Trick of the Dark

by Val McDermid

  I looked round at the station staff and picked a middle-aged woman who looked like most of the lines on her face had come from laughing. It turned out Grainger Market was only a few minutes' walk from the station. I checked my watch. Jenna would barely have set off from Roker by now. I reckoned it would be at least half an hour before she got there. Plenty of time to check out the market, to see where the best place would be to be sure of catching her.

  It was a bit bewildering when I got there - lots of different entrances, and a huge number of stalls selling a vast range of stuff. Everything from knicker elastic to lambs' sweetbreads. There was nowhere I could really set up an observation point, so I decided just to walk around, keeping my eyes peeled for her.

  Almost an hour went by without any luck, and by then I was bursting for the loo. When I came out, I glanced around to see if I could spot her. And I nearly fell through the floor. There was no doubt in my mind, even though I hadn't seen Jenna in make-up for six years. Sitting at a cafe table, wearing lipstick and eyeshadow and mascara and blusher was my mother. Her hair was loose around her shoulders instead of done up in a chignon like usual. She was smoking a cigarette. And she was with a man who was very definitely not Howard bloody Calder.

  He looked a bit like Morrissey, only broad and muscled where Morrissey was willowy. At first I thought that was why he looked familiar. I edged along the outside wall and crossed to a second-hand bookstall, where I was more or less concealed behind a rack of romances.Their heads were close together; they were talking and laughing like people who know each other well.

  Then he threw his head back to laugh and I saw the snake tattoo that curled from behind his ear down his neck and into the V of his open shirt collar. And I remembered him. He was Dutch. Rinks, that was his name. I used to call him Ice. At eight or so I thought I was hilarious. We'd lived with him on a boat in Norfolk for a summer season, then he'd gone back to Holland. He'd paid more attention to me than most of Jenna's men. When he came home with a quarter of dope, he'd always have a bar of chocolate or a comic for me.

  So, fine. I'd slotted this man into my memory. But what on earth was Jenna doing with him in Grainger Market when she was supposed to be shopping for her husband's dinners for the week? And then I remembered how she'd been distracted the last couple of days. Like her mind had derailed from the tram tracks the church had laid down for her. Were the two things connected?

  I wondered if I should confront her, threaten to tell her husband about the make-up and the assignation if she didn't change her mind about the marriage. But I didn't want to be the kind of person who would use emotional blackmail against my mother. I wanted her to support me because she wanted to support me, because it was the right thing to do. Maybe it would be better to say nothing, to hope that she would carry on seeing Rinks and finally come to her senses. She might leave Howard Calder for Rinks and take me with her. And then everything would be all right.

  You think like that at fifteen.

  So I carried on watching them. They drank their coffee then spent an hour shopping for meat and fish and fruit and vegetables. Rinks carried the heavy bags and I followed them back to the Eldon Square car park.They put the shopping in the car then they walked back down by the Earl Grey monument. Rinks had his arm round Jenna's shoulder, and she leaned into him. They went into Waterstone's and I watched through the window as they browsed the shelves. By the cookery books, he kissed her. Lightly, not a proper snog. But on the lips all the same. It was like watching someone come back to life, seeing the way my mother lit up with him.

  I followed them down the hill towards the station then they went into a pub. Obviously I couldn't follow them in. I was only fifteen, so I would have been illegal. I thought people would know just by looking at me. More importantly, I didn't have much money and I didn't know how much a soft drink would cost in a pub. Only that it was probably more than I had. I thought it probably wasn't like a sweet-shop where you could go in and ask what they had for 35p.

  It was like a thriller, Charlie thought again. Twists and turns and suspense. She glanced out of the window and was relieved to see they were still in empty Highland scenery. Maria could drive to Glasgow at thirty miles an hour for all she cared. She wanted to know the ending.

  The next section dealt with Jay taking on the role of spy in her mother's life. Within a few days of the Grainger Market encounter, Jenna was slipping away from the house every morning after the coast was clear and driving off with Rinks. Jay was convinced they were going to be spotted by a fellow member of the church, but they seemed to lead a charmed existence.

