Perfect Dead

by Jackie Baldwin

  ‘On it, boss,’ said Stirling, tapping at his phone and turning away.

  ‘There’s a few large caves the other side of the Dundrennan Firing Range,’ said Mhairi. ‘Because of their location, no one ever goes there and they’re pretty much only accessible from the sea. As Ailish Kerrigan’s body was found within the range and he’s familiar with the area, perhaps he could have gone there?’

  ‘It’s worth a shot, Mhairi. Go and tell Stirling to pass that on to the coastguard.’

  A few minutes later, Stirling and Mhairi returned to the group.

  ‘If there’s no other leads, it might be worth heading down that way ourselves, sir,’ said Stirling. ‘The farm Thomson and I were occupying is nearby and the caves might be accessible from the cliffs. We could use the farm as a base of operations meantime.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Farrell. ‘Mhairi, can you contact the military, explain what’s happening and ask some of their men to rendezvous with us at the farm, bearing ropes and tackle for a possible cliff descent.’

  Mhairi, too, busied herself on her phone.

  Farrell wandered off to the water’s edge as everyone started getting in their vehicles. As he looked up at the enigmatic face of the moon turned towards him, he hoped and prayed that Lind was still alive and able to gaze upon it too.

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Lind woke up with a start, his eyes skittering around the cave. He was still shackled and so thirsty his tongue was stuck to the top of his mouth.

  ‘Water,’ he croaked.

  Halliday sighed in annoyance. Lind could hear a pencil scratching across the paper on the easel.

  ‘Keep still will you. I don’t have long to get this right. There’s really not much point in me giving you water. It will only prolong the inevitable, but I suppose if it will shut you up and let me get on …’

  Halliday walked over to him and dribbled some water into his mouth from an open bottle.

  Lind gulped greedily. His head felt woolly and swollen. He needed urgent medical attention, but could see no way, shackled as he was, to gain the upper hand in the situation.

  He knew Farrell would be looking for him by now, but he could already feel the sands of time running out. His thoughts drifted off again, to Laura and the children, and he took refuge in their company as his eyes closed once more. Suddenly, he heard the drone of a search-and-rescue helicopter coming closer. For a moment, hope flared within him. But the sound soon receded into the distance, until all he could hear was the scratch of the pencil as he retreated deep within his mind.

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Farrell came off the phone, his eyes glittering. He looked manic, thought Mhairi, and she worried that he was going to break down under the strain of the night’s events.

  ‘That was the coastguard,’ he said. ‘They think they’ve located the boat, pulled up on the shore not far from here. As instructed, they didn’t linger, so that Halliday doesn’t realize we’ve got the drop on his location.’

  ‘So he’s hiding in the caves then?’ said Mhairi.

  ‘There’s only one really deep one, apparently, so my money’s on them being in there. We need to move out now,’ said Farrell.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be safer to wait until first light?’ asked Stirling.

  ‘Yes, but we’re not going to,’ said Farrell. ‘We don’t know if Lind’s still alive, but I’m not going to sit here in the warm while he’s down there with that nutter. Because of the danger, I’d like to call for volunteers only. We’re going to have to make the descent over the cliffs in the dark, with the help of the two army boys Mhairi was able to rustle up. Anyone who feels unable to do that can wait here with my blessing.’

  ‘DS Stirling, we’ll need a senior officer to liaise between the various parties,’ he said, giving the older man a respectable out.

  ‘Bugger that, sir,’ said Stirling. ‘You can count me in for this one. DC Thomson has already been in the firing line today, so I reckon he’s the one who should man the base.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said Farrell. ‘DC Thomson, you’ve won the respect of every man and woman in the team today, but I’m afraid you have to sit this one out.’

  DC Thomson glared at him but shrugged in capitulation. He wasn’t fit enough yet and knew he would only slow them down.

  ‘Right, that’s settled,’ said Farrell. ‘Radio silence, please.’

  They crept over the wiry long grass towards the cliff edge. The two military men had come well equipped and motioned to them to stay back, until they had selected the best place to descend. Mhairi felt sick with nerves. It was a long way down and she had never abseiled before. Well, she was just going to have to bloody suck it up. Anything for the DCI.

  Farrell went first. He gave her the thumbs up as he lowered himself backwards over the cliff, then disappeared from sight. Stirling went next. His legs were visibly shaking, which made her feel a bit better.

