All those romantic notions he’d had, the curl of desire in the pit of his stomach when he saw Phil, and it had ended like this. A grotty assault in a men’s loo, an ordeal he’d thought was never going to end. A tear trickled down his cheek and he started to cry, quietly at first, until the sobs increased in intensity to match the shuddering of his body.
A hand touched his shoulder. It felt red hot against his skin. He recoiled, thinking Phil and Gus had come back.
‘It’s all right, they’ve gone. I was worried about you, and when I saw them leave I thought I’d better check.’
Ryan struggled to get his sobbing under control and looked up.
It was the girl from behind the bar. The one who didn’t make him feel inferior. The one who had tried to warn him about Phil. He wished now he’d listened to her. He could see her eyes taking in the situation, but there was no condemnation in them.
‘Are you OK?’
Was he OK? Of course he wasn’t OK. He felt like shit, but no way was he going to tell her that. He looked away from her and nodded, afraid to speak in case he broke down again.
Her hand tightened on his shoulder and she seemed to hesitate before she said, ‘Let’s get you out of here in case they come back.’ She held out her hand to him.
A surge of panic overtook him and he started to shake again. The thought of the two men returning spurred him into grasping her hand, and he stood up. The suddenness of the movement made his head swim and he clutched one of the sinks, leaning over it in case he was sick. He ran the cold tap and splashed water in his face. The dizziness and nausea abated, although it didn’t make him feel any cleaner.
‘My laptop.’ He looked around and saw it lying against a cubicle door.
‘I’ll get it,’ she said. ‘Now come on, let’s get out of here.’
She took him by the hand and led him out of the washroom, over to the bar, and into a small room behind it. She placed his laptop bag on one of the chairs, pointed to another one, and said, ‘Sit, and I’ll get you a drink.’ She left the room, quickly reappearing with a glass in her hand. ‘Drink this, you’ll feel better.’
Ryan sipped the liquid. It burned all the way down to his stomach. ‘I don’t drink whisky,’ he said. ‘In fact I don’t drink much at all, maybe wine with a meal, sometimes.’
‘Drink it,’ she said. ‘It’ll make you feel better.’
Her eyes seemed to have increased in intensity, and Ryan wasn’t sure whether they were green or grey, but they had these amazing flecks of brown in them. They had a hypnotic effect and he raised his glass and swallowed. She was right, though, he did feel better after he’d finished it. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, maybe another one would deaden the memory of what Phil and Gus had done to him. He held the glass out to her.
‘I told you it would help.’ Her voice seemed to come from a distance.
He opened his eyes. ‘Thanks, you were right.’
She took the glass from him. ‘My stint here is finished until later tonight. If you want to clean up and have a shower you could do it at my flat.’
Ryan studied her, not sure whether he was being propositioned. She seemed embarrassed by his stare and shook her brown hair with its amazing crimson streaks, so that it fell over her face. He usually felt intimidated by women, who all seemed to be taller than he was, but Kara was small and slim, not much bigger than him, and she was attractive. However, Ryan wasn’t interested in women or girls, although he was no longer sure he was interested in men either.
‘My mother,’ Ryan said, ‘she’ll expect me to drive her home.’ The thought of facing his mother after what had happened, and in his present condition caused a shudder of humiliation to vibrate through his body.
‘She’s already gone,’ Kara said. ‘One of the doormen came up to tell me she’d left you the car, that’s why I came looking for you. I should have interrupted what was going on, but I couldn’t. I knew Phil and Gus were in there with you, but I’ve had a run in with them before and they scare me.’ She shivered. ‘But the offer is there if you want it, and it would let you get cleaned up before you drive home.’
‘OK,’ he said, not sure what he was getting into.
Kara slung Ryan’s laptop bag over her shoulder and he followed her out of the club, and down the stairs.