  Then one evening a couple of weeks later, Jenna announced over dinner that she had signed up to take part in a charity project to refurbish the homes of a group of old people in a block of flats in the town. Howard had clearly not wanted her to do it, but she'd held her ground, talking about the need for practical Christian charity as well as spirituality. It had been hard to argue against.

  Jay had turned up at the charity project the next day during her school lunch hour and wasn't in the least surprised to find Rinks was the project leader. She pretended she had no idea who he was and her mother didn't introduce them. She'd hugged her secret knowledge to herself and tried to work out what she could do to make it work to her advantage.

  Being Jay, she got there eventually. But before she could put her plan into action, she was overtaken by events. Charlie didn't think that had happened very often.

  I'd finally plucked up the courage to tell Jenna and Rinks that I knew what was going on. I wanted to encourage them to get back together properly, for Jenna to leave her husband and set up home with Rinks and me. It was my route to salvation and I knew I couldn't wait indefinitely. My birthday was getting closer and I didn't want to take any chances.

  I knew the project was getting close to the end, so I chose a Friday. That way, we could get ourselves organised while my stepfather was at work. We could pack up and be gone before he got home.Then we'd have the weekend to get sorted out and I could be back at school on Monday as if nothing had happened.

  I know it sounds very simplistic, looking back at it now. But I had no understanding of the complexities of adult relationships. How could I? I'd never had the chance to see how most people connected. As far as I was concerned, it was obvious what had to happen.

  I turned up at the project on the Friday morning but there was nobody around. All the volunteers were gone and the flats were locked up. I managed to find the warden and to my dismay he told me all the work had been finished the day before, a week ahead of schedule. Most of the residents would be back by the end of next week, all but three who had decided they wanted to go into residential care. He just kept talking at me as if I should be interested. All I was interested in was that my plan had just fallen to bits.

  'What about Rinks?' I asked.

  'The Dutch lad? He's very pleased with himself because he's got a week off now before his next project, down in York. He said he was going back to Holland to see his folks.'

  Suddenly, I felt excited.They must have decided to go off together after all. Jenna would be back at the house, packing her bags and waiting for me to get home from school so the three of us could leave for Holland. The fact that they'd made the decision for themselves rather than me having to persuade them was even better.

  I hurried home, imagining my new life. We'd have a tall canal house. Or live on a boat, like we had in Norfolk. I would cycle to school and see real Van Gogh paintings. I was practically skipping down the street. We'd be a happy family in Holland and I'd never see Howard bloody Calder again.

  I couldn't have been more wrong. The person I would never see again was my mother.

  'Oh my God,' Charlie said, letting out her breath with a whoosh. 'I didn't see that coming. I mean, I sort of knew that her mother walked out on her and the stepfather, but the way she tells it - my God, you really feel it like a punch in the guts.'

  'What happened?'

  'The mother hooked u
p with an old boyfriend from the days before she found Jesus. And they took off, leaving Jay behind. She says she never saw her mother again.'

  'Is that it? The end of the book? The mother walks out, never to be seen again?'

  Charlie flicked forward. 'Not quite. There's a short after-word. Like when you get those little precis things at the end of movies. You know. "Jimmy Brown moved to Buffalo and opened a tattoo parlour. Jane Brown gave up her work with disabled parakeets and married an albino rabbi."'

  'You have a very bizarre imagination,' Maria said. 'So what happened to them all?'

  Charlie turned the page. 'You want me to read it out to you?'

  'Yeah, it's not like I'm going to read it.'

  '"Jenna Calder left her husband and child with a single suitcase whose contents included a framed photograph of her daughter, aged six. In spite of police missing person inquiries, nobody has heard from her or seen her since.

  '"Rinks van Leer returned from Amsterdam after a week's holiday to run a renovation project in York. He claimed to have no idea where Jenna was. He has gone on to run major projects in Central America and sub-Saharan Africa.

