by Kerry Watts
Jessie closed the back door and spied another clutch of black clouds circling overhead. She feared it was an omen for the night ahead.
33
Gordon stood in the doorway and watched his mum in silence. She didn’t seem to notice he was there yet. He could turn and leave. Maybe he should. This was inconvenient. Then Arlene’s head snapped round.
‘Gordon,’ she called out to him and surged from her chair. She pulled him close to her and nestled her head into his chest. Gordon pushed her back. She knew he didn’t like that. Physical contact irritated him.
‘Where’s Dad?’ Gordon asked then frowned at the empty bed where his dad had been earlier.
Arlene’s eyes filled with tears until she pressed her thumbs across them. ‘He’s in surgery. They’ve found a small bleed in his brain. It probably happened when he was hit by the car.’
‘When will he be back?’
‘The doctor said she would come and get me when your dad is in recovery.’ Arlene sniffed and grabbed a tissue from her cardigan sleeve and blew her nose. ‘Where did you go, son?’
Emotional people were tiresome to Gordon Angus. Their need to unnecessarily complicate decisions with feelings irritated him. He’d always known he was different but it was his mum’s reaction to the death of their family dog when he was six that had highlighted it to him the most clearly. Kaiser was a golden Labrador and was often labelled as Gordon’s best friend. Mainly by his mum, it had to be said. It had been his mum’s breakdown when Gordon asked when they were getting another dog – the same day Kaiser was put down – that began his questions. She had been so emotional that day.
Sure, Gordon had liked Kaiser. He was great company and his fur was soft and warm to snuggle into. The dog had also seemed to know when Gordon was stressed and there had been some pretty difficult times in his younger years. People thought the bullying didn’t bother Gordon but it did, though that psychiatrist had been surprised when Gordon told him that. The bullying was horrible because what they said wasn’t true – Gordon wasn’t weird or a monster. Those boys were stupid. They were just jealous that they weren’t as intelligent as him.
Straight As were the norm for Gordon Angus. He couldn’t understand how people found exams so difficult. Working with a partner was the hard part for Gordon. It didn’t matter who he’d get paired with because they were all always equally stupid and often didn’t like Gordon pointing that out to them. He had no time for anyone whose IQ didn’t match his – which didn’t leave very many people for Gordon to get along with. His mum had always told Gordon to tell the truth, but when he did – and he regularly did – people seemed to object…
Gordon watched his mum’s face. It was pink and she looked hot and flushed. Like she’d been running.
‘Your face is all red.’
Arlene wiped her nose and smiled. Gordon’s trademark rudeness was strangely comforting. She reached out and rubbed his arm. ‘Thanks, son,’ she whispered.
‘Mrs Angus?’ The voice from the doorway startled her.
‘Yes, that’s me.’ Arlene surged forward to greet the young, slim doctor who looked like she should still be at school to Arlene. ‘This is my son, Gordon.’
The doctor smiled at Gordon, who frowned back.
‘Is Tommy OK? Can we see him?’ Arlene instinctively reached for Gordon’s hand and clung to it then realised what she’d done and pulled away. He wouldn’t like that.
‘Your husband is sleeping but the operation went very well.’ The doctor split her gaze between the two of them. ‘He’s in recovery and of course you can see him for a few moments.’
‘You hear that, Gordon?’ Arlene was so happy. ‘Your dad’s OK.’ She slammed her hand over her face and burst into tears again.
Gordon stared at her. He frowned then looked at the doctor, who leaned forward and squeezed Arlene’s hand.
‘Your husband is a lucky man,’ she began.
‘He’s my mum’s ex-husband. They got divorced last year,’ Gordon chirped. ‘But they’re still friends.’
Arlene blushed but she should be used to this now. ‘It’s OK, son; she doesn’t need to know everything.’
‘I know but she called him your husband.’
The young doctor smiled at Arlene. ‘Come with me and I’ll take you through to see him.’
