A Wife Worth Dying For

by Wilson Smillie

  He dropped a single black stocking onto the table.

  53

  Tough Love

  Between them, Rocketman and his tech processed the stocking. Giving it an inventory tag, Tech packaged it up and took it away. More techs arrived to rescue the remaining items.

  Rocketman addressed the assembled group with a tight jaw. ‘I apologise.’ A twitch appeared at his temple. ‘We’ve uncovered a crucial piece of evidence. I’ll open an investigation into how it was missed, but it could be an issue in a trial. The Chief won’t be happy. Meantime, we’ll get it analysed. I’ll let you know the results as soon as possible.’ He turned on his heel and walked from the room.

  Dr Flowers looked at her watch. ‘It’s nearly nine. What else can we do tonight?’

  On a dreich night in January, the Raeburn bar was virtually empty, so they had their seating choice. A bay window with a decent-sized table and a view of anyone coming in did the job. With put-upon cheer, the waitress delivered two pints of IPA, a large glass of Malbec for Flowers and an equally large glass of Tempranillo for Garcia. Carter voiced the thought he’d spent the last few hours wrangling in his head. ‘This formally confirms that J, Alice and Kelsa are connected.’

  ‘You’re in this up to your neck, Leccy,’ Mason retorted. ‘For fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Fuck him,’ Carter stated. ‘Knickers on the table, stockings on the bed, now matched – and likely to have DNA from Alice, Kelsa and an untraceable male. Not a tenuous connection: a fucking mile-long chain of deception.’

  ‘Can’t fault your logic there, Leccy,’ said Mason. ‘But he’s planned very far ahead. So much so that Alice’s rape wasn’t a spontaneous action driven by lustful opportunity.’

  Dr Flowers butted in. ‘His plan goes way beyond Alice. He planted her handbag in the tree. He’s used her as his messenger, and the fact she’s suffered life-changing injuries at his hand proves, without doubt, he’s psychopathic. He believes he can exert power over anyone. But Alice isn’t the only victim here.’ Flowers continued to talk to Mason as if making a pitch to keep her job. ‘My theory is he was Kelsa’s lover sometime in the past.’

  ‘So, maybe he raped Kelsa too,’ mused Mason. ‘He’s got some of her clothing – which I’d say she didn’t hand over willingly.’

  ‘We don’t know that for sure,’ said Carter, necking the remains of his pint. ‘There might be a way to find out, but we’d have to agree it’s a valid theory and we’d need to set up a case file to log evidence. He might even have murdered her.’

  ‘Steady, Lone Ranger,’ said Mason. ‘Let’s not get carried away. Any “Js” on Kelsa’s side of the family?’

  ‘James Dunsmuir,’ Carter said. ‘While we didn’t get on, I don’t see him raping his own daughter out of an abundance of hatred for me.’

  The waitress brought another round, in a much less cheerful mood than last time, then Mason picked up where he left off. ‘Leccy, I think these relentless text messages and Kelsa’s death is blinding your judgement.’

  ‘Don’t even think about taking me off this case, Nick,’ pleaded Carter, pouring beer down his throat like it was his last. ‘Just don’t,’

  ‘I think that would be counter-productive, Nick,’ said Dr Flowers, with one eye warning Carter to let her make his case. ‘He’s a bit delicate, but this investigation may be the only thing keeping him going right now. And, when he focuses, he comes up good. Look at tonight: you wanted to close it down, but he kept at it, and he found what we all thought was only a fantasy – now it’s evidence.’

  ‘You need to see Kelsa as a victim, Leccy.’ Mason didn’t give any sign that he agreed with Dr Flowers’ assessment. ‘She died in childbirth, was it? Unusual these days, I’d say.’

  ‘Anorexia complicated by clinical depression after childbirth,’ Dr Flowers clarified.

  ‘And before the birth, before the pregnancy – how was she?’

  Carter sat forward with the thousand-yard look on his face, addressing his monologue to Mason. ‘We were happy, we’d been married only a few months. For the few months after she knew she was pregnant, she bloomed. Then, in late summer, the shine went out of her. She got progressively more ill. The doctors were concerned about the baby, and they took her into hospital and started force-feeding her. She didn’t take it well. That was a difficult time. She held on so she could birth Nathaniel and love him. I hoped things would change then, that she’d put her energy into living, but – she didn’t.’

