‘Is she OK? She’s not hurt, or anything?’ May Fraser pushed her hair back off her face.
‘She’s not hurt, although she’s very cold and needs to be checked at the hospital.’
‘I want to see her. You said I could go with her once she was found.’
Sue placed a restraining hand on the woman’s shoulder. ‘We thought it best if we got her to hospital quickly, that’s why we used the helicopter, but I’ll make sure one of the police cars takes you there.’
The police officers had started to disperse to their cars, and Sue beckoned one of them over.
‘Can you arrange for Mrs Fraser to be taken to Ninewells Hospital to be with her daughter?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ The police officer turned to May Fraser. ‘If you come with me we’ll get you there right away.’
May Fraser walked off with him without a backward glance, or word of thanks, to Kate and Sue.
‘Thanks, Sue, you handled that well,’ Kate said. ‘I was getting to the end of my tether with that woman.’
‘I don’t suppose you can blame her,’ Sue said. ‘It is her daughter after all.’
Inspector Mason joined them. ‘Sue’s kept me up to speed on your investigation and I’ve left two men on guard at the hut. I’ll also leave a car here to keep an eye on Mrs Carnegie. I don’t trust that woman, and I think she played a part in what went on here.’
‘Thank you,’ Kate said. ‘Your help is most welcome.’
‘I’ve been in touch with SOCO, but they thought it would be best to wait for daylight to start investigating the hut and the surrounding area. In your absence, I agreed. I hope you don’t mind?’ There was an anxious look on Sue’s face.
‘No, I don’t mind,’ Kate said, ‘and now, I think you should go home and get some sleep. You’ve had a pretty exhaustive time here tonight, and there’s not much else we can do until morning.’
‘Yes, ma’am. I hope you’re going to do the same.’
‘I’ll do a phone check with Jenny first to make sure everything’s tied up at that end.’
‘Goodnight, ma’am.’
‘Team meeting at 9am,’ Kate said, and then dialled Jenny’s number on her phone.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Diane paced the floor, her hands picked at her skirt, and her hair flopped damply against her neck. Jade watched her with a worried frown on her face. Her mother seemed to be disintegrating in front of her eyes.
From the time the police had arrived at the house, Jade had remained in the shadows watching. Ryan seemed to have slid into a world of his own, sitting with a faraway look on his face, while Emma had simply been pathetic. She’d clung to her mother’s hand, supposedly to give her support, but it had seemed to Jade, that Emma needed more support for herself than she was able to give Diane.
Jade had itched to take over, but she’d waited her time until the detective with the owl-like specs had driven them to this bed and breakfast place. During the chaos of the move it had been easy to replace Emma, who seemed to have lapsed into an apathetic state. And now she was here, Jade wasn’t sure what to do for the best.
She’d thought she was helping Diane by disposing of the detective. What she hadn’t reckoned on was the depth of feeling her mother had for him, and watching her mother pace, she grew more and more disturbed. Maybe it would have been better to have allowed Emma to remain in charge, but now she was here she was unwilling to allow Emma back in.
‘Why don’t you get in the bed? You’ll feel better after a sleep.’
Diane stopped pacing momentarily. ‘I can’t sleep in that bed,’ she said. ‘Other people have slept there.’ She twisted her hands together in a washing motion. ‘There’s no way it can be clean.’
‘Of course it’s clean, mum. These places change the sheets daily.’
Diane made a snorting noise. ‘That’s what they say, but I don’t believe it.’
Jade stared out the window, watching the wind whip the trees in the garden, and the rain spatter off the patio.
‘So what are you going to do? You can’t pace the floor all night. You’ll be a wreck by morning, and that detective said they’ll want to question us again. You’ll be in no condition to be questioned.’
Diane gave no indication of hearing her, but she joined her daughter at the window. ‘Why would anyone want to harm Bill? He was a good man, and he was trying to help us. He said he’d find Jade and I believed him.’
Jade gripped her mother’s hand. She opened her mouth to tell Diane she was here, but choked the words back. It wasn’t the time. Diane wouldn’t understand and it was better to let her think it was Emma in the room with her.
‘I don’t think he was a good man. I think he was a risk to you. I could see him trying to weasel his way into your affections.’ Jade drew breath. ‘All he wanted was to get into your pants.’
‘Emma!’ Diane took a step backwards. ‘I’ve never heard you talk that way before.’ Both her tone of voice and the expression on her face indicated the level of shock she felt. ‘In any case I don’t believe it. He was a nice man.’