  '"Howard Calder burned the clothes and possessions Jenna left behind and refused to speak her name. He still lives in the family home in Roker. He has never divorced or remarried.

  '"Jay Stewart was taken in by her history teacher and his wife. She lived with them while she sat her A-levels and her Oxford entrance exam. She matriculated at St Scholastika's College, Oxford in Michaelmas Term 1992." And that's it. After all that rollercoaster of emotion, all that pain and struggle, it ends with the mother walking away. No wonder Jay's got issues,' Charlie said.

  'It's a pretty blunt ending.'

  'I think that's deliberate. She's trying to reflect how stark it felt to her. She's skipping home, thinking that after all this shit, she's about to see a turnaround. And that's what she does get. It's just the opposite of the one she was expecting.'

  Maria slowed down as they approached a roundabout. 'Glasgow coming up,' she said. 'Do you want to take over? I'm feeling pretty tired now, if I'm honest.'

  'Sure. Pull over the next place we can get a cup of coffee.'

  'So, given what you've read, are you more or less inclined to think Jay Stewart could be a cold-blooded killer?'

  Charlie chuckled. 'I wish it was that easy. What I do think is that this was a key event in shaping her future behaviour. Chances are, she'll do pretty much whatever it takes to avoid putting herself in a position where someone else has the power to undermine what she wants. In business, in love, in friendship. But the other side of the coin is her need. Her early years were divided between chaos and regimentation. The one constant was her mother. Even though she was a pretty crap mother, Jay knew she could trust her to be there. And she still needs somewhere to put that trust. Right now, I suspect she's putting it on Magda.'

  'So coming between her and Magda would be a seriously bad thing to do?'

  Charlie nodded. 'Trouble is, I think that's exactly what I'm going to have to do.'

  8

  Monday

  Jay breezed through the office in the best of tempers. She stopped by her PA's desk and delivered her best Monday-morning smile. 'Anne, I need you to find me a company that will pack up Magda's personal stuff from her flat,' she said.

  'Congratulations,' Anne said with a wry smile. 'Good to see you haven't lost your silver-tongued winning ways.'

  'Thank you. Sooner the better. And can you chase up Tromso for me? We were caught on the hop with that northern lights documentary last year. I hear it's going to be repeated in a couple of weeks, I don't want us scrabbling at the last minute again.' Jay stopped by the coffee machine and fixed herself a skinny latte. She turned and spoke loud enough to attract the attention of the half-dozen people in. 'Monday meeting at noon, I've booked the back room at Chung's.'

  Jay carried on into her office and closed the door behind her, a signal that she wasn't available for non-urgent communication. She settled behind her desk and leaned back in her chair, feet up on the wastepaper bin. She was feeling very pleased with herself. Magda had finally agreed that it was time they acted on their decision to move in together. Jay's house was more than big enough for both of them, so the logical thing was to rent out Magda's flat. It meant a longer commute than her present short walk, but apparently that was a price she was ready to pay.

  The thought of Henry's apoplectic reaction was enough to bring a sly smile. Sooner or later, there would have to be a family truce within the Newsams' camp. But she didn't mind the idea of Corinna and Henry suffering a bit of heartburn along the way.

  She woke the computer from its hibernation but before she could check her messages, her iPhone rang. Recognising the number, she gave a short, sharp sigh, but answered it anyway. 'Hello,' she said.

  'Greetings. Still in love?' The voice was ironic.

  'Even if I wasn't, you know how it is. It wouldn't make any difference. What can I do for you?'

  'It's what I can do for you.'

  Jay experienced a familiar sinking feeling. 'I've told you. You don't owe me anything.'

  'I know that. But I like to help the people I care about when I can. I thought I should tell you that you're being . . . what's the best word here? Investigated?'

  'I don't know what you mean. Who's investigating me? And why?' In spite of herself, Jay wanted answers.

