Trick of the Dark

by McDermid, Val

  She took a deep breath, trying to calm her agitation. She was as excited as a teenager at the prospect of seeing Lisa on her home turf. Charlie rang the bell and took a half-step back. Almost immediately, she heard footsteps approach and the door opened wide. Lisa grinned, Charlie's heart bounded and she stepped into open arms. 'It's great to see you,' she said.

  Lisa's lips grazed her cheek and her warm breath tickled her ear as she said, 'Perfect timing. There's still a couple of people here but they're about to leave.' Then she let Charlie go and stepped back, inviting her in.

  Even in this emotional state, Charlie's professional training took over. She couldn't help noting surroundings, letting them inform her judgement. The hallway was simply decorated. White walls and ceiling, parquet floor with the patina of age, four small abstract seascapes in heavy oils. Light from the stained-glass window splashed random colour, giving warmth. And at the heart of it, Lisa herself. Slim hips, wide shoulders, sleeveless top chosen to show the warm gold of her skin and the beautiful curves of clearly defined muscles, and a sassy gait that reminded Charlie of the catwalk. Lisa walked the walk that would attract people's gaze and talked the talk that would hold that attention on her.

  Charlie followed her into a sitting room furnished with a trio of sofas in cream chintz, a scatter of low tables and an elaborate Art Nouveau fireplace. A William Morris fire screen sat in front of it. French windows gave on to a long grassy expanse that ended in a wall of shrubbery. A man and a woman occupied two of the sofas, papers spread around them. Their eyes were already fixed on the door, waiting for Lisa.

  'Charlie, these are two of my colleagues. Tom and Linda. This is my friend Charlie,' Lisa said briskly. Everyone exchanged smiles and nods. 'So, that's it for today. When you've had a chance to let the new material sink in, email me with your comments. Otherwise, I'll see you in Swindon on Tuesday.'

  Tom and Linda gathered their papers together quickly and stood to leave. It was clear Lisa ran a tight operation. She waved Charlie to the vacant sofa as they were packing their things away. 'Coffee, tea? Juice? Water?' she said.

  If she truly only had an hour of Lisa's time, Charlie wasn't going to waste a minute of it on the boiling of kettles. 'I'm fine, thanks.'

  'I'll be right back.' Lisa was gently but firmly moving Tom and Linda out of the room, even though he was still trying to zip up his laptop bag.

  When she returned almost immediately, Lisa settled on the sofa at right angles to Charlie, tucking her legs under her and leaning on its arm so she appeared to be completely absorbed by her visitor. To Charlie, so accustomed to reading the body language of others, it was a welcome moment. 'So,' Lisa said, turning it into three distinct syllables. 'An interesting day.' There was the trace of a tease in her voice, the undercurrent of something that went beyond social pleasantries.

  Charlie smiled. She wanted to point out it was getting better all the time, but she was wary of sounding cheesy. Or predatory. 'Interesting company, too.'

  'So tell me all about it.' Lisa propped her chin on her arm and gave Charlie the full headlight stare. 'I love listening to you.'

  Charlie took Lisa through her encounter with the Newsams, keeping her narrative tight and to the point. She finished with a brief account of her meeting with Dr Winter, then leaned back. 'It all turned out to be much more dramatic than I expected,' she said.

  'No kidding. What an extraordinary tale,' Lisa said, her voice a low drawl. 'Your old tutor thinks Jay Macallan Stewart is a multiple murderer? I don't think I've heard anything that bizarre since Edwina Currie confessed to her affair with John Major.'

  'I thought so too, at first. But then it turned out Jay was in Schollie's on the day of the murder. And Helena Winter confirmed what Corinna had told her about the morning Jess Edwards died. And it started to sound… I don't know. Almost plausible.'

  Lisa laughed. 'That's a very big almost. What does Maria think about it?'

  The mention of Maria was a jarring moment. Charlie had managed to put her partner to the back of her mind ever since she'd arranged to meet Lisa. It was uncomfortable to hear her name from Lisa. 'I haven't had a chance to talk to her yet.'