Arlene and Gordon followed behind in silence until they came to a room with four beds in it. Each bed had someone with their life being assisted by tubes and wires. All four faces wore an oxygen mask and the whistling of the oxygen echoed in the air along with the regular beeps from pulse monitors. The bed in the far corner was occupied by an elderly woman whose tight grey curls were barely visible behind everything that was fighting to keep her alive.
Arlene scanned the room with frightened eyes then inhaled a huge breath when she spotted Tommy, his head wrapped in a bandage almost covering his left eye.
‘There’s your dad,’ she whispered and gently nudged Gordon forward.
‘You can have five minutes,’ the doctor informed them. ‘He needs to rest more than anything else now. We removed a small area of bleeding and the operation was relatively simple.’
‘Thank you so much,’ Arlene murmured as the young woman walked back out to the small recovery unit.
Gordon stared at his motionless father, his eyes scanning the numerous wires that stuck out in several directions. He looked down to see urine draining into a bag that was attached to the side of the bed. If it wasn’t for all the beeping, he would have thought his dad was dead. He looked grey. Just like his grandad had. Grey and still.
34
Jessie flopped down onto the chair at her desk and sipped from the mug of hot, sweet coffee Dylan had brought her before he’d headed home for the night. She’d told him he should get back to his two little ones. Dylan was a really great dad and a lovely husband to Shelly. More than once Jessie had been forced to squash down a pang of jealousy. Not that it was Dylan Jessie wanted. She longed for the relationship he had with Shelly, that was all. Growing up, Jessie had experienced nothing but violence and dysfunction and so began to think that was normal. Meeting and marrying Dan had done nothing but continue that cycle.
The sound of footsteps approaching in her empty office made her lift her head.
‘Hello, what’s up?’ Jessie stood to greet the uniformed officer and was confused when she recognised the key that he had in his hand.
‘A man handed this in a wee while ago with this note addressed to you.’
‘Thanks.’ Jessie took the envelope and recognised the handwriting on it immediately. ‘Did you see who handed this in?’
The officer shook his head as he turned to leave. ‘No, sorry.’
‘OK, thanks.’ She fell back down into the chair, frozen with the fear of what might be inside the envelope. She turned it over and smelled it instinctively, then quickly pulled it away from her face.
‘Come on – stop being stupid,’ she whispered and ripped it open.
Hi Jess,
Not sure if you realised but you left your car key in the ignition so I arranged for your Fiesta to be picked up and repaired. I’m working now so it wasn’t a problem. It’s not much but it pays the bills. I’ve got a little flat now too. It’s not much either but it does me.
There’s no need to pay me back. I was more than happy to help.
You had lost a clasp from your exhaust and you also had a small hole in your centre silencer. You must have been getting a real noise from it but it’s all fixed now anyway. I’ve parked it round the back of the station and given your key to the bloke on reception, but you probably figured that out already.
Seeing you again brought back a lot of feelings for me, Jess. You looked great. Just like the girl I married all those years ago. I know I don’t deserve anything from you but I’ve suffered too. I’ve grieved for him too. I would love to catch up and have a coffee sometime. I haven’t had a drink for a few months. I’m trying to be a better man, I promise. I’ll be in touch
. I still miss you.
Dan x
Jessie thought she was going to be sick. The rush of nausea those simple words caused was so powerful. She ripped up the note and tossed it into her bin then stuffed her car key into her bag. The sound of her phone buzzing made her jump. It was Benito.
‘Hello, Ben. I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t be late back but—’
Jessie listened to him tell her not to worry so much. He would wait for her. He was just checking in, making sure she was OK.
She hung up her call with him, so grateful he’d called exactly when he did. Like divine intervention perhaps – if Jessie believed in such things that was.
She grabbed her bag and made her way down to check on Rachel Ferguson.
35
‘Hello, Mrs Ferguson. I’m the doctor on duty.’ He smiled as he sat in the chair opposite her, his leather bag at his feet. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘Better, thanks. It was just a panic attack. I know that.’