The back door swished shut behind them. Ryan paused a moment to breathe in the fresh air. It was good to be outside again after the claustrophobic feeling of the night club. The weather had changed since he’d entered it a few hours previously, the sky had darkened with a thundery look, and spits of rain pricked his face. The car still sat where he’d parked it.
‘My flat’s in the next street. We don’t have far to go.’
The flat was up two flights of stairs in an old tenement, they wound upwards inside a turret shaped stairwell attached to the rear of the building. A large window halfway up barely illuminated the stairs because the glass was dirty, and a smell of cats and rotting rubbish hung in the air. Kara stopped outside a door that looked as if it hadn’t seen a paint brush for many years. She unlocked it and led him inside.
‘We’re here,’ she said. ‘It’s not much and it’s only temporary until I get something better.’
Ryan nodded. It wasn’t as clean as his mother’s house, but nothing could be that clean.
‘The shower’s in there.’ She pointed at a door. ‘There’s clean towels on the rail.’
The shower room was small, not much bigger than a cupboard, but the water was hot and Ryan let it flow over him until all the dirt and grime washed away. However, it did nothing for his inner feelings of uncleanliness, which he thought would be with him forever. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the shower when he heard the tap on the door.
‘I’ve made tea,’ Kara’s voice was muffled. ‘And I’ve sponged some of the marks off your clothes. They don’t look so bad now, although they may be damp in places.’
He turned the water off. ‘Thanks, I’ll be out in a minute.’
The bath towel was large and he knotted it round his waist before exiting the shower room.
‘Feel better now?’
He nodded. Heat rose from his neck into his face and he wondered if he was blushing. What did Kara expect from him? ‘Look, I’m not . . . I can’t . . . ’
Kara laughed. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not coming on to you. I only wanted to help. I’ve been in a tight spot with Phil and Gus before and I know what it feels like. By the way, if you’re thinking of involving the police, you need to know Phil’s a killer. He wouldn’t think twice about topping you.’
‘Police!’ Ryan hadn’t even considered it. ‘The last thing I need is cops knowing about what happened and making snide comments behind my back.’
‘Good thinking. Now get your clothes on while I go into the kitchen and pour the tea.’
Ignoring the drips from his hair, Ryan dressed as fast as he could. He was towelling his hair when Kara returned.
‘Hot and sweet, get it down you before you go.’
The tea was sickeningly sweet but Kara indicated it was good for shock, so he swallowed it before taking his leave.
It didn’t take him long to drive home after collecting the car from Teasers’ car park. Once he got there, though, he was reluctant to get out, the shame from what had happened burnt too fiercely within him. He sat, breathing deeply until his nerves felt less frazzled. He couldn’t sit there forever. It was time to face his family and act as if nothing had happened.
The house was quiet and at first he thought no one was in, however a light shone in the kitchen, his mother had probably returned home. The door slammed behind him. He’d meant to close it quietly but it slipped out of his fingers. He hesitated, then ran up the stairs. He would shower again before he faced his mother and Emma.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The fog in Bill’s brain increased as he tried to puzzle out what Emma was up to and what was happening to him. He wanted to ask her but couldn’t get his
mouth to work, even his arms and legs no longer seemed to belong to him. She must have slipped something into the tea. But why would she do that?
The effort to think was becoming too great, all he could do was watch her.
He’d first noticed the paralysis creeping over him when she removed the cup from his hand and sat down to study him. She’d had a strange expression on her face that made her look less like Emma. Funny, he hadn’t noticed it when she’d invited him in to the house.
Was it possible this was Jade? She and Emma were identical twins after all.
The syringe wasn’t a surprise, because why else would she have drugged him. It was how she operated. It was her signature.
The injection when it came was merely a pin prick, but when she depressed the plunger he could feel the warmth of the heroin travelling along his veins. Was this what the junkies meant by feeling a rush?
It was pleasurable and soon he floated above himself, lapsing into a drug induced coma where all he wanted to do was sleep.