  Lisa looked gratified. 'I'm flattered that you told me about it first,' she said. 'So what will you do now? Gently ease yourself out of the picture? I know you're an expert at working out what goes on in people's heads, but it sounds as if what Corinna Newsam needs is a proper detective.'

  'I know. But I thought I might take a look at it, actually,' Charlie said, a little tentatively. 'It's kind of interesting. And if there is something there and I can pin it down…'

  'I understand that it's tempting, Charlie. But even if you do uncover a miscarriage of justice, it's not going to redeem you in the eyes of the GMC,' Lisa said gently, her expression concerned. 'Or the readership of the Daily Mail.' It was a shrewd comment, demonstrating how clearly she understood Charlie's motives.

  'Maybe not. But it might make me feel better about myself.'

  'You're sure it's not just an excuse to revisit your own history? To time-warp back to a place and time when you were happy? When you had untainted possibilities in front of you?'

  Charlie pondered the idea for a moment. 'I don't think so,' she said. 'I don't dwell on the past. Besides, I still feel like I have possibilities of happiness. Sitting here with you, for example. That's a pretty good place and time for me.'

  Lisa ran the tip of her tongue along the inside of her top lip. 'For me too. Even though we haven't known each other long, I do feel a connection between us.'

  Charlie's heart leapt. There was no other way to describe that lurch in the chest. How could a few words provoke such a strong physical reaction? 'Some things you just can't ignore,' she said, clearing her throat when she heard how husky her voice had become. 'I really want to explore what's happening between us.'

  'But there's no rush, Charlie. We're going to be friends for a long, long time. I'm convinced of it. I think our vulnerabilities and our strengths mesh so well.'

  Charlie's mouth was dry. She wished she'd asked for a drink after all. 'You're right. Sometimes you just know. Right from the start.' She shifted so she was leaning on the arm of her sofa, her face closer to Lisa.

  'But if you're busy chasing shadows for Corinna Newsam, you're not going to have much time for anything else,' Lisa drawled, her voice filled with regret.

  Charlie wasn't dismayed. 'I'll make time.'

  Lisa gave her a long, considering look. 'I think you'll be wasting your time.'

  After the flirting, it felt like a slap on the face. Charlie's head jerked back. 'What?'

  'Trying to prove Jay Stewart is a killer, I mean.' Lisa laughed. 'What did you think I meant, Charlie?'

  Charlie didn't know what to say. Her emotions were ramping up then spiralling downwards. 'Why do you say I'll be wasting my time?'

  Lisa shrugged. 'It just doesn't seem very likely.'

  'Do you know her?' Charlie's professional wariness, hogtied thus far by her hormones, suddenly fought its way to the surface. Was it possible Lisa had another agenda here?

  'Not really,' Lisa said. 'We were up at the same time. But of course I was at Univ, so we didn't really cross paths very often. I knew her in that vague way where you bump into people at the same parties from time to time. She was a bit notorious — the dyke who'd made it to JCR President — so she attracted more attention.'

  'People knew she was a dyke? I thought she was closeted back then?'

  Lisa chuckled. 'She might have thought nobody knew. But you know how it is, Charlie. The rumour mill in Oxford grinds very small. Nothing gets past it. I was still only going out with men back then, but I knew Jay Stewart was a lesbian.'

  Charlie's heart bounded in her chest. Never mind what Lisa had said about Jay Stewart, 'I was still only going out with men back then,' she'd said. There was only one way to read that, and it refreshed Charlie's fantasies like spring water after a drought. The blood was beating in her temples, her mouth dry again. 'Sounds li
ke your gaydar was well developed for someone who was only going out with men.'

  Lisa leaned back on the sofa and stretched her arms above her head, fingers locked. Charlie was very conscious of how beautiful her arms and her breasts were. Lisa gave a mischievous smile. 'I guess I didn't realise it at the time, but even then I was good at spotting vulnerability.'

