was like, "What the fuck is going on here?"
And my wife's heavily pregnant,
and I just need to… I need to leave the situation.
And as I was leaving, Sandy just arrived back.
He put out, uh, like, a hand to shake his hand.
And I just kind of awkwardly shook his hand
and said, "Nice to meet you," and then walked straight away.
I was devastated.
Her life was falling to pieces.
And I think it's one of the few times I've cried in about the last 20 years.
I just-- It was all too much.
I'll be honest, I was so manic at that point,
I don't really think I had any control over what I was doing.
I think, in some ways, my life was becoming so surreal,
my grasp on reality was weakening.
Police have been scouring this estate near Bridge of Orchy
for around two weeks.
It's understood specialist search officers
and forensic teams are excavating the area.
Sandy gets a message from a friend
that said the police are looking at the carcass pits.
We've been, I don't know, listening to music or something,
and he just slammed the radio off,
and he just started smashing his fists off the sideboard.
Being like, "How do they know? How do they know?"
"Fuck! Fuck! How do they know where he is?"
I said, "You're fine. They don't know where he is."
And he was like, "How could they be in that area?"
"The place is so huge."
I was like, "Someone else must know, or someone on the farm told them."
He had warped into, like, a crazed mania.
He was convinced there were spy devices
or taps for the police to listen to the flat.
And he gutted the-- I mean, every light fitting, everything,
essentially starting to trash it.
There was just this inhuman desire
to try and find whatever device the police left.
I was just thinking, "I've told the police where he is."
"I've marked the site
to make this as fast as possible for you guys."
"This can't take forever."
But it felt like absolute forever.
It was a Thursday in January.
It was a cold, cold day.
It was a day that I'll remember for the rest of my life.
We were digging down to about 30, 35 centimeters.
And the forensic archaeologist
took her trowel and carefully was removing down,
millimeter by millimeter.
And she said,
"There's something red here. There's red material here."
And we could see that
it looked like fabric that Mr. Parsons was last seen wearing
when he was cycling his bike.
And you could see that there were the fingerless gloves of a cyclist.
And indeed, she discovered that there was a ring on his wedding finger.
He was lifted onto the stretcher,
and… as he was carried out,
the sun came out between the clouds.
We all stood with our heads bowed.
And we all said a little silent prayer
for Mr. Parsons and his family.
I think not knowing what has happened
to your loved one is…
Is a form of torture, really.
To be able to bring that, at least, to an end
by saying, "We have recovered his body."
"We will, in the fullness of time,
give you back the body to allow you to have a funeral,"
gives them something to hold on to.
Now, human remains have been found in a remote part of Argyll.
Police have been carrying out extensive searches in the area
as part of their investigation
into the disappearance of cyclist Tony Parsons.
The 63-year-old was last seen more than three years ago.
Sasha Spratt reports.
The news broke out to say human remains had been found
on the Auch Estate.
Sandy sat down,
and I'm expecting him to scream and shout or kick off,
and he actually just sat in silence for quite a while.
I think, in that moment, he was a bit broken.
But he had this idea or this notion
that perhaps there'd been another farmworker on the estate
who maybe had seen something or who had leaked something.
And he, thankfully, never thought at any moment
that, you know, one, it'd be me,
or two, that there'd been, like, an actual marker.
Sandy and his brother were allowed to return to the estate.
So I dropped him home and waved him goodbye.
It was a mix of heartbreak and genuine relief.
I drove as fast as I could to the police station
because Robert had told me Tony Parsons was potentially still alive
at the time of the accident,
and I also had a confession of sorts on my laptop,
and I wanted the police to hear it.
How could you go out hunting the next day and not be bothered?
It was either my life or his.
I remember messaging my mum and dad.
They were like, "We're so proud of you."
It was like, "Oh!"
I was like, "I've done some good in the world."
Dr. Muirhead had provided the police with information
that Robert McKellar had confirmed to her
that Tony Parsons was alive at the time they removed him to the estate.
That information changed it
because it altered what we were looking at
from a potential charge of causing death by dangerous driving
into the most serious crime it could be,
namely one of murder.
But in Scotland, we have what's known as corroboration.
So that all relevant facts must be proved by two sources of evidence.
Mr. Parsons' body would not be capable of being examined immediately
because of the fact it was frozen.
There's a delay of seven days or so before it can be examined.
So until a full postmortem has been conducted
and the pathologists have come to a conclusion as to the cause of death,
and in this case, very particularly, whether that death was instantaneous,
there's still no basis to arrest them
because we don't know what the appropriate charges might be.
Arriving back at my flat,
for the first time in, like, two weeks I didn't feel manic or frenetic.
And the sun was shining, it was starting to feel lighter and happier.
And my phone rings, and it's Sandy.
I can hear he's driving the pickup truck.
He's on the loudspeaker.
And, you know, I was like, "Hi."
He was screaming,
"You fucking little bitch, you fucking did this!"
I said, "I've not done anything."
He said that Police Scotland used a local farming lad
to help with the grave-digging.
"There was a sugar-free Red Bull can left there."
"You're the only person who drinks sugar-free Red Bull, so you left it."
And he's just like, "You fucking did this,
and I have defended you to everyone."
"I said it wasn't you, and you fucking did this!"
"You've handed me in. You've fucked me and Robert over. You've fucked our lives."
He was like, "I need to see you right now, and we need to do this face-to-face."
And he hangs up the phone, and I swear to God, I started screaming.
My brain was like, "You are going to get extremely hurt now."
He's got the spare keys to my flat on the car keys.
And I was like, "I'm gonna die. He is going to kill me." ow."