The sound of a door slamming drifted to him from somewhere far away, but he didn’t even think of rescue, he was in such a pleasurable state. Neither did he notice Jade’s momentary alarm, nor did he see her slipping out the back door.
The sound of feet running up the stairs, so quiet it could have been rain pattering on the leaves of the tree outside, barely impacted on his consciousness.
Sleep came, and gradually the dark enveloped him.
* * * *
A waft of air drifted across the team room. Kate turned, thinking it might be Murphy returning, but groaned under her breath when she saw the imposing figure of Superintendent Logan marching across the room. He was accompanied by a tall, slim, unsmiling blonde woman of indeterminate age.
‘Ah, Detective Inspector Rawlings, Miss Christensen informs me you haven’t yet met.’
‘That’s correct,’ the woman said, holding out her hand for Kate to shake. ‘Astrid Christensen, procurator fiscal. It’s a wonder we haven’t met at the crime scenes.’
Kate detected a note of reproof in the woman’s voice.
Damn! She’d clean forgotten to contact the fiscal’s office about the murders.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if there’d only been one, but now there were two, there was no excuse. She should have remembered it was the fiscal’s job to be present at every crime scene, so she could weigh up the evidence and decide whether a prosecution should go ahead.
Kate realized she’d committed the unforgivable sin of keeping the fiscal out of the loop.
‘I understand you are new to the department.’
Now the woman’s tone was condescending, and Kate watched her exchange a tight-lipped smile with Superintendent Logan.
‘Yes,’ Kate said, trying hard not to sound undermined.
‘If you can update me on the progress of the investigation, that would be helpful.’
‘Of course.’ Kate looked over the room to where Sue was gathering up her belongings in preparation for her task of bringing Diane Carnegie in for questioning. ‘Sue, can you spare a minute,’ she said. ‘The procurator fiscal requires to be updated on our investigation.’
Kate led the way over to the whiteboard. ‘As you can see there are several strands in the investigation, some more obvious than others.
‘Firstly, we have two bodies, both men with no apparent connection to each other, and each one murdered by a drug overdose within the past few days.
‘The first one, John Gregson, a known paedophile from the Manchester area was found on Monday the 12th of March, but had apparently been killed on the Friday before.
‘The second body, that of Paul Carnegie, was found today, which is less than a week since the first murder was committed.
‘On the face of it these seem to be two isolated murders, but the thing tying them together is the jade beads which were pressed into each man’s eyes, and of course, the method of killing, plus the fact we now have reason to believe Paul Carnegie was a paedophile as well.’
The procurator fiscal studied the board intently. ‘What leads do you have?’
‘The whole investigation keeps coming back to the Carnegie family. Paul Carnegie’s ex-wife, Diane Carnegie, her daughter Emma, and son Ryan. There is also the question as to whether their other daughter, Jade, has returned from the dead.’
The fiscal raised her eyebrows but said nothing.
‘Jade was Emma’s twin, and she went missing five years ago when she was thirteen. It was presumed she was dead, but now there is some doubt. Diane, the mother, went through a mental breakdown after Jade’s disappearance, and still has mental health issues. She was also witnessed visiting Paul Carnegie’s flat yesterday evening. We are currently pursuing a plan to bring her in for questioning.’
‘How reliable is this witness?’
‘Not the most reliable. She’s the mother of a missing schoolgirl, Megan Fraser. She was the one who found Paul Carnegie’s body. She believes he abducted Megan and claims to have seen a photograph of her daughter on the murdered man’s computer.’
‘If that is the case, is it not possible she might have killed Paul Carnegie?’
‘That is a possibility, although I can’t see how it ties in with the previous murder.’
‘The missing child. What is happening there?’
‘A search of the area was instigated when she went missing, plus a door to door, plus press coverage. However, this is a child who has a history of running off and staying with friends or acquaintances, and we had no reason to think differently until Mrs Fraser said she saw her daughter on the victim’s computer.’
