A Darker Domain

by Val McDermid

  but she was strong for a woman and she’d hit him so hard she’d smashed his skull.

  I couldn’t believe it. A few hours before, we’d been on top of the world. And now I was in hell, holding the dead body of my best pal.

  I don’t know how I got through the next few hours. My brain seemed to work independent of the rest of me. I knew I had to sort things, to protect Catriona. Andy had a motorbike and sidecar combination. I walked back through the woods to his place and drove the bike back to Catriona’s. We put him in the sidecar and I drove down to the Thane’s Cave at East Wemyss. There’s a set of caves down there that have been used by humans for 5,000 years, and I was involved in the preservation society so I knew what I was doing. I could get the bike right up to the entrance to the Thane’s Cave. I carried Andy in the rest of the way and buried him in a shallow grave in the back part of the cave.

  I went back a couple of days later and brought the roof down so nobody would find Andy. I knew where to get my hands on some pit explosives - my wife’s pal had been married to a pit deputy and I remembered him boasting about having a couple of shots of dynamite in his garden shed.

  But back to that night. I wasn’t finished. I drove the bike back through East Wemyss and along to the pit bing. I jammed the throttle open and let it pile into the side of the bing. The slag covered it while I stood there.

  I walked home in a total daze. Ironically, I ran into the scabs as they were setting off. I’ve no idea what I said to them, I was deranged.

  When I got to Catriona’s, she was in a hell of a state. I don’t think either of us slept that night. But by the time morning came, we knew we had to go through with her idea. As well as wanting to start a new life, we needed to put some distance between Andy and us. So we started to make our plans.

  Ironically, Andy being dead solved one problem we’d had about faking the kidnap - where we could hide you and Catriona without anybody knowing. I hit on the idea of forging a note in Andy’s handwriting in case any of his family came by to see why they hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t a straight-out suicide note. I didn’t want to upset them, so I left it kind of ambiguous. I know that sounds weird, but I’m telling it like it was, not trying to make myself look like the good guy. Like I said, I’ve done things I’m ashamed of, but I did all of them out of love.

  We let some time pass before we set up the kidnap because we didn’t want anybody making a connection between me leaving and the kidnap. Also, we wanted to be sure Andy’s family had accepted he’d gone away and wouldn’t be coming round on the off-chance. I’m ashamed to say I forged a couple of postcards in his writing and went up north to post them after the New Year so they’d stay away from his cottage and not come looking to see if he was back. We needed to make sure we’d be safe there.

  On the day we’d agreed, the three of us went off to Andy’s with your toys and your clothes and there we stayed until the night of the ransom handover. Toby wasn’t around much - he was sorting out the boats. We’d decided to do the handover in a place where we could escape by boat. We’d told Grant not to tell the police, but we weren’t sure if he’d stick to that, so we thought we’d leave the police flat-footed if we got away on the water.

  At the time, Toby was living on his father’s boat, a four-berth cabin cruiser. He knew about boats, and he’d decided we needed to make our getaway in an inflatable with an outboard engine. He knew somebody who had one up in a boathouse in Johnstown. He reckoned nobody would even notice it was missing until May, so that seemed like a good idea.

  Anyway, the night of the handover came and we set off. We’d agreed Catriona was going to get the money, then we’d hand you over to her mother. We’d go off with Catriona, then the next day, she’d turn up by some roadside, supposedly having been dumped once the kidnappers knew the ransom was the real thing. Meanwhile I’d give Toby his third share, he’d go his way and I’d go mine, finding us somewhere to live and work up in the Highlands.

  Nothing went like it was supposed to. The place was crawling with armed police, though we didn’t realize it. Toby had a gun too, though I didn’t realize that either until we got out the boat at the rendezvous. And Grant had a gun. It was a recipe for disaster. And a disaster was what we got.

