Stuart MacBride - A Dark So Deadly

Calm down. Calm down and breathe.

It’s gone now. That’s the important thing.

She scrambles back into the car, turns around and drives the hell out of there.

The forest ripples past the Range Rover’s windows, caught for a moment in the headlights before vanishing forever.

It’s gone. And there’s nothing more to...

Her eyes widen and she slams on the brakes. Swears. And swears. And swears.

What if it’s not the only thing in the freezers? What if there’s other bits? What if the rest of the woman is in there?

Oh God.

Don’t panic. It’ll be OK.

Oh dear God.

Just... Just go back to the house and look.

And if there’s more bits?

Then they go in... bin-bags! Take them to the tip. NOT ALL AT ONCE! Do it gradually. A couple of bags at a time. To different dumps.

No one ever has to know about this.

Emma stares at herself in the rear-view mirror.

Because if they find out...

‘Emma? I asked if you recognised her.’

‘I... don’t remember.’

Mr Slick reached out and turned the photograph face down, then pushed it back across the table. A public-school voice with a superior drawl. ‘I believe my client has made her feelings quite clear on this, Detective Inspector Malcolmson. Let’s move on, while we’re all young, there’s a good girl.’

No one moved.

Franklin bared her teeth. ‘Sexist tosser!’

‘He did it on purpose to rattle her.’

It didn’t seem to work, because Mother just let out a big long sigh. ‘Emma, Emma, Emma. I don’t believe you killed all those people. Oh, you killed Bob Shannon and your father, and you tried to kill DC MacGregor, but the rest of them? No.’

‘I killed them all.’

‘You see, I think your father killed them. I think he’s been killing people for a long, long time, and when you found out about it, you did everything you could to protect his legacy. You think, if you take the blame, no one has to find out he wasn’t the man they idolised.’

‘I’m not protecting anyone.’

‘How many people did he kill, Emma?’

‘He didn’t kill anyone! Why won’t you listen to me?’

‘Was it three? Four? Seven? A dozen?’

‘NO ONE EVER LISTENS!’ She battered her fists down on the tabletop. ‘ I did it. Not him : me.’

‘Detective Inspector Malcolmson: my client has cooperated with your enquiry and given you a full confession. Now — move — on.’

Mother tilted her head to one side. ‘You loved your father, didn’t you, Emma?’

‘Of course I do. My father is... My father was a saint. He had nothing to do with any of those... remains.’ She sat up straight. ‘I’m the only murderer in our family. Me. Myself. I. Singular and accountable. I did it, because I’m sick and I need help.’

Silence.

Then Callum leaned forwards and clicked the button beneath the nearest microphone. ‘Ask her about Leo McVey. Him and her dad used to get off their faces on drugs and wreck things: hotel rooms, marriages, anything they could get their hands on.’

Mother flinched a little, then put a finger to her ear. Maybe she’d forgotten she’d put the earpiece in? ‘Tell me about Leo McVey.’

Emma’s mouth snapped shut.

‘He and your father were very close, weren’t they?’

‘I don’t...’ She glanced at her solicitor. Then back at Mother. ‘No comment.’

‘The drinks, the drugs, the bad behaviour?’

‘No comment.’

Callum hit the button again. ‘Gareth Pike saw him attacking my parents. He never said McVey was alone in the car. McVey’s always had Jaguars, but I’ll bet you a hundred quid, R.M. Travis is a Range Rover man.’

Mother spread her hands on the tabletop. ‘Your father’s got a green Range Rover in the garage, doesn’t he? You shot a dirty big hole in it.’

‘So?’

‘He always drove Range Rovers, didn’t he?’

‘He liked to buy British. What’s wrong with that?’

‘Oh nothing, nothing.’ She leaned in, lowering her voice to a pantomime whisper, ‘Only we’ve got a witness who saw Leo McVey attack and abduct a family, twenty-six years ago: mother, father, and little boy. He bundled them into a white Range Rover. Only he’s never owned one in his life.’

Emma fidgeted with the sleeve of her oversuit.

‘Now, wouldn’t it be funny if I got on to the DVLA and asked them to search for all the vehicles registered to your father, and up popped a white Range Rover from exactly that time?’

‘I...’

‘Remember the severed head in that photo? It belonged to the woman McVey abducted with your father’s car. It’s been frozen all this time. That’s funny too, isn’t it?’

‘No comment.’ But she didn’t sound quite so sure this time.

‘And, of course, our witness said Leo McVey wasn’t the only one in the car. He had someone else with him. That would be your father, wouldn’t it?’

Emma blinked. ‘It was—’

‘Actually,’ Mr Slick put up a hand, ‘I think this is a perfect place for a pause. My client and I need to confer.’

Mother shrugged. ‘Call it, Andy.’

‘Interview suspended at twenty-one minutes past midnight.’ He stood. ‘We’ll be outside when you’re ready to talk.’

And the screen went blank.

Franklin groaned. ‘Just as they were getting somewhere.’

‘I’m genuinely sorry, you know.’ Callum swivelled his seat round to face her. ‘If I could take it back, I would.’

‘Whatever idiot thought it was a good idea to let slimebags have a lawyer present during questioning, needs a good hard kick in the balls.’

‘I should never have tried to kiss you.’

‘“No comment” this and “I don’t remember” that.’

‘I’m serious. Can we just go back to how it was before?’

Franklin rolled her eyes. Took a deep breath. ‘All right, all right. Just... stop apologising. It’s like watching a puppy grovel for scraps.’

‘You’re probably a crap kisser anyway.’

She scowled. ‘I happen to be a great kisser, thank you very much.’

‘I promise I’ll never try to find out if that’s true.’

‘Deal.’

‘I don’t know, maybe a pizza or something? There’s a takeaway on Harvest Lane that’s open till three. They’ll deliver.’

Franklin dug back into her packet of Wotsits. ‘Suppose it’s better than nothing.’

‘Or, if you like curry, there’s...’

The screen flickered back into life. ‘Interview resumed at six minutes to one. Present: Detective Inspector Flora Malcolmson, DS Andrew McAdams, Miss Emma Travis-Wilkes, and Mr Reginald Flynn.’ McAdams sat back in his chair.

Mother nodded. ‘Well, Emma?’

She licked her lips. Stared down at the tabletop. ‘My father wasn’t in the white Range Rover with Leo McVey, it was me. I borrowed the car to go get more vodka and Uncle Leo came with me. He was already pretty wasted — we’d been drinking and snorting cocaine all day — so when I saw the family in that lay-by and decided to abduct them, he had no idea what was going on. I drove them off to the middle of the countryside and I killed them. I don’t remember where, so there’s no point asking. I dismembered the bodies and kept some parts in the freezer.’

‘I see.’ Mother tapped her fingers against the tabletop. ‘And how old were you at this point?’