by Tony Black
McAlister stared back at the detective, seemed to be digesting the comment. ‘Do you think Adrian was abused too?’
The DI shrugged. ‘It seems more than likely, but who knows?’
‘He sacrificed what was left of his own life.’
‘Do you think he felt like he had a life? He despised himself too: he was his father’s son. He had the beast’s genes.’
As they got closer to the grouping, Valentine could see the pain etched on Diane Cooper’s face. The inevitable tears traced the outline of her cheeks, but it was the far-away glare in her eyes that haunted him the most.
‘Don’t get me wrong, boss, I’m not crying for any of them, except Janie and the others.’ McAlister shook his head and squinted towards the sky. ‘Just why did the bastard have to kill Leanne?’
‘That sticks with me too.’
‘She’d been through enough.’
‘Her whole life was suffering, and I think Adrian Urquhart saw that, he knew the territory . . . Maybe in some perverse way he thought he was doing her a favour, putting her out of her misery.’
‘That and he wanted the spotlight.’
‘I don’t doubt it, Ally, but there’s more goes on in here’ – he tapped his chest – ‘than we’ll ever know.’
Diane Cooper’s husband seemed to be holding her up, one arm around her back and the other grasping her shoulder like she might blow away. When he saw the detectives, Billy Cooper looked up and showed a slim smile that poured alms on any fears Valentine had that they were intruding.
‘Hello,’ said the DI, his voice a soft whisper. ‘I’ve brought all we have.’
As he placed the small box down beside the freshly dug hole, the minister hurriedly took to arranging the little red duffel coat, sandals and satchel in the ground. He peaked the coat’s hood above the shoulders and then placed the satchel below the line of the coat’s hem; finally, he rested the two sandals beneath the bag. There was a girl who had once owned the carefully arranged items and it was not difficult to imagine her returning for them now.
A hand touched Valentine’s arm.
‘Thank you.’ Diane Cooper was holding out something to him: at first it seemed only a blur in his peripheral vision, but as she raised her hand he saw it was her daughter’s doll.
‘Are you sure?’
She nodded, and the wind fluttered the edges of the white handkerchief in her hand. ‘She loved that doll.’
‘Then she should have it.’ He kneeled down and placed the doll beside the satchel, as if placing it in Janie’s hand.
A final pained smile passed between Valentine and the Coopers, and then the minister gathered his hands together and stood beside the artefacts of the dead in silent prayer.
COPYRIGHT
First published 2014
by Black & White Publishing Ltd
29 Ocean Drive, Edinburgh EH6 6JL
www.blackandwhitepublishing.com
This electronic edition published in 2014
ISBN: 978 1 84502 777 3 in EPub format
ISBN: 978 1 84502 776 6 in paperback format
Copyright © Tony Black 2014
The right of Tony Black to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Ebook compilation by Iolaire Typesetting, Newtonmore