‘You’ve experienced this kind of feeling before?’ He reached for her wrist to check her pulse.
Rachel nodded. ‘Yes, but not for a while.’ She hesitated and searched his face for signs that he knew who she was. She wondered if that detective was allowed to tell him about her past. Was she bound by some kind of confidentiality clause? Rachel hoped so. Having to talk about it with another stranger would probably bring on a further panic attack.
‘Look straight ahead.’ He shone his torch in each of Rachel’s eyes then asked her to follow his finger with only her eyes. ‘That’s fine.’
He tucked his stethoscope into his ears and listened to her chest. ‘Big deep breath for me.’ He paused. ‘And out.’
Rachel did as she was asked, relieved she couldn’t talk while he listened to her heart and lungs.
‘OK, your pulse is a little faster than I would like but under the circumstances it’s normal.’
He produced a cuff and tightened it around her arm. Rachel waited, expecting to be told her blood pressure was high. Of course it would be high. It was bound to be.
‘That’s fine. Not too bad. Certainly nothing to worry about – and you feel better, you said?’
His smile seemed warm and genuine. ‘Honestly, I’m OK now. I feel silly, that’s all.’ Rachel felt the heat rise from her neck to her cheeks. What must they think of her? She supposed that detective thought she was trying to escape.
After the doctor left he was replaced within minutes by that detective again. But not before muffled voices could be heard outside the room.
‘Hello,’ Jessie greeted her as she shut the door. ‘Doctor says you’re fit and healthy.’
Rachel shrugged then sipped from her cup of water. ‘I’m not sure about that exactly but I do feel better now and I’m sorry about before.’
‘Don’t worry about that now.’ Jessie pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. ‘Your solicitor will be joining us soon.’
Rachel nodded before the silence descended over them. Jessie didn’t want to be told anything until Rachel had legal representation present. She even considered walking back out of the room until her solicitor arrived. Thankfully they didn’t have long to wait. Rachel turned and smiled at the middle-aged, balding man. He held out his hand to shake Jessie’s before he sat next to his client.
‘My client has been read her rights, I assume,’ he asked while he removed papers from his bag and put his glasses on.
‘Yes, I have, thank you,’ Rachel muttered. ‘I’ve been examined by the doctor too.’
‘Good, that’s good.’ The solicitor peered over the top of his glasses. ‘I think we can get started then, Detective.’
Jessie smiled at them both. She had news Rachel wasn’t going to like. Since arriving at the station, the DNA results had come back positive – it was Rachel’s hair. She had motive, opportunity and the evidence conclusively proved a link to her. Not to mention Rachel’s history.
‘Thank you,’ Jessie answered then looked at Rachel. ‘I have to inform you, Rachel Ferguson, that it is my intention to charge you with the murders of Jean and Malcolm Angus. Your DNA has been matched to the scene and your boots are a match to the prints found in the mud outside of their living-room window.’
Rachel’s solicitor ripped off his glasses immediately. ‘Detective, I should have been informed of this. My client is under the impression she is here to answer questions, that’s all.’
Jessie shrugged and watched the panic grow on Rachel’s face again, then sighed.
‘No!’ Rachel called out. ‘It’s not true. I haven’t done anything. I wouldn’t hurt them. I wouldn’t – I couldn’t – hurt anyone.’
She stood up, abruptly knocking her chair behind her before grabbing her solicitor’s shoulder. ‘You have to do something. How can my DNA be there?’ Her voice grew louder the more desperate she got. ‘I was nowhere near that house – that day or any other.’
‘Rachel!’ Jessie shouted. ‘Sit down.’
Rachel released her grip on her solicitor and stared, red-faced, at Jessie before starting to pace around the small interview room. Jessie felt uncomfortable, suddenly threatened by Rachel’s proximity to the back of her chair. It was clear this seemingly mild-mannered woman had two sides to her personality.
‘Do as the detective says,’ the solicitor advised. ‘Come on, sit back down.’