  11

  Monday

  Her morning shower had left Charlie still dazed with lack of proper sleep. Maybe the breakfast coffee would help. She'd had two nights of restless shifting about under the covers, trying not to disturb Maria. There was too much turmoil in heart and head and the hardest part, ironically, was not being able to share it with Maria. Charlie had grown so accustomed to seven years of Maria taking the weight of her dilemmas and decisions, it was strange to be keeping something from her.

  But at least she'd been able to talk to her about Corinna's bizarre request. She'd got home late on Saturday evening, still dazed from her encounter with Lisa. Her comment about vulnerability had marked the end of their conversation. Their hour was up, and Lisa's client's finger was on the doorbell. Charlie had swallowed her disappointment that this encounter hadn't moved their relationship further forward.

  She'd been too quick off the mark on that score. As she followed her host into the hallway, Lisa had turned to face her, moving backwards towards the door. She'd stopped then and reached for Charlie's hand, pulling her into an embrace. Charlie felt an explosion of light and heat inside her. This wasn't a friendly farewell kiss. This was the sort of urgent clinch that was a precursor to something hot and sweaty. It had come from nowhere, and even as she surrendered to it, Charlie realised it couldn't go anywhere. Even as lips and tongues and hands explored, the clock was ticking.

  The second ring on the doorbell startled them apart. Charlie was flushed and panting. Lisa, two spots of colour on her cheeks, gave her a twisted, flirtatious smile. 'To be continued,' she said.

  And opened the door.

  Charlie's departure had been a blur. She barely noticed the man who had arrived. She registered Lisa's casual farewell, wondering at so abrupt a shift from one state to another. Then she'd stumbled back to her car, not entirely convinced she was fit to drive. She'd sat for a while, trying to process what had just happened, attempting to divorce her emotional response from a dispassionate analysis of Lisa's behaviour. That turned out to be a waste of time too; her thoughts simply chased their own tails.

  She wasn't quite sure where the time had gone between leaving Lisa's and arriving back home in Manchester close to midnight. Seven hours for a three-and-a-half-hour drive. She had a vague recollection of sitting in a coffee shop at a motorway services, but the rest was a blur. Telling Maria about the Newsams had been a welcome distraction when she'd finally fallen into bed.

  Maria had been more interested in Corinna's story than Charlie had expected. 'It's fascinating,' she'd said, snuggling into Charlie's back. 'The way that "mother lioness protecting her cubs" thing clicks into place. Corinna clearly wasn't that bothered about Jay Stewart's murderous ways when it was other women's kids in the frame. But put her daughter anywhere near harm's way, and she's calling in the heavy artillery. What are you going to do?'

  'I'm not entirely sure,' Charlie had prevaricated. 'One minute I think it's Corinna's paranoia, then I go about-face and think there's too much lurking in Jay's past to be coincidence. It's hard to get my head round the idea that this charismatic, successful businesswoman could be a serial killer.'

  'You're going to do it, though. Aren't you?' There was a note of resignation in Maria's voice.

  'You think I should?'

  'I was thinking about it while you were gone. And while there's part of me wants you to steer clear of other people's battles, I've got to be honest with myself. I know you, Charlie. You need something to keep your mind from eating itself like a rat in a trap.' Maria put her arm on Charlie's thigh. It was a movement of consolation, not eroticism. 'We'll talk about it tomorrow.'

  And they had talked about it. On and off, they'd talked about it most of the day, teasing every last drop of possibility from what Charlie knew. Because Maria was familiar with none of the players, Charlie had confidence in her judgement. Maria wasn't swayed by her history with Corinna, her sympathy for Magda, or her inclination to believe Lisa's estimation of Jay Stewart.

  'The trouble is, you don't do well when you haven't got something to worry at like a dog with a bone,' Maria had said finally and firmly after dinner. Neither of them was paying much attention to the Sunday-night BBC costume drama; it had reached a quotient of silliness that neither could easily bear. The drama on the fringe of their own life was much more interesting.

  'I've still got some teaching.'

  'That's not what I mean. Your job's all about getting to the heart of the really difficult stuff. Challenge is what you thrive on. When that's not there, you don't know what to do with yourself. It's hard for someone who loves you, watching how difficult it is for you not to have a problem to wrestle with.'

