Stuart MacBride - A Dark So Deadly

‘Twenty-one.’

‘Twenty-one? My, my, my. And did you and Leo McVey kill anyone else?’

‘Uncle Leo didn’t kill anyone. He’d passed out from the drink. I did it. All on my own. When he woke up that evening, I told him I’d let the family go. He doesn’t know what I did.’

‘Right. You see, the trouble is: I don’t believe you.’

‘It’s the truth. And I have nothing further to say.’

Mr Slick nodded. ‘You’ve had a full confession from my client. She won’t be answering any further questions.’

The custody area was nearly deserted, but the sounds of singing and swearing echoed through from the cell blocks. An after-midnight serenade, fuelled by cheap lager and low IQ.

Callum shuffled in and up to the desk — an oversized pulpit decorated with computer monitors and public safety posters. A stick insect in an ill-fitting wig sat behind it, leaning over a copy of the Castle News and Post , propping up his long thin face on one fist.

He didn’t look up.

So Callum banged a hand down on the countertop. ‘Shop.’

A flinch. Then he raised his head and pulled on a pair of oversized glasses. ‘Ah, Constable MacGregor. We’ve been expecting you.’

Silence.

‘Can we make this quick, Sarge, only it’s been a really long day.’

‘Of course we can. It would be my most delightful pleasure.’ He rescued a mouse from beneath a stack of paperwork and wriggled it. Clicking away. ‘Ah, here we are. Two things. One: when you’re processing suspects, try not to cock up the DNA portion of the proceedings. It makes the rest of our lives a lot easier. And Two: your custody from this afternoon wants a word and he wants it with you.’

‘Tell him to go screw himself, because I’m going home.’

A jagged smile. ‘That’s hardly the caring and compassionate face of Police Scotland we’re tasked with presenting, is it, Constable?’

‘Someone tried to bash my brains in today. A friend was shot and killed. I’ve been battered and bruised and humiliated. And I don’t give a toss what some spoiled rap-star wank-badger wants. I’m — going — home.’

‘He’s up before the Sheriff at ten tomorrow morning. Make sure you see him before then.’

‘I’d love to! Only I’ve been suspended without pay, so Mr Newman can go crap in his hat.’

Sergeant Stick Insect’s eyes widened, magnified out of all proportion by his big glasses. ‘Constable MacGregor, language!’

‘Bye, Sarge.’ Then he turned and marched out into the corridor, through the double doors, and away into the rain.

Mother glanced up at the clock on the office wall. ‘Well, we’ll just have to start without him.’

Which meant it was just Callum, Dotty, Franklin, and Mother for Monday morning prayers. No McAdams.

She clapped her hands together. ‘First order of business: the doctors say John’s going to be in the high-dependency ward for at least a couple of days, but it looks like he’ll be fine. Ish. There might be some brain damage, but they won’t know till he wakes up.’

Dotty stuck up her hand. ‘I’ve got a card for everyone to sign.’ She held that up as well — something with a teddy bear on crutches surrounded by love hearts. ‘GET WELL SOON!!!’ in big letters. ‘And I’ve started a whip-round too. Maybe get him something nice so he knows we’re all thinking of him.’

‘Second: Bob Shannon and Raymond Montgomery Travis are down for post mortem today, starting at ten, if anyone wants to volunteer? Anyone? No?’ A shrug. ‘Fine, Rosalind, you can do those.’

Franklin sagged. ‘Not again .’

‘Emma Travis-Wilkes has confessed to the murder of Robert Michael Shannon, the murder of her father, and the attempted murder of DC Callum MacGregor. She’s also confessed to the abduction and murder of Callum’s parents and brother, and an unspecified number of other victims. Which I’m a hundred percent sure is a lie, but can’t get her to admit it. She’s up before the Sheriff at twelve — expect “remanded without bail” and “sentencing to follow psychiatric reports”. But I’ll eat my own fleece if she gets less than thirty years.’

Callum folded his arms. ‘What about the freezers?’

‘SEB are calling in the forensic anthropologists from Dundee Uni. Could take weeks to work out what’s human and what’s not. How long it takes to identify who the bits came from in the first place is anyone’s guess. Maybe years.’ Mother perched her backside on Watt’s empty desk. ‘Which brings us onto a sticky subject.’ She pointed. ‘Callum is officially suspended without pay, pending an investigation into the aggravated assault on Detective Chief Inspector Reece Powel. If anyone asks, and I mean anyone — don’t care if it’s your best mate, your mum, or the blessed Chief Superintendent himself — you tell them Callum’s here as a witness on the Travis-Wilkes case, and that’s all. He is not working on any other cases. Understood?’

Franklin and Dotty nodded.

Callum frowned out at them. ‘Just so you know, I didn’t touch Poncy Powel. If anyone battered him, it was Ainsley Dugdale. Not me.’

‘Just here as a witness, remember?’

He stared up at the manky ceiling tiles. ‘Yes, Boss.’

‘We’re going back to the beginning. Tod Monaghan worked at Strummuir Smokehouse, so did one of his victims, and another victim did a course there. I know we’ve already interviewed every employee, but we need to do it again. Who did Monaghan hang out with? Did he mention any friends from outside work? Who was he killing with? Ask, ask, and ask again.’ She clapped her hands together. ‘Right now, Ashlee Gossard has the tiniest, slimmest, most infinitesimal chance of still being alive. Get out there and find her.’

Cecelia was hunched over her desk, poking away at her computer. Most of her long brown hair was tucked back, out of the way, but a strand of it — about as thick as a finger — disappeared into the corner of her mouth. Making little sooking noises as she chewed.

Callum knocked on the doorframe. ‘Did your mother never tell you about that?’

‘Gah!’ Bolt upright, soggy hair swinging loose again. ‘Don’t sneak up on people, it’s rude.’

‘I got hauled in by the rubber heelers yesterday. Chief Inspector Gilmore told me he’d heard rumours I was covering for Elaine at that crime scene. Care to explain why?’

She pulled a face. ‘Ah. Yes. No. No idea.’

‘You’re a terrible person, you know that don’t you?’