‘No, I won’t sit down,’ Rachel snapped. ‘I haven’t done this.’
Jessie had seen enough. ‘Sit down or I’ll have no choice but to restrain you.’
Rachel’s eyes burst open wider with that threat.
‘Thank you,’ Jessie commented as she watched Rachel pick the chair back up and place it next to the table. She lowered herself gently opposite her. ‘Let’s start again, shall we?’
36
Kenny Ferguson tossed the ball for his dogs and watched the three of them bolt off in pursuit. Rachel had asked him not to follow her to the station. She would call or get her solicitor to if she wasn’t allowed. He’d tried to protest but agreed. He didn’t want to add to Rachel’s stress.
He opened the gate into the paddock his wife wanted for training her horses. All that old couple had to do was agree. He couldn’t understand what their problem was, though Kenny did fear that it was Malcolm’s dislike of him. Kenny knew when someone didn’t like him. He didn’t let it stop him getting where he was today but he knew. Bullied mercilessly as a boy, Kenny was determined to succeed despite it all. His father had never wrapped him up in cotton wool, that was for sure.
Kenny turned at the sound of his name being called from the driveway. He waved and smiled when he saw her.
‘Hello, Caroline. I’m so glad you came.’
Kenny unlocked the front door and held out his hand to allow her to go in first.
‘Of course I was going to come. Why have the police taken Rachel in for questioning? It doesn’t make any sense,’ Caroline remarked.
‘The police have—’ He stopped to catch the lump that had appeared in his throat.
Caroline gasped. ‘The police have what? Tell me.’
Kenny could only shake his head then turn away to hide his tears. ‘I-I can’t,’ he stuttered.
Caroline lifted her hand to his face and lightly brushed her fingers over his cheek. ‘You can tell me anything,’ she whispered.
‘The police have got evidence. DNA for one thing. I don’t know what else exactly.’ His voice trembled.
‘But why – I mean, how? I know about your neighbours objecting to the planning application,’ Caroline heard herself ramble.
‘They were here, the police, searching the place,’ Kenny struggled to continue.
Caroline gasped once again. ‘Oh, Kenny, I’m so sorry. But they can’t seriously think Rachel has done anything, can they?’
Kenny shrugged and squeezed his eyes shut. ‘One of my guns is—’ He stopped and bit back the words. He just couldn’t say them.
‘No!’ Caroline looked appalled at what he was sa
ying.
Kenny swallowed hard and stared at the look of horror on her face. Then he nodded. ‘One of my guns is missing.’
The house phone rang before Kenny could say anything else.
‘Hello,’ Kenny answered, irritated by the silence that greeted his response. ‘I said, hello.’
He was about to hang up when he heard the voice that was barely audible. He listened to what she had to say in horror and stared at Caroline, his eyes wide and his heart racing. Kenny couldn’t speak. His face was white with shock as he dropped the phone.
37
1991
Rachel clutched her stomach and let out a guttural roar of agony. Then the flood of warm liquid trickled down her leg.
‘What?’ she whimpered and reached down to touch it just as a stronger gush of water rushed out of her and splashed onto the floor at her feet. ‘Help! Help me!’ she called out just as another wave of pain ripped into her stomach.
Her roommate Ella dried herself and slipped into her pyjamas then switched off the bathroom light. With the light off, the fan stopped whirring and she ran towards the cries she heard coming from her room.
‘Rachel!’ she shouted then dropped to her knees next to her. Rachel was now on all fours between the two beds in their small room.
‘Help me!’ Rachel cried out.
Ella leaped back up and fled.
‘Don’t leave me,’ Rachel called after her as another wave of agony tore into her. ‘Argh, God, please help me. Somebody help me. Come back!’
She felt her stomach tighten and nausea clawed her throat before she threw up on the floor at her side. She wiped her mouth on the edge of her duvet and was grateful when the pain began to subside. She fell back and propped herself up against the bed, then she heard footsteps running towards the room and the door burst open, thumping the bottom of the bed she rested on and jolting her back.