  Even after all this time, thinking about it makes me choke up. Everything was going to plan, but for some reason, Catriona’s mum made a big performance about handing the ransom over. Grant lost the place and started waving his gun around. Then Toby turned off the spotlight and the shooting started. Catriona got caught in the crossfire. I had night-vision goggles from the army surplus and I saw her fall just a few yards away from me. I ran to her. She died in my arms. It was all over in seconds. She’d dropped the bag with the ransom when she was shot, and Toby grabbed it. I didn’t know what to do. You were back by the boat, in your carry cot. We’d planned to leave you there. But I knew I couldn’t leave you, not with your mother dead. I couldn’t leave you behind for Grant to bring up in his image. So we ran for the boat. I got a hold of your carry cot and threw it back aboard and we got out of there as fast as we could.

  The only thing that went according to plan was what we’d decided to do to avoid anyone using tracking devices to follow us. The ransom was a mix of notes and uncut diamonds. We put the money in another bag that we’d brought with us and tossed the original over the gunwale. Then I dredged the bag with the diamonds through the sea. We figured the water would knock out any transmitter they might have put in amongst them. It seemed to do the trick, because there was nobody on our tail as we shot down the coast to Dysart where Toby’s boat had already been moored for a few days. It was just a few miles, so we got there before the helicopter was in the air. We could hear it and see it from the boat. After it had gone, Toby took the inflatable out of the harbour and sank it off the beach. Then we holed up there till dawn and set off on the morning tide. I was in a state of shock, to tell you the truth. A couple of times, I was on the point of walking to the nearest police station and giving myself up. But Toby held himself together and saved all of us.

  It took us a few weeks to get to Italy. We laundered most of the money in automatic cash machines and casinos along the French coast. The lion’s share of the ransom was in uncut diamonds, and we hung on to those.

  Once we got here, we split up. I left Toby with the boat and I rented a house in the hills outside Lucca for a few months till I decided where I wanted to live. I don’t remember much about that time. I was dazed with grief and guilt and the terrible pain of losing Catriona. If it hadn’t been for you, I might not have made it through. I still can’t believe how it all went so wrong.

  I know you probably look at my life and think I had it pretty good. The ransom money bought us the house in Costalpino, and a bit left over that I’ve got invested. The income from that put the jam on the bread and butter I earned from the painting. I got to spend the rest of my life in a beautiful place, bringing up my son and painting the things I wanted to paint without ever having to worry too much about money.

  The only reason you can think I had it pretty good is that you never knew your mother. When she died, she took the light away. You have been the only real light in my life since then, and don’t underestimate what a joy it has been for me to spend these years with you. It breaks my heart that I will not live to see what you achieve with the rest of your life. You’re a very special person, Adam. I call you that because it is the name we chose together for you.

  There’s one last thing I want you to do. I want you to make contact with your grandfather. I googled him last week for the first time: Sir Broderick Maclennan Grant. His friends call him Brodie. He lives in Rotheswell Castle in Fife. His first wife, your grandmother, committed suicide two years after Catriona died. He’s got a new wife now, and a son called Alec. So you see, you have a family. You have a grandfather and an uncle who is quite a few years younger than you! Make the most of them, son. You’ve got a lot of time to make up for, and you’re enough of a man now to stand
up to a bully like Brodie Grant.

  So now you know it all. Blame me or forgive me, it’s up to you. But never doubt that you were conceived and born in love, and that you have been loved every single day of your life. Take care of yourself, Adam.

  All my love,

  Your father, Mick the miner

  Gabriel dropped the last sheet on top of the others. He went back to the first page and read it all again, aware that Matthias had come back in at some point. It was like reading the synopsis of a movie. Impossible to connect to his life. Too absurd to be true. He felt as if the foundations of his life had been removed, leaving him hanging in the air like a cartoon character holding his breath for the inevitable catastrophic fall. ‘Does Ursula know all this?’ he said, knowing it wasn’t that important a question, but wanting to know the answer anyway.