Jade clenched her teeth, she’d almost given herself away. She should have known that was something her sister would never say. It was going to be a long night.
* * * *
It was three in the morning before Kate staggered upstairs. She’d driven home in a trance-like state, it was as well the roads had been quiet. Gavin moved when she slid under the duvet.
‘You didn’t phone,’ he mumbled.
‘Sorry,’ she said.
She remembered when they were first married he used to wait up for her, worrying about her, and scolding her for not phoning. Over the years, though, he seemed to have grown accustomed to it, probably knowing that once engrossed in a case, nothing else impinged on her consciousness, and the last thing she ever thought about was phoning to let him know she would be late.
She pulled the pillow up round her ears and closed her eyes. But sleep evaded her and she lost count of the number of times she raised her head to look at the clock to find the hands had only moved five or ten minutes.
Outside the wind howled and the rain battered off the windows, and she played over and over in her mind, her vision of what Megan must have felt trapped in the quarry. She stumbled through the wood with her, felt her misery and fear, and wondered if the child’s experience would scar her for life.
It was a relief when the hands of the clock indicated seven, and she could throw back the duvet and slide her feet out of the bed. Her head felt woozy, but that would soon clear after she’d had a cup of coffee, and her usual slice of toast. It was all she would have time for if she was to be back in the office by half-past-eight.
* * * *
A hand gripped Bill’s wrist. ‘Ah, I see you’re awake,’ a voice said. ‘We’re going to take blood for testing.’
Bill turned his head in the direction of the voice, his eyes focusing on the needle and syringe, and he jerked away, trying to get out of Emma’s range. Her face loomed over him, familiar and yet not familiar.
‘It’s all right,’ the voice said, ‘a slight prick, and it’s over.’
‘I think he’s hallucinating,’ another voice said.
All Bill could see was the needle and syringe and Emma’s face, although he wasn’t sure it was Emma’s face. But he knew he couldn’t let her stick the needle into him.
‘Mr Murphy, you’re in hospital now. You’re safe. But we do need to take blood. It’s the only way we can be sure what else is in your system.’ It was a different voice, and Bill turned his head towards it.
When the sharp pain of the needle punctured his flesh, he screamed, ‘No!’
A hand grasped his. ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ the voice said. ‘Go back to sleep now until the effects of the drugs wear off.’
Nightmares bedevilled Bill for the rest of the night, and a lot of the time he was unable to distinguish between dreams and reality. He kept seeing Emma slide the needle into his arm an
d, although he tried to fight it, he was unable to move. Gradually he regained a grip on his senses, but was unable to make his body do what he wanted.
The night seemed to last forever. But when daylight crept through the window at the end of the bed bay, his brain was becoming more functional. He tried to puzzle it out, coming to the conclusion he had been suffering the effects of whatever drug Emma had put in his tea, because heroin would not have had the paralysing effects he’d been experiencing. If it was rohypnol, as he suspected, it would take at least eight hours to wear off. He looked at the clock, but was unable to calculate whether or not the eight hours were up.
The man in the bed opposite was shouting and cursing, and Bill wasn’t sure whether he was awake or asleep. Further down, the curtains were drawn round another bed, and Bill could hear the murmur of voices. He lay watching the clock and listening to the curses, and wondering why he was still here. Surely the effects of whatever was in his system would have worn off by now.
He decided it was time he did something about it, so he wiggled his toes, moved his arms and then his legs. Everything seemed to be working. But now came the critical test. Would he be able to stand up? He looked round the ward, but couldn’t see any nurses, and guessed they were all busy behind the curtains further down the bed bay. He slid his legs out of the bed and stood, holding on to the side of it for a moment before letting go. So far so good. He took a few steps, swaying slightly, but although his balance wasn’t as good as it should be, it was OK.
Now where were his clothes? Locating them inside his bedside locker, he pulled them out and dressed.
At that moment a nurse appeared round the end of the bed bay. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m taking myself out of here.’ Bill stared her out.
‘But the doctor needs to see you before you can be discharged.’
‘Tough,’ Bill said, ‘because I’m discharging myself. I’m quite at liberty to do that, you know.’
The nurse looked flustered, and Bill felt sorry for her.
‘Look,’ he continued, ‘I don’t want to get you in trouble, but I’m going. If you have any papers I need to sign to say I’m discharging myself, get them for me.’
‘You shouldn’t, you know. You need to be seen first.’
‘Just get the papers for me to sign.’
She vanished round the corner of the bed bay, returning a moment later with a bundle of forms.
Bill scribbled his signature where she pointed out it should go, then strode towards the way out.