  Charlie snorted. 'I've had plenty of problems, thanks to Bill Hopton.'

  'I don't mean that kind of problem. I know you've been trying to put together a defence for the GMC, but that's not the sort of challenge that keeps you on top form. It's more like you need a puzzle. A conundrum. Something to stretch your imagination. You've always needed that. That's why you did so well, working with the police on the profiling. That was high-stakes problem solving. You haven't had anything like that since you had to hand over your caseload. And it's bad for you, Charlie.'

  'And you think raking around in the ashes of Jay Stewart's past is what I need to get my mind working properly?'

  'I can't answer that for you. But I suppose the question is, why not?'

  'For starters, I'm not a detective. I'm a psychiatrist. I don't know how to gather evidence and build a case.'

  'Don't be silly. It's exactly what you do all the time. You spend your life gathering evidence on people's mental states then putting together conclusions based on what you've figured out.'

  'It's not the same,' Charlie protested. 'I'm not a cop. I don't have access.'

  Maria poked her in the ribs. 'You've been watching the cops for years. You've sat in on enough interviews. And nobody is better at blagging their way in where they're not supposed to be than you. Who always manages to get us into the executive lounge at the airport?'

  Charlie giggled. 'Not always. Remember that intractable cow at Charles de Gaulle? I thought she was going to get us arrested.'

  'Don't try and change the subject, Charlie. If Corinna's even vaguely on the money, then the stakes are certainly high enough. You're looking at righting a miscarriage of justice and putting a stop to someone who might see murder as the most efficient way of getting what she wants. And if she is right, and you prove it, then you get to set up camp on the moral high ground. It would make it hard for the GMC to come down against you if you're the hero of the hour.'

  It was interesting, Charlie thought, that Maria's view on the publicly redemptive power of such a success was almost the exact opposite of Lisa's. It was hard to know whose judgement was more likely to be on the money. Charlie leaned her head on Maria's shoulder. 'This wouldn't be a get-out-of-jail-free card for Bill Hopton, sweetheart. That's not going to go away, however the thing with Jay turns out. I still can't escape knowing that if I'd pushed harder for him to be sectioned, four women would still be alive.'

  Maria tutted. 'You know that's not true. You said yourself there was no basis for locking him up as the law stands. You'd have had to lie to have him committed. And you'd have had to persuade another doctor to lie too. And even if you'd been successful, he'd have been released in the long run. You know that. And then it would just have been four different women. So stop beating yourself up and focus on something where you can do some good. Either find evidence against Jay, or exonerate her.'

  Stretching out on the sofa, Charlie laid her head in Maria's lap. 'You make a strong arg
ument. But there is one other thing that makes me hesitate.'

  'What's that?' Maria started fiddling with Charlie's hair, running her fingers through it, twisting locks into corkscrews and watching them spring straight again. It was a familiar routine that always relaxed Charlie.

  She wriggled herself more comfortable. 'Lesbian solidarity. Am I being an Uncle Tom? Am I letting myself be used in what's essentially a homophobic witch hunt? Would Corinna have called on me if Jay had been a bloke?'

  'Maybe. Well, probably not, if I'm honest. But if Jay had been a bloke, Corinna wouldn't have known anything about his past. So the question would never have arisen.'

  Charlie smiled. Trust Maria — down-to-earth, practical Maria — to resolve at least one of the questions that had been torturing Charlie with a piece of logic that she should have had the sense to come up with herself.

  'Besides,' Maria added, 'you're not obliged to share your conclusions with Corinna. You're not a private eye. She hasn't hired you. You can do whatever you think best with whatever you uncover. Tell Corinna or not. Tell Magda or not. Tell Jay or not, even.'

  So Charlie had settled her argument with herself and decided to do what Corinna had asked. In spite of Lisa's conviction that Jay was no killer, Charlie would chase down whatever evidence might still be found and weigh it in the balance.

  It had seemed a straightforward choice at bedtime, but by morning it had become a thorny problem again. Charlie stared into her coffee, frowning. It was all very well, setting herself up to investigate Jay. But where could she begin? What was she even looking for?