Denise Mina - Deception aka Sanctum

Здесь есть возможность читать онлайн «Denise Mina - Deception aka Sanctum» весь текст электронной книги совершенно бесплатно (целиком полную версию без сокращений). В некоторых случаях можно слушать аудио, скачать через торрент в формате fb2 и присутствует краткое содержание. Жанр: Триллер, на английском языке. Описание произведения, (предисловие) а так же отзывы посетителей доступны на портале библиотеки ЛибКат.

Deception aka Sanctum: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «Deception aka Sanctum»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

Lachlan Harriot is in a state of shock. His wife Susie has been convicted of the murder of serial killer Andrew Gow, a prisoner in her care. Unless Harriot can come up with grounds for an appeal in two weeks' time, Susie will be given a life sentence, depriving her of her home, her family and her two-year-old daughter.
Harriot is convinced that his wife, a respected forensic psychiatrist, is innocent, and each night climbs the stairs to Susie's study where he goes through her papers, laboriously transcribing onto his computer her case notes, her interviews with Gow and his new wife Donna, and the press cuttings from the trial. But his search for the truth soon raises more questions than answers.
Why had Susie stolen a set of prison files and then lied about it? What was the precise nature of her relationship with Gow? And, most importantly, what is it in her study that she doesn't want her husband to find? As the documents on Harriot's computer begin to multiply, his perception of what really happened between Gow and Susie becomes ever more complex. But first he must decide what he's to do with a discovery that involves violence, sexual obsession, lust and ultimate betrayal.
In her first stand-alone novel following her acclaimed Garnethill trilogy, Denise Mina looks at the shifting sands that separate fact and fiction, perception and reality, responsibility and culpability. Sanctum is a powerful psychological portrait of people living on the edge, an account of the deals with the devil that lie beneath their apparent respectability, and the terrifying journeys they are prepared to make in order to survive.

Deception aka Sanctum — читать онлайн бесплатно полную книгу (весь текст) целиком

Ниже представлен текст книги, разбитый по страницам. Система сохранения места последней прочитанной страницы, позволяет с удобством читать онлайн бесплатно книгу «Deception aka Sanctum», без необходимости каждый раз заново искать на чём Вы остановились. Поставьте закладку, и сможете в любой момент перейти на страницу, на которой закончили чтение.

Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

The induction group wore a blue uniform, which is supposed to strip them of their individuality, but for me, watching through the barred windows, the uniform made them all matter, made them all potential friends and neighbors. Convicted prisoners didn’t seem real to us then. Susie was innocent and she was getting out on bail anyway. Her biggest problem at that time was getting to the bail hearing on the Big Blue Bus.

The blue security-reinforced minibus starts its morning journey at six-thirty a.m. with a pickup of the accused women, including for a short while my dear wife, from the Vale of Leven, Her Majesty’s Prison. After traveling all over the central beltway picking up single and multiple miscreants hither and thither from any secure holding place, the BBB doubles back on itself and two and a half hours later sheds its load at the Glasgow High and Sheriff Courts. The wheels on the justice bus go round and round and round. As Susie said herself, a three-hour bus drive at six-thirty in the morning would be nightmare enough, without the added burden of ten traveling companions, many hungover or coming off drugs, who are about to meet their families and (not always the worse of the two) their doom.

A fat woman from Falkirk tried to talk to her. Susie said she swung her big red face over to her and said all men were bad news, kept calling her “my friend.” Her new chum complained that the police had put her into a cell with a sleeping man. Evidently, they were confused as to her gender. Susie did a great impression of her accent. “I says to the polis-man, ‘Fit’s this oen ma chest, well? Them’s tits!’ ”

Susie was so glad to get bail and be allowed to go home. She went for occasional meetings with Fitzgerald, but other than that we just stayed in. Mostly we sat around and watched TV, and she came down from this study to eat with us. She wouldn’t let me touch her, though, and she didn’t want to talk about any of it. Every time I asked about Gow or Donna or her going off to Durness, her eyes would fill up and she’d say, please, Lachie, please, just till after, be my friend. I am your friend, Susie, but I want to know, I need to know. I’d plead with her, stroking her hand, afraid I was begging. Please, Lachie, please, just leave it. And then she’d punish me by hiding up here for hours at a time.

I wish she were downstairs, sleeping, breathing deep and slow, feeding on the air inside our safe, dark house. And in the morning I could take her up a big milky coffee and toast and apricot jam and open the window and let the smell of the garden in.

Shit shitshitshit shit shitishitshit shit shit.

* * *

I can’t think of Susie today without seeing her in the Vale, walking endlessly back and forth across grass in the shitting rain, being forced to sit through disappointing talks, told to expect nothing ever again, and trained in the disappointed walk. Maybe she can’t get to a phone. Maybe they don’t let them phone out when they’re in the induction course.

* * *

I’ve got to find something for this appeal. I’ve emptied out two boxes of receipts into a bag and I’ll use them to keep potential appeal papers together.

* * *

Box 1. Formal papers: Gow’s prison file, plus all the formal papers from Susie’s trial.