‘I see, and what are your plans now?’
‘DC Cartwright is currently examining all the photographs on Paul Carnegie’s computer to see if that gives us any leads to her whereabouts. But we do have another avenue I want to explore, and that’s Paul’s mother. He apparently had close contact with her and there is a possibility he might have a bolt hole on her estate. However, I’d need a search warrant to take that forward, and at the moment there’s insufficient evidence for that because we only have Mrs Fraser’s word there are photographs of her daughter in the computer, and as I said before, she’s not the most reliable witness. That’s why we need to find the photographs of the child first.’
Astrid Christensen turned to the superintendent who was perched on the edge of a desk and swinging his leg. ‘I’ve heard enough for the time being, Nigel, but I trust I’ll be kept informed.’
‘Of course.’ He smiled at her before turning towards Kate. ‘Make sure it happens.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Kate gritted her teeth and hoped it didn’t show through her smile.
‘Oh, by the way. I’d think twice before bringing a woman who has mental issues in for questioning. Particularly as the evidence is thin.’ With that parting remark, Astrid Christensen left the room.
‘Well, you heard her,’ Kate said to Sue. ‘We’d better hang fire on bringing Diane Carnegie in for questioning. We’ll do the softly, softly approach tomorrow, and maybe by that time Murphy will have graced us with his presence.’
* * * *
Megan’s head was fuzzy and she wasn’t thinking straight, maybe this was what dying felt like. The dark was as intense as ever and she was stiff and sore.
She dreamed of being in her mother’s arms, with her face pressed into her mum’s bosom, and it had felt all soft and warm. She relaxed, the past few hours had been a nightmare and she was safe, and she vowed never to take her mother for granted again.
Then she woke, back in the dark nightmare.
The sound of the lock, clattering against the wood of the door, aroused Megan out of her stupor.
He was back!
She tried to think of all the things she’d rehearsed to say to him, but her brain was full of cotton wool, and all she could focus on was the fear.
The dark shape in the doorway stood for a moment before approaching her. A hand reached out. Megan tried to shrink back into the corner,
but there was nowhere for her to go.
The hand grasped her arm, and a woman’s voice said, ‘Don’t be afraid. I’ve come to help you.’
Megan relaxed. She felt the cold steel of scissors snipping the rope round her wrists, and then her feet.
‘Can you stand?’
Megan struggled, pushing her arms on the wooden box at her side to give her leverage. ‘I think so,’ she said, but the words wouldn’t come through her parched lips and turned into a moan.
‘Good.’
The woman put an arm round her and helped her stagger to the door.
‘Now you must get as far away from here as you can.’ She released her hold.
Megan turned to where she could see a light shining through the trees.
‘No, not that way,’ the woman said, ‘he’ll find you if you go that way.’
She turned Megan to face the other way, where no light showed.
‘Go quickly,’ she said, ‘and if you hear any sounds following you, hide.’
Megan stumbled off into the darkness of the wood. She had to get as far away as possible. She mustn’t let him find her.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jade paused. She listened for a moment with her hand on the open back door, expecting to hear footsteps approaching the kitchen. When they clattered upstairs she considered returning inside and finishing the job, but it was too risky. With one final backward glance at the comatose body of Bill, she slipped outside, easing the door shut behind her.
She’d taken a chance with Bill, although she hadn’t expected to be disturbed so early. But it had been satisfying to dupe him into thinking she was Emma. It had all been going well until the front door opened. Now, sliding along the rear wall of the house, she couldn’t resist one final look through the kitchen window, to enjoy a fleeting moment of exhilaration because the policeman had succumbed. The drugs had done their work, there would be no coming back from the dark place he had lapsed into. Pity about the jade beads though, she would have liked to include the final touch, her message she’d been there. Still, it couldn’t be helped, and now she’d done her job, her mother would be safe from his vile intentions.
Missing Believed Dead Page 19