  ‘Some of it.’ Matthias sat down heavily opposite Gabriel, another bottle of wine in his hand. ‘She doesn’t know who your mother was, or all of Daniel’s story. She knows he set up a fake kidnap because he wanted to be with you and your mother. But she doesn’t know about the shoot-out at the OK Corral.’

  The flippancy of Matthias’s description of his mother’s death gave Gabriel a jolt. Toby had a gun too. He gave a half-hearted snort of derision. ‘All these years, I thought I was living among a bunch of old hippies with a load of outdated leftie ideals. And it turns out you lot are actually a bunch of criminals on the run after the worst kind of capitalist crime.’ He knew there were more important things to talk about, but he had to work his way round to them, like a dog faced with a hot dinner who starts off nibbling at the edges because that’s all he can cope with. Toby had a gun too.

  ‘You’re looking at it all wrong, Gabe, my man,’ Matthias said, fingers busy with another joint. ‘Think of us as latter-day Robin Hoods. Robbing the seriously rich to spread the money round more fairly.’

  ‘You and my dad living the life of Riley, doing exactly what you want - how exactly does that further the fight against international capitalism?’ Gabriel didn’t even try to keep the sneer from his face or his voice. ‘If my grandfather had been supportive of my mother’s art, none of this would have happened. Don’t tell me you all did this for some higher purpose. You did it because you wanted your own way and you saw how you could make somebody else pay for it.’ He waved the joint away impatiently. He didn’t want to lose any of the shreds of clarity left to him.

  ‘Hey now, Gabe, don’t be rushing to judgement on us.’

  ‘Why not? Isn’t that what the Gesualdo is all about? It’s like the last thing he did was invite me to judge him. Should I see him as a killer or as a man redeemed by his painting? Or redeemed by loving me and bringing me up the best he could?’ Gabriel scrabbled through the letter, looking for the last page. ‘Here it is, in his own hand: “Blame me or forgive me, it’s up to you.” He wanted me to make up my own mind about what you did.’ The heat of anger was spreading through him, filling him up and making it harder to be reasonable. Toby had a gun too.

  ‘And you should forgive him,’ Matthias said. ‘You doubt our motives, but I tell you, all he wanted was to make a life with you and Cat. Circumstances were against them. We just tried to redress the balance, that’s all, Gabe.’

  His easy complacency was like a goad to Gabriel. ‘And when did that give you the right to make my choices for me?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You and Daniel, you chose what I got to know about who I am and when I got to know it. You kept me away from my family. You lied about my history, made me think all I had was Daniel and you and Ursula. You took away my chance of growing up knowing my grandfather. My grandmother might still be alive if she’d had me with her.’

  Matthias blew out a plume of smoke. ‘Gabe, there was no going back for us. You think growing up under Brodie Grant’s thumb would have been better than the life you’ve had?’ He snorted derisively. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you had any idea how tough he made Cat’s life.’ He got up and fetched a block of dope and a sharp knife to cut off a fresh slice.

  ‘But I don’t, do I? Because I never got the chance to find out, thanks to you two and the choices you made for me.’ Gabriel slammed the flat of his hand down on the table. ‘Well, I’m going to make up for lost time. I’m going back to Scotland. I’m going to find my grandfather and get to know him for myself. Maybe he’s the ogre you and Daniel make him out to be. Or maybe he’s just someone who wanted the best for his daughter. And judging by this -’ he batted the letter with his hand, making the papers flutter in the dim light ‘- he wasn’t so far off the mark, was he? I mean, my dad wasn’t exactly a model citizen, was he?’

  Matthias dropped the knife and stared at Gabriel. ‘I don’t think going back is that great an idea.’

  ‘Why not? It’s time I got to know my family, don’t you think?’

  ‘That’s not the issue.’

  ‘Well, what is?’

  Matthias made a small helpless gesture with his hands. ‘They’re going to want to know where you’ve been for the last twenty-odd years. And that’s kind of a problem for me.’