  Charli Garcia reached out and held his arm, tears rolling down her face.

  ‘I am here for you, Leccy, if you need me.’

  ‘It all seems to trace back to that weekend in March when she didn’t come home,’ he said finally.

  ‘Leccy, it’s time you learned to be a cold hard bastard of a copper.’ Nick Mason was unsympathetic. ‘For her sake if no one else’s. J will put you in the grave with her at this rate. Lisa can wipe your tears and soothe your brow, but I’ll break your fucking head if he walks away while you’re contemplating the fluff between your gonads. Now finish that pint because you’ve got a lot more drinking to do. Service!’

  54

  Head Fuck

  Next morning, the hangover was a belter. After leaving the Raeburn, they had headed into town. Both Dr Flowers and Charli Garcia dropped out quickly. He vaguely remembered seeing them in Hamilton’s, but after that, it was mostly a blur. Nick Mason had poured him into a taxi around 1 a.m., almost consigning the evening to history.

  When he woke, he knew something else had happened during the night. The reviving hot shower gave him a corner of the jigsaw: he’d texted someone. He dried himself while running through the options. Dr Flowers was his bet, but why? He couldn’t remember what he’d said but began to worry it was something inappropriate.

  He got dressed in the bedroom but couldn’t find his phone; it wasn’t on the bedside table, wrapped up in the bedsheets or lying on the floor. He finally found it on the mat at the front door, like it had been posted through his letterbox. He picked it up, unlocked it and started to check his texts when he saw the now-familiar SMS nano-app with its pulsing red dot.

  ‘What’s next you conniving bastard?’

  [2019-01-22:0416] You’re mouthy with the drink, but you’re catching up quickly. I’ll use your key when I’m thirsty. You’ll eat your own words before my vengeance is satisfied. J.

  The memory of texting in bed persisted. Slowly the mists rolled back. J had given him a ‘reply’ button, and they’d texted back and forth exchanging words. Angry words, swear words, words of violence and recrimination, and for him, the vitriol had poured out like a dam bursting. Finally, he was able to answer his tormentor’s insults. But even these responses were calculated and drawn from him by J’s skill. Carter knew he was being played and had gone along for the ride, full of the confidence that comes from alcohol. But J was preparing the ground and timing of every exchange. His words kept Carter looking backwards, while he set the traps in front for Carter to walk into voluntarily. By the end, all that was visible on his phone was J’s damning threat.

  J wasn’t only stalking him electronically; he was tracking him on the streets. He was on the bus Carter took to work, followed him by taxi, and was sitting in bars watching him drink, listening to his private conversations. He was in the police station looking over his shoulder at the thin file of evidence against him. And at one time, he’d worn Carter’s shoes, dressed in his suits and made love every night to his wife.

  J was well and truly inside Carter’s head, where he’d planned to be all along.

  55

  Talk is Cheap

  Carter caught the 31 bus. Stumbling off it at Rankeillor Street, he walked gingerly to where the road joined St Leonard’s Street. He was still over the driving limit and not at his brightest. Tam Watson manned the front desk, as usual.

  ‘Morning, Leccy. You look like the fag end of a great night oot.’

  ‘Always known you were sharp, Tam. Is DI Mason in yet?’
/>   ‘Nah.’

  ‘DCI McKinlay?’

  Tam Watson put his elbows on the desk and motioned for Carter to come closer. ‘She’s on special leave,’ he whispered. ‘A week at least, I heard. Someone said she’d crossed swords with Chief Super Goodwin and she’s been suspended.’ He tapped his nose.

  ‘Right,’ said Carter. ‘That could be a problem. She’s kept the wolf pack at bay. Is Nick taking her place?’

  ‘Nah, someone from the MIT, I think.’

  Carter pushed away from the desk and walked tentatively up the stairs. Police Scotland had been wringing itself out for a long time now, its political masters using oversight of operational matters for their advantage. Allegations of bullying and wrongdoing were rife. It wasn’t a surprise that McKinlay had been caught up in shenanigans, not of her liking. Carter just hoped he could stay on the case and wouldn’t get swept away in the inevitable purge that was sure to follow.