‘We can’t be held responsible for anything that happens to you.’ The nurse’s voice echoed up the ward after him.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Thursday, 15 March
The ward door swung closed behind Bill. He hesitated for a moment looking at the stairs and the lift doors, and decided on the lift. It rose slowly, transporting Bill from level five to level seven, and freedom.
Bill always found the layout of the hospital strange with most of the wards on lower levels than the main entrance, and miles of corridors to traverse to get anywhere. And now he had to walk an endless corridor before he could leave.
The concourse, when he reached it, was quiet. The shops were shuttered and the only sign of life was the electronic noticeboard suspended from the roof, indicating the times of the next buses. A sleepy receptionist behind the main desk didn’t bother raising his head as Bill passed by. Meanwhile, automatic doors swung open on his approach, and he quickened his pace, anxious to leave the hospital behind him.
A blast of bitterly cold air hit him when he stepped outside the centrally heated building. He felt in his pockets for his wallet. It was still there, so he headed for the solitary taxi sitting in the stance, ignoring the bus idling its engine at the bus stop.
Bill paid off the taxi outside police headquarters. Wearily climbing the steps to the entrance doors, he walked through them into a deserted reception area. A policeman on duty nodded to him through the glass division, he nodded back, walked to the lift, pressed the buttons for the entry code, and headed upwards to the team room.
The room was empty, and he collapsed into his chair, glad no one could see him.
Since waking up in the hospital, his brain felt as if it had been through a meat grinder. Thoughts and flashbacks were jumbled together, until he was unsure what was fantasy and what was reality. He tried to concentrate on the previous evening’s events. He had gone to Diane’s house, but he wasn’t sure why. He forced himself to think back to when he got out of the car and walked to the door. So far, so good. In his mind, he raised his hand to knock, and the door opened. Good, he was getting events into some kind of order. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the person who answered his knock, opening them when he realized it was Emma.
Sadness engulfed him. Emma was such a quiet and self effacing girl, it was difficult to imagine her with a murderous streak.
He closed his eyes again and followed her up the hallway into the kitchen. That was when the flashback kicked in, and all he could see was Jade advancing towards him with the needle and syringe. He tried to move, but his limbs wouldn’t do what he wanted, and all he could do was watch.
His eyes snapped open in an effort to dispel the horror, but it was a few moments before he was able to breathe easily again.
So was it Emma, or Jade, who had tried to kill him? Or were they both the same person?
After shaking his head in an effort to clear it, he got up, went to the filing cabinet and brought out the Carnegie file. When he’d looked at it previously he’d concentrated on the police investigation and what happened, but all sorts of meetings had been held. He’d leafed through those, thinking they were unimportant for the current investigation. But maybe it was time he studied them in more depth.
The file was a thick one. He opened it and moved to the section containing the case conference minutes. The Social Work Department had been involved because Emma and Ryan had been children at the time, and there had been concerns because of Diane’s fragile mental state. And one thing social workers seemed to delight in was a multitude of meetings. Although, he couldn’t blame them for wanting to document everything, considering how much mud was slung at them when things went wrong.
He skimmed the bureaucratic stuff, who was present and how they were involved, and concentrated on what was written about Diane and her children. Screeds had been written on Diane’s mental state, her suicidal thoughts, and whether the children should be taken into care. Ryan was assessed as being young for his age, with no friends, which wasn’t surprising, because he didn’t like football or anything that resembled rough and tumble activities. He preferred reading, dressing up games, and computers. Emma, on the other hand, was something of a mystery. No one seemed to know her likes or dislikes and she was described as having lived in the shadow of her twin sister.
After the disappearance of her sister, Emma had lapsed into a catatonic state. She spoke very little and the only people she seemed to recognize were her mother and father, and Ryan. At one point consideration was given to admitting her to a mental hospital, but her mother resisted this and insisted she stay at home. However, she did see a psychologist on a regular basis. During her treatment, the psychologist reported times when Emma did not seem to know who she was, and insisted she was Jade. No psychiatric diagnosis was ever given, and Bill got the impression that when Emma recovered from whatever had been ailing her, everyone heaved a sigh of relief. It was noted in the reports Emma did not know she had suffered a mental breakdown, and was convinced she was the mainstay and support of her family.
Bill closed the file, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, while he concentrated on the information he’d read in the file. He’d heard of cases where more than one person resided in the same body. Wasn’t there a book called Sybil? Or something like that? Where one person had multiple personalities? The psychologists and psychiatrists gave it a fancy medical name he couldn’t remember. He had always thought