  'Ultimately, Corinna Newsam. She's got somebody digging into your past. Looking, I believe, for dirt.'

  Jay couldn't quite believe it. 'Corinna's what? Hired a private eye?'

  'No, she's strictly amateur hour. She's another one of Corinna's former pupils. A psychiatrist. Dr Charlotte Flint. Charlie to her friends.' The voice was amused now, enjoying a private joke that Jay didn't understand.

  'I remember Charlie Flint. She was in the news last year. She was involved in that serial killer case. What on earth is she doing working for Corinna? And how do you know this?'

  'Not everyone is immune to my charms, Jay. Would you like to know where she spent the weekend?'

  Jay straightened up in her chair. 'This isn't a game. Just tell me what you know, never mind dangling stuff in front of me. What the hell's going on here?'

  A soft gurgle of laughter. 'Calm down, Jay. I'll tell you what you want to know. Charlie Flint spent the weekend on the Isle of Skye. She interviewed two guys from the mountain rescue. She's also been looking at a couple of other incidents in your past. Jess Edwards, and Ulf Ingemarsson. Oh, and the husband.'

  'Tell me this is your idea of a joke,' Jay said, her voice dark with anger.

  'Don't shoot the messenger, dear heart. I'm not the one who thinks you're a serial killer. That's your beloved's mother. And all because she saw somebody who looked like you in the meadow on the morning Jess Edwards died.'

  Jay's chest constricted. After all these years, her banishment suddenly made a terrible kind of sense. 'Corinna was in the meadow?'

  'Apparently. Who knew?'

  'I don't understand. She saw someone in the meadow that she thought was me and she said nothing?'

  'Amazing, isn't it? I imagine she thought she was too closely linked with you in people's minds to give you up.'

  'Or she cared too much about Schollie's.'

  'Well, if she did, she's stopped caring now. Corinna's determined to bring you down.'

  Jay couldn't believe what she was hearing. The fear that had squatted for years in the back of her mind was becoming a reality. Nothing was more calculated to destroy the comfort and happiness of her new life. And that was something she couldn't allow to happen. 'How the hell has this happened? Jesus!'

  'It's OK. Be calm.'

  'Calm? How can I be calm?'

  'Because there's nothing to find, is there? These deaths were all investigated at the time. If there was any evidence of you being involved with a murder, the police would have been all over you. There's nothing to find, so there's nothing to worry about.'

  Jay clenche
d her fist, her nails biting into her palm. The urge to violence was as strong as it had ever been. How had she let things come to this? 'So why are you calling me? If there's nothing to worry about, nothing to find, why are you winding me up with this?' Her words emerged in staccato choppiness, as if she was biting them off one by one.

  'Because I thought you should know. I didn't want you to be blindsided. She's coming after you, Jay. It's better to be forewarned, don't you think?'

  'So now I'm forewarned.' Jay rubbed her forehead so hard her fingers left red streaks on her skin. 'Thank you.'

  'You know you're always welcome. I'm looking out for you, Jay. Always looking out for you. Always have been.' The voice was soft and seductive. 'But you know that. Right?'

  'Right.' She could feel a headache starting at the base of her skull. Not for the first time, she wished she could wind back the years and undo one single evening. 'And I appreciate it,' she said in a monotone.

  'Good. Let's meet up soon.'

  'Let's. I'm sorry, I have to go, I have a staff meeting to prepare. '

  'Good to talk to you. As always.'

  'And you.' Jay terminated the call and sat staring unseeing at her computer screen. Of course there was nothing to find. How could there be, after all this time?

  But all the same . . .

  Charlie found Nick sitting outside the courtroom where the case he was involved in was being heard. Dressed for court, he was smarter than she'd ever seen him. A well-fitting black suit, a pale blue shirt, a dark blue tie and well-polished shoes were an ensemble she'd never have imagined he owned, never mind one that he'd actually wear. He'd shaved and his hair, if not actually neat, had been brushed. He gave her a wan smile. 'Hey, Charlie.'