Box 2. Less formal stuff from plastic bag under this desk: Susie’s collection of newspaper and magazines articles re Donna, the wedding, and Gow, plus video and cassette tapes.

* * *

I’m afraid Gow will be on the video and it’ll creep me out, knowing he’s dead and how he died. I’ve hidden the tape under the papers in the box. I will watch it, but not just now.

Box 1 Document 1 Indictment

It is hereby charged that you, Susan Louise Emma Harriot, née Wilkens, of 7 Orchard Lane, Dowanhill, on September 26, 1998, did assault Andrew Alfred Gow, then residing at The Firs, Lenzie Road, Kirkintilloch. It is charged that you did stab him in the chest and throat, remove his tongue with knives and pliers or similar instruments at The Bothy, Inshore Loch, Cape Wrath, or elsewhere in Scotland, to his severe injury, and you did murder him.

It is further charged that you did assault Mrs. Donna Helen Gow, née McGovern, there or elsewhere in Scotland and you did murder her.

This whole second para was crossed out.

* * *

Mum phoned this morning and left a shrill message. She heard about the trial on the news and said she’ll come over if I don’t call her at once. I heard Dad coughing furiously in the background. I need a visit from my parents like a twisted testicle.

They’ve never liked Susie, they don’t understand children, and they complain about not being warm all the time they’re away from Spain. But they do worry about me. They’ll read the papers and the speculation about the sentence, which was all exaggerated, of course.

I hope none of their friends out there saw the photos of me. I often feel that I’ve gone from being their son to a thing they boast about to their friends, a form of social leverage. A doctor? No, qualified as a doctor but got out before all his friends. Saw it was a career trap- leave out the reason: that I couldn’t stand the incessant contact with random people. Leave out the fact of my disenchantment with working, my house-husbanding career, and skip straight to- wife’s a doctor, of course, dear Susan, a psychiatrist, so clever. Mum often asks me to send a BIG card to Dad or phone friends of hers I’ve met once or twice to inquire after their grandchild/trip home. It’s all about appearances. It would matter so much to them if I’m in the papers and recognizable. I’d hate to shame them, especially Dad. They’re dejected at my progress as it is. I haven’t the confidence to tell them about my writing in case nothing ever comes of it.

* * *

I went back into town to pick up the car this afternoon. It’s been there for two days. Miraculously, it didn’t have a ticket on it, but someone had scratched a long line into the paintwork on the driver’s side. It was bizarre being back there. It seemed very quiet. Bits of paper fluttering through the narrow streets. Pink vomit on the pavement. People walking past me without a second glance. I felt invisible enough to walk up the steps of the court. This is how it’ll be now. My days of being a minor, provincial celebrity are over and no one’ll remember except those sick fucks who take an interest in such things. I’d like that very much. I stood at the top of the stairs and looked out over the green. The view’s completely different when you’re standing upright.

When I got back home, a few camera crews were sitting in folding metal chairs outside the wall, watching the wooden door to the garden. They weren’t here during the trial and don’t seem to have noticed the back door to the alley. Maybe they do know about it but can’t get their trucks down there. They saw the garage door open before they noticed my car and scrabbled around, shouting at each other, pulling the cameras off the tripod and running over to the car. The automatic door seemed to take forever to open. Just as they were halfway across the road I took my foot off the brake and let the car roll in, pressing the remote button so that the door began to shut. I almost clipped the back of the Saab. One of the crews was Japanese. Why on earth would the Japanese be interested in this? They’re probably still out there, filming the garden wall.

* * *

I’m beginning to realize how ill-equipped I am for this. I’ve been waiting for Susie to ring and tell me she’s arrived and settled in safely, as if she’d gone to a professional conference or a hen weekend in Dublin. I can’t get my head around her being away. I went to the shop on the way home and bought Jesti-jesters. I’ve got a cupboard full of Susie’s favorite biscuits, and she won’t be home for ten years. I’m still sleeping on one side of the bed, putting the lights out as soon as I lie down in case I wake her.

Читать дальше
Тёмная тема
Сбросить

Интервал:

Закладка:

Сделать

Похожие книги на «Deception aka Sanctum»

Представляем Вашему вниманию похожие книги на «Deception aka Sanctum» списком для выбора. Мы отобрали схожую по названию и смыслу литературу в надежде предоставить читателям больше вариантов отыскать новые, интересные, ещё непрочитанные произведения.


Denise Mina - Exile
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Field of Blood
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Still Midnight
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Resolution
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Garnethill
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Muerte en Glasgow
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Campo De Sangre
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - The Dead Hour
Denise Mina
Denise Mina - Slip of the Knife
Denise Mina
Отзывы о книге «Deception aka Sanctum»

Обсуждение, отзывы о книге «Deception aka Sanctum» и просто собственные мнения читателей. Оставьте ваши комментарии, напишите, что Вы думаете о произведении, его смысле или главных героях. Укажите что конкретно понравилось, а что нет, и почему Вы так считаете.

x