Stuart MacBride - A Song for the Dying

‘Bear?’

Jacobson grinned. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

‘Then Superintendent Knight can keep Mr Henderson and Dr McDonald company. Rhona — as soon as you’ve got the link set up, get back to the team. He’s got Jessica McFee hidden away somewhere: I want her found.’

Ness marched out, back straight, chin up. Jacobson sauntered along behind her, hands in his pockets, whistling.

Rhona picked a remote control from the cabinet in the corner and fiddled with it until the big screen filled with a view of Interview Room Two. She placed the remote on the table. Grinned. ‘Great job, Guv. Knew you’d do it.’

I looked up at the empty room that filled the screen. ‘We’ve not burst him yet.’

‘Yeah, but we will.’ She backed towards the exit. Held up both thumbs. ‘Anyway, got to go chase up those-’

‘Rhona? Do me a favour — get onto the secure psychiatric ward at CHI and see if they’ve got any record of Docherty visiting either Ruth Laughlin or Marie Jordan, OK?’

‘Err… Yeah, sure, no problem.’ She slipped out and closed the door behind her.

Knight pulled out a chair, almost settled into it, then stood again. Cleared his throat. ‘Would anyone like a tea, or a coffee?’

Talk about overcompensating.

Alice wrapped an arm around herself, the other hand working its way through the curls of her hair. ‘If he’s giving a statement it’s so he can mitigate our finding the trophies. He’s not going to admit to abducting Jessica, Laura, and Ruth, killing Claire or any of the others. This will all be a big misunderstanding and he’s desperately sorry about that, but he’s not the man we’re looking for, that man is still out there and that’s why he’s doing the decent thing and coming forward at this time.’

I sank into one of the conference chairs. ‘Where does he take them?’

‘If it’s a house, it’s a place he’s known for years, it takes a lot of effort to set up an operating room, time and money, and you’ve got to know your investment’s secure, I mean what if someone breaks in? They’ll see everything, and it’s not as if he’s in Oldcastle all the time, he’s off around the country, helping the police with their enquiries, so what makes this place safer than anywhere else…?’

A PC appeared on the big flat screen, followed by Dr Frederic Docherty — hands cuffed in front of him. A thin woman in a dark suit followed them in: short grey hair, pinched face, nails pointed and scarlet. Docherty waited for her to sit, then squeezed himself into the chair next to her. Bit awkward, what with it being bolted to the floor, but he managed.

Bruises spread across the skin beneath his eyes. A plaster sat across the bridge of his nose. Another bruise at the corner of his mouth.

Poor baby.

The PC took up position behind Docherty and stood there, picking his nails, killing time. Probably done this hundreds of times before. Knew the routine off by heart. Lead the suspect in, sit him down, and let him sweat for a bit.

One minute.

Two.

Five.

Fifteen.

And all the time Docherty just sat there, still and calm, a little smile pulling one side of his face out of line. Of course, he knew the routine too…

Finally, Ness walked in, put her phone in her pocket, and took the seat closest to the door, with her back to the camera. Jacobson took the last slot, rubbed his hands together, then went through the usual date, time, and caution bits.

I turned the volume up.

Docherty’s lawyer pulled out a sheet of paper and pursed her lips at it. ‘ My client has authorized me to read the following statement. He’s aware that there will be certain factions within the investigation who will put a very negative interpretation on the alleged discoveries this afternoon, but- ’

‘ Negative interpretation? ’ Ness leaned forward, head tilted to one side. ‘ He was found with a collection of trophies from the- ’

‘ Please, Detective Superintendent, we’ll get through this much quicker if you can contain your outbursts until I’ve finished .’ She flicked the paper out. ‘ My client deeply regrets any confusion he has inadvertently caused by removing the items from evidence. These were used to facilitate his understanding of the unknown suspect you are pursuing. He felt that keeping these so called “trophies” close by would help him get into the mindset of your killer. The photographs and evidence of masturbation were part of that attempt, and something he found deeply distasteful, but felt necessary. Far from being censured, Dr Docherty deserves your praise for going above and beyond the call of duty to rescue Jessica McFee and bring Claire Young’s killer to justice. ’

Sitting next to her, Docherty nodded, then spread his hands wide. ‘ Detective Superintendent, I understand that my actions might look suspect to those unfamiliar with my methodology .’ He gave a little shrug, combined with a little smile. ‘ It was my responsibility to make sure that you and the other senior officers were aware of my processes, and it was an error of judgement on my part to have kept that from you. I apologize for that. Unreservedly .’ He clasped his cuffed hands together. ‘ But I’m sure you can see now that this is all just a misunderstanding. A case of someone trying a bit too hard to get the right result. ’ His eyebrows pinched above that self-deprecating smile. ‘ For the victims. ’

Staring up at the TV screen, Knight wriggled in his seat. ‘Dr McDonald, is that … standard practice for forensic psychologists?’

‘Well, everyone works in their own way, but certainly I’ve never heard of anyone doing it, then again why would I, I mean it’s not like they’re going to say, “Hey, you’ll never guess what I was up to last night with a box of tissues and some photos of dead women…”’ Pink rushed up her cheeks. ‘I mean, no, it’s not normal. Is it getting warm in here?’

On screen, Ness drummed her fingers on the table. Thumping out a little tattoo while Dr Docherty sat in perfect stillness opposite. ‘ And you really expect us to believe that, do you? ’

He leaned in, cranked the sincerity up a notch. ‘ I’m coming forward at this time to prevent the investigation from stalling. To stop you from diverting your attention from the real issue. The Inside Man is still out there. We need to re-examine the evidence and move on. ’

Jacobson shook his head. ‘ There is no “we” any more, Dr Docherty. ’ He produced a small evidence bag and placed it on the table, a sliver of orange just visible through the clear plastic. That would be the syringe cap. ‘ Care to explain why you purchased Thiopental Sodium from a Mr Angus Boyle, also known as “Boxer”, a nurse at Castle Hill Infirmary? It’s a surgical anaesthetic .’ Jacobson leaned forwards in his seat. ‘ Have you been performing surgery? ’

Docherty wrinkled his nose and dipped his head. Silly me, how could I forget to mention that?

He gave Ness a smile. ‘ That’s part of the process I should have told you about. At low doses it can act as a mild consciousness suppressant. Dr Henry Forrester would suppress his with whisky before beginning a profile. Dr McDonald does the same. After much experimentation, I’ve found Thiopental Sodium works best for me .’ Another shrug, hands spread palm-upward. ‘ But I can understand why you’d be confused about that. ’

Alice wandered over to the screen, staring up at the interview. ‘Can we talk to her?’

I pulled the conference phone over. ‘What’s Ness’s mobile number?’

Knight reached into his pocket and came out with a BlackBerry. ‘She did say Dr McDonald wasn’t to consult.’