  DC Garcia was waiting for him in the detectives’ room.

  ‘Morning, Leccy. This is a wonderful day.’

  ‘You’re far too bright, Charli. You should be feeling wabbit like me.’

  ‘What’s “wabbit”?’ she asked.

  ‘Lethargic, limp, not quite together.’

  ‘Ha,’ she nodded. ‘These Scottish words are so descriptive.’

  He removed and hung up his Crombie, then wandered over to her desk, pulling up a chair beside her. ‘What time did you get here this morning?’ he asked.

  ‘Six-thirty. When it’s quiet, I like it. Look at this.’

  Her screen showed a Google map of Dalry with a handful of red dots indicating InterMide mobile phones.

  ‘I eliminated all non-InterMide accounts who spoke with me, and I have here the remainder, including Alice. I reversed time to before she came into the bar. You’d say the accuracy is not reliable. Whatever, she came in the bar together with Joe Moore – whose number rings twice then goes to voicemail. To say he was with her?’ she shrugged her shoulders. ‘He could have been following her, yet in this time, they are absent from the bar together, then they are present together.’

  ‘Jacky Dodds?’ asked Carter.

  ‘Let me check,’ she said, racing through the Excel cells at a rate that impressed Carter. Clearly, she was big-data literate. ‘He has giffgaff, one of the cheap operators. I’ll add him into the play and re-run it.’

  They watched the animation as dots moved around. ‘Dodds is already in the bar with Nathan Butler when Alice arrives, but both leave about thirty minutes before her.’

  ‘He’s walking home with Butler,’ Carter said, watching the screen progress. ‘We know this, but Dodds said Butler wasn’t there. I don’t know how Dodds knows someone like Butler and Butler’s home is in the opposite direction.’

  ‘Butler’s phone was in the bar, but he said it had been stolen.’

  ‘The dots are overlapping,’ Carter said.

  ‘So are Alice and Joe Moore.’

  ‘Butler must’ve been pickpocketed by Dodds, as he said. Either way, Dodds or Butler weren’t near Alice during the rape timeframe. That leaves us with Joe Moore. You said you’d not managed to speak to him. Run the play with just him and her.’

  She set it up, removed all other phones and ran it. Moore’s phone hovered around Alice’s phone in the bar, even when the magnification was increased. Once she left the bar, within a few seconds, his phone disappeared.

  ‘What do you think, Leccy?’ she asked, with a look that said her mind was certain.

  ‘It’s hard to tell if Moore is with her, but he was close before and during the time in the bar. Then no more signal. Dead battery? Maybe. Or he’s switched it off deliberately. So, either he’s following her, or he’s with her, but for me, he’s now number one suspect. Track him down, all you can get on him—address, job, birth certificate, wife, driver’s licence, passport. You know the score: priority. Bring in Ellen to help if you need to. I want a full profile and picture of him at least, and current whereabouts, as soon as you can. DI Mason will sign off any multi-agency requests.’

  Carter stood up and put on the Crombie. ‘I’ll be out for a wee while, but text me with any news or issues. Have you reviewed the DVDs you took from Alice’s flat? What about her laptop?’

  ‘You were to watch the DVDs,’ she scolded him. ‘It might be important.’

  ‘Damn! I’m sorry, I forgot. Too much on my mind. Ask Ellen to upload them into ICRS when you get a minute? Text me the URL.’

  ‘I am on it,’ said DC Garcia, excited that she was now leading a man-hunt. ‘One more thing. Another InterMide phone was in the bar that might interest you. It came before Alice and went shortly before her leaving.’

  ‘And who might it belong to?’

  ‘Your Scottish comedian,’ Garcia grinned. ‘Jimmy Logan.’

  56

  Legal Difficulties

  Forty-five minutes later Carter was sitting uncomfortably in Tommy McGregor’s office, staring up at the signed Hibernian football strip hanging on the wall, contemplating Garcia’s revelation.