  Soon, she was waved over and strapped into the harness. There was a roaring in her ears as she stepped off into the inky void. Initially she panicked and nearly wrenched her arm from its socket by trying to stop her descent. But then she remembered the instructions and let out the rope, bit by bit, until her legs finally connected with the rocky shore below. Farrell’s strong arms grabbed her and helped her shed the harness. Hopefully, the noise of the waves crashing against the shore would have drowned out any noise they made coming down.

  DS Forsyth and two of his men made up the six to advance into the cave. Guns cocked, the firearms team advanced, solid professionals to the core. Mhairi crept forward at Farrell’s heels, her baton held at the ready.

  Suddenly, a man ran out of the cave, heading for the boat. He was clutching a sketchpad. The closest member of the firearms team took aim.

  ‘Stop, Police!’ he yelled. ‘Put your hands in the air!’

  Halliday slid to a halt as the moon came out from behind the clouds. His teeth were bared, and his eyes glittered with rage. He looked feral. Crouching low, he attempted to run for a rocky outcrop.

  A shot rang out, and Halliday toppled to the ground. He lay there unmoving. Sergeant Forsyth ran over, felt for a pulse and shook his head.

  Farrell was already running into the cave with Mhairi and Stirling close behind him. The interior was cavernous, the walls lit with flickering light from a number of storm lanterns.

  Mhairi let out a cry of distress. Lind’s body looked lifeless. His eyes were closed and there was blood pooled under his head.

  ‘John! We’re here buddy, stay with us,’ yelled Farrell running forward to his friend. He felt for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

  ‘He’s alive, but only just,’ he yelled. ‘Hurry!’

  The two army boys came running with the spinal board and blankets they’d had strapped to their backs during the descent.

  ‘They’re going to take him to the neurosurgical unit at Glasgow,’ Farrell shouted over the noise of the approaching chopper. It was unable to land but they managed to winch up Lind successfully. It then turned inland, the sound of the rotor blades receding into the distance.

  Silence fell once more, aside from the rhythmical pounding of the waves. Farrell sat down abruptly on a rock, a spent source, as the power drained from his limbs. Mhairi felt light-headed herself. It was almost too much to take in.

  Nobody spoke for a few minutes. Feeling her teeth start to chatter with the cold Mhairi approached her boss.

  ‘What now, sir?’

  Farrell looked broken, like he was on the verge of collapse. He didn’t reply.

  She nudged him with her toe. He had to snap out of it. He was the senior officer and decisions had to be made.

  His head lifted, and his expression sharpened. He was back.

  ‘McLeod and Stirling need to stay with the body, pending the arrival of SOCO at first light. You can take shelter in the cave, and the army lads can lower down sleeping bags, blankets, and food before they leave. A plastic tent will also be provided, which can be erect
ed over the body to protect it from the worst of the elements.’

  ‘You’ll be all right?’ he asked, looking at Mhairi.

  She didn’t reply, staring past him at Halliday’s boat pulled up on the shoreline.

  ‘Mhairi?’

  ‘There’s someone in the boat!’ she shouted, taking off at a run. Farrell spun round and followed her. As they got closer they could see it was Maureen Kerrigan. Although she was bound and gagged, she’d managed to shuffle into an upright position. She was cold and shaking, but otherwise unharmed. They quickly freed her. She clung to Mhairi, sobbing.

  ‘I saw DCI Lind being taken away. Is he going to be OK?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Mhairi. ‘He looked pretty bad.’

  The army officers took Maureen away to winch her up the cliffs to where DC Thomson was waiting. Farrell turned to Mhairi.

  ‘Are you sure you’ll be OK until morning?’

  She stepped up and hugged him.

  ‘We’ll be fine, sir,’ she said. ‘I’m sure DS Stirling has plenty of war stories to pass the time. Let us know as soon as you hear anything about the DCI.’

  ‘You got it,’ said Farrell, turning to stride away.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  Farrell was bone-tired. He opened the gate and walked up the path to Lind’s front door, his heart heavy with the knowledge that Lind might never return home. The dawn chorus was already starting up, as the sun crept over the horizon sending out rosy fingers of light.

  The door flew open before he rang the bell. Laura stood there before him, her face swollen with tears. Without the need for words, he enfolded her in his arms. After a few moments, she pulled away and invited him into the warmth. They sat together on the settee, surrounded by memories of happier times.

  ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘Yesterday, he was fine and today they say he might never wake up again. I can’t comprehend it. It’s too huge.’ She started to cry once more, and Farrell passed her a handkerchief.

  ‘He suffered a heavy blow to the head that caused a bleed on the brain,’ he said. ‘They’ll have a better idea of his prognosis when the swelling subsides. For now, it’s in the hands of God.’

  ‘I wish I had your faith,’ she sniffed. ‘I’ve tried to pray, but all I feel is emptiness pushing back against me.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation, I can assure you that I’ve been praying loud enough for both of us,’ said Farrell with a wan attempt at a smile.

  ‘All those stupid arguments,’ she wept. ‘What was I thinking? It all seems so pointless now. The things I said to him …’ She beat at herself with her hands in a torment of self- loathing.

  ‘Hey,’ said Farrell, reaching across to grab her hands. ‘He loved you. He knew you loved him. The rest was just a bump in the road. Part of living and loving is rowing. He needs you to be strong for him now. Are you going to take the kids to see him today?’

  ‘Yes, my mother’s taking us all to Glasgow later. The doctors think it might help for him to hear our voices. I’ve told them that Daddy’s hurt his head and is having a big sleep so the doctors can make it better. I have an aunt in Edinburgh. She’s said we can all stay up there with her until things become clearer.’

  Farrell stood to go.

  ‘If you need anything, Laura, anything at all …’

  ‘You’ll be the first to know,’ she said.

  Somehow Farrell managed to drive himself home. It was fully light now, although the curtains were still drawn as he crunched down the path at Kelton. The River Nith at the foot of the lane was still and calm. Henry roused himself sleepily from his basket near the Aga and wound around his legs. Everything was the same, yet different.

  He walked slowly upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door. Then he lit a large beeswax candle, faced the small crucifix on his wall, sank to his knees, and prayed for the life of his friend with an intensity he had never known.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank my brilliant editor, Finn Cotton, for keeping me twisting like a fish on a hook until I could answer all the awkward questions including the exact nature of a Haggis Supper! This book would be a pale imitation of the finished product without his skill and diligence. Thanks are due also to my copyeditor, Janette Currie, and the rest of the team at Killer Reads. I would also like to thank the cover designer, Dominic Forbes, for his eye-catching and original cover.

  Writing can be a lonely occupation, but I am truly blessed to have the support, friendship and encouragement of Moffat Crime Writers and my Crime and Publishment gang. I would also like to thank my book group, Dumfries Readers, for their encouragement and enthusiasm. My friend, Barbara Witty, deserves a special mention for her role as my unofficial publicity assistant with a salary payable in cakes. A great number of bloggers have kindly either reviewed my books or hosted me for guest posts. I would like to thank each and every one of you for your support, which I deeply appreciate. Special thanks must go to Kelly Lacey at Love Books Group for doing such a great job organizing my blog tour. Finally, last, but never least, a huge thank you to Guy, Alex and Jenny for your unwavering love, tolerance and understanding. It is never easy living with a writer who has lost the plot!

  Enjoyed Perfect Dead? Try the first thriller in the Frank Farrell series.

  DEAD MAN’S PRAYER

  To find a killer, he must face the past

  Ex-priest DI Frank Farrell has returned to his roots in Dumfries, only to be landed with a disturbing murder case. Even worse, Farrell knows the victim: Father Boyd, the man who forced him out of the priesthood eighteen years earlier.

  With no leads, Farrell must delve into the old priest’s past, one that is inexorably linked with his own. But his attention is diverted when a pair of twin boys go missing. The Dumfries police force recover one in an abandoned church, unharmed. But where is his brother?

  As Farrell investigates the two cases, he can’t help but feel targeted. Is someone playing a sinister game, or is he seeing patterns that don’t exist? Either way, it’s a game Farrell needs to win before he loses his grip on his sanity, or someone else turns up dead.

  About the Author

  Jackie Baldwin practiced as a solicitor in a rural town for twenty years specialising in family and criminal law. She then trained as a hypnotherapist and now works from home. She is married with two grown up children and loves to walk with her two dogs in local forests. She is an active member of her local crime writing group. Perfect Dead is her second novel.

  @JackieMBaldwin1

  Also by Jackie Baldwin

  Dead Man’s Prayer

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