Don't Push Me

by Ewan McGregor

  He would enjoy seeing the sister being told she was being charged for helping her dad get rid of the body and covering up the murder. She seemed like she didn’t have a care in the world. It would be a pleasure wiping the smile off her face.

  70

  ‘Police have today charged 51-year-old Stephen Armstrong with the murder of his nineteen-year-old stepdaughter Rachel Strang. Glasgow girl Rachel had been missing for five weeks until a member of the public found a body in woodland near Glasgow yesterday. Kirsty Armstrong, Stephen Armstrong’s daughter has also been charged in relation to the case, although her role is, as yet, unknown. It has emerged that stepfather Armstrong and Miss Strang were involved in an affair, though a police spokesman refused to confirm or deny these allegations. More on this as we get it.’

  Kat didn’t know how to feel. Everything had worked out exactly how she had wanted. Her plan had come to fruition and then some. Yet she felt a bit numb. Lives had been ruined because of the events which had spiralled from Rachel’s accidental death in the car park. Rachel was dead. Stephen would likely spend the rest of his days behind bars. Kirsty would probably spend time in jail as well. Rachel’s mother had lost her daughter and had her marriage ripped apart. No one had come out of this well. No one apart from Kat that is.

  It was on every news bulletin on the hour, every hour. Speculation was rife and some of the tabloids were embellishing the story even further. It seemed a stepdad sleeping with and then killing his stepdaughter with help from his biological daughter wasn’t sensational enough for them. The papers had managed to get hold of photos showing Stephen, Kirsty, Rachel and various other family members. It was surreal seeing the whole thing in print and online.

  The headlines were numerous: ‘Stepdad charged with murder’, ‘Gruesome dad and daughter killed Rachel’, ‘Horror family killing’ and (Kat’s personal favourite) ‘Twisted stepdad and daughter abused and killed Rachel’.

  Kat was going to be late for work at this rate. She had been up since the crack of dawn digesting every last morsel of news on the case. She tried to dig deeper than most would – she tried to get a sense of what the police were saying or what evidence they had; tried to get a sense of what the police weren’t saying as well. Not one news item suggested that any other suspects were being sought in relation to the case. Kat didn’t want to admit it to herself, but it was looking good. It was all going according to plan. She had dealt with the questions from the two CID officers well and it looked like no suspicion would be laid upon her.

  Kat put her earphones in and left the house. She wasn’t going to work by car or by underground this morning.

  She was walking it.

  71

  ‘Did you know? You knew, didn’t you?’

  ‘Hi, Mum. Knew what?’ Kat smiled. Maureen, for once, wasn’t seated in her usual chair watching television. She was excitedly pacing up and down the room. She had been waiting for her daughter’s visit all day.

  ‘Don’t start all that coy nonsense with me. You know fine well what I’m talking about. You’re ex-bloody-husband and that little cow.’

  ‘I know as much as you do, Mum. I read it in the papers like everyone else,’ Kat said, indicating the large pile of well-thumbed newspapers on the coffee table which her mother had been reading and rereading.

  ‘Aye, so you did.’ Maureen smiled at Kat. ‘So you bloody did. Take a seat and tell me everything. And I mean everything.’

  *

  Kat parked her new car further down the street. The Mercedes was in her space yet again. Some things never changed it seemed.

  She got out of the brand-new Mini and walked to her flat. She wasn’t the least bit annoyed. In fact, she couldn’t hide the smile on her face.

  The young man with the flash suit was standing staring at his car. He had his mobile phone clamped to his ear as usual but today he looked absolutely furious.

  ‘This was you, wasn’t it?’ he said as Kat approached.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Kat said.

  ‘My car… it was you!’

  Kat took a look at the damage. Somebody had put a half brick through the driver’s-side window and there was a large score on the paintwork.

  ‘Fuck off,’ Kat said, laughing as she walked away.

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, thank you to everyone who has bought the book, I really appreciate it and hope you enjoyed it.

  Thanks to my wife Tricia for all of her encouragement and to my four year old Aaron for scribbling over the various drafts with pictures of dinosaurs.

  Thanks to ex policeman and all round good guy William Davey for his help and knowledge. I owe you a drink.

  Thanks to my editor Laura Kincaid who helped greatly.

  Thanks to my cover design team at BooksCovered, especially Stuart Bache and Emily. Love your work.

  Thanks also to Mark Dawson, James Blatch and the team at SPF for helping me on the road to writing.

  A special thanks to my wonderful mum and dad who have always supported me.

  Thanks again,

  Ewan