  It shouldn’t have been surprise-surprise that Logan was in his own bar the night Alice and Moore were there. Back in the pre-history of the investigation, a quid pro quo with Logan would have been out of the question. Now he’d give anything to see Moore sitting across the interview table from him. Almost.

  ‘An interdict is a legal warning to “cease and desist”,’ McGregor had told Carter by phone the previous day. ‘Technically, as the Sheriff has declined to press charges, no sanction can be applied against you, provided you abide by its terms. The interdict will not show on a disclosure search and could stay in effect for years. It’s a blunt instrument, but effective nonetheless because the subject can’t claim they don’t know about it. That’s why they’re always served by Sheriff’s officers.’

  ‘And in my job?’ Carter asked, deciding not to complicate matters by telling McGregor he had secret access to Nathaniel. Judith could confess to her husband at any moment.

  ‘I’d consult the Police Scotland HR policy. A detective can’t do his job if an interdict prevents him from accessing named property and people. I’d suspect you’ll be suspended at least. Might even be accused of bringing the force into disrepute, leading to disciplinary action—’

  ‘I’d be fired,’ Carter interrupted, with some resentment.

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘You’d like that, eh? One less copper to hassle your clients.’

  There had been an awkward silence on the line after that one landed. But now he was sipping his brief’s coffee with no added bitterness. Face to face, McGregor’s greeting had been as inscrutable and business-like as ever.

  ‘I’ll begin with the easy stuff,’ McGregor said as Carter’s coffee slipped down smoothly. ‘As Nathaniel’s father, your rights trump the interdict. On hearing new circumstances, Sheriff Robertson would swat it away.’

  ‘I’d have to appear at court?’

  ‘Not necessary – it’s been issued by a Sheriff and has to be annulled by the same Sheriff. But there are two problems we need to discuss first.’

  ‘What might they be?’ Carter knew criminal defence lawyers were experts at solving their clients’ problems. Even when said client was accosted by police clutching a bloody chib in one hand while standing over his dying victim.

  McGregor opened a file on his desk and sat forward on his black leather chair. He removed a single sheet of paper, made sure it faced the right way and slid it across to Carter. ‘The scanned copy of Nathaniel’s birth certificate, showing it was lodged by Sheriff Dunsmuir a few weeks ago, as he said.’

  Carter scanned it. ‘OK.’

  ‘The father’s entry—’

  Carter focused, finding the section. His face turned as white as the paper the certificate was printed on. ‘What! Has the old bastard gone mad? I fucking knew it—’

  ‘No visible entry,’ McGregor confirmed evenly. ‘Technically, that means the father has chosen to remain anonymous.
While the interdict is in place, you cannot speak to him about why it is what it is.’

  ‘But you can, can’t you? You’re my solicitor, you’re not bound by the terms of the interdict.’

  ‘Then there’s the second problem.’

  ‘What could possibly be worse than this?’ Carter said, his mind reeling.

  ‘Technically, you and Kelsa were not married.’

  ‘That can’t be,’ Carter shook his head in disbelief. ‘The marriage registration—’

  ‘Doesn’t exist,’ McGregor stated with an assurance Carter knew saw him up a dead end. ‘No mistake. I’ve had the registrars of Lothian, West Lothian, Borders and Glasgow searching their systems going back to the date of your Las Vegas trip. Nothing.’

  ‘So—’ Carter floundered.

  ‘We can’t lift the interdict, for a start,’ McGregor said. ‘You can’t prove you’re the father. Normally, when Daddy comes to his senses and seeks to remedy the situation, Mummy can validate his bona fide. The change is made by the registrar, a new certificate is issued, and everyone lives happily ever after. With a dead and buried wife, a DNA test is your only option, and you don’t need her family’s permission because there is some good news.’

  Carter had his elbows on his knees, and his hands covering his ears.

  ‘The pictures from Las Vegas prove a ceremony took place and the foreign licence, the witnesses, signatures and all, count as much in Scotland. But without her testimony to validate all of it, including Nathaniel, you’re facing a devil of a job’.

  McGregor proceeded to the coup de grâce, his poker face giving Carter no quarter.

  ‘Contesting her last wishes will be difficult, take years of court time and require significant upfront funding with no guarantee of success.’