  ‘What’s it got to do with you?’

  ‘Think about it, Gabe. There’s no statute of limitations for murder or kidnap. They’re going to come after me and put me away for the rest of my life.’

  Toby had a gun too. ‘I won’t tell them anything that implicates you,’ Gabriel said, contempt in the curl of his mouth. ‘You don’t have to worry about your own skin. I’ll take care of that.’

  Matthias laughed. ‘You really have no fucking idea who your grandfather is. You think you can just refuse Brodie Grant? He’ll chase down your history, he’ll backtrack and find out every move you’ve made all these years. He won’t stop till he’s nailed me to a fucking cross. This isn’t just about you.’

  ‘This is my life.’ They were both shouting now, outrage and fear stoking the paranoia of dope and the abandon of alcohol. ‘If he gets me back, why the hell would my grandfather care about you?’

  ‘Because he’ll never give up the chance for revenge so he doesn’t have to take responsibility.’

  ‘Responsibility? Responsibility for what?’

  ‘For killing Cat.’ Even as he spoke, Matthias’s face stretched in horror. He knew the enormity of what he’d said as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

  Gabriel stared at him in disbelief. ‘You’re crazy. You’re saying my grandfather shot his own daughter?’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. I don’t think he meant -’

  Gabriel jumped to his feet, sending the chair crashing to the ground. ‘I can’t believe - You lying piece of - You’d say anything,’ he shouted incoherently. ‘You brought a gun. You’re the one who shot her, aren’t you? That’s what really happened. Not my grandfather. You. That’s why you don’t want me to go back, because you’ll finally have to face what you did.’

  Matthias stood up, walking round the table towards Gabriel, hands outstretched. ‘You’ve got it so wrong,’ he said. ‘Please, Gabe.’

  Gabriel’s face was a mask of rage and shock. He reached down for the knife on the table and rushed Matthias. Nothing in his mind but anger and pain, nothing as coherent as intent. But the result was as incontrovertible as if it had been the result of a meticulous plan. Matthias crumpled and fell backwards, a dark red blemish quickly spreading to a stain across the front of his T-shirt. Gabriel stood above him, panting and sobbing, not caring to make any effort to staunch the blood. Toby had a gun too.

  Matthias clutched at his failing heart as it slowly ran out of blood to pump round his body. His heaving chest gradually subsided till it grew motionless. Gabriel had no idea how long it took Matthias to die, only that, by the end, his legs were so tired they could scarcely hold him up. He slumped to the floor where he stood, just beyond the margin of the slowly congealing pool of blood that had spread beyond Matthias’s body.

  Time drifted past. Finally, what roused him was footsteps and live
ly chatter approaching along the loggia. Max and Luka swaggered in, full of the success of the evening’s performance. When they saw the gory tableau in front of them, they stopped short. Max cursed, Luka crossed himself. Then Rado walked in with Ursula. She caught sight of Matthias and opened her mouth in a soundless scream, falling to her knees and crawling towards him.

  ‘He killed my mother,’ Gabriel said, his voice flat and cold.

  Ursula swung her head round to him, her lips curled back in a snarl. ‘You killed him?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘He killed my mother.’

  Ursula whimpered. ‘No. No, it’s not true. He couldn’t hurt a fly.’ She stretched out her hand tentatively, her fingertips brushing Matthias’s dead hand.

  ‘He had a gun. It’s in the letter. Daniel left me a letter.’

  ‘What the fuck are we going to do?’ Max yelped, breaking the macabre intimacy between them. ‘We can’t call the cops.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Rado said. ‘They’ll pin it on one of us. One of the illegals, not the painter’s son.’

  Ursula pressed her hands to her face, fingers splayed, as if she was going to claw her features apart. Her body heaved in a spasm of dry retching. Then somehow she visibly drew her strength together. Her face smeared with Matthias’ blood like a terrible parody of night camouflage, she launched herself at Gabriel with a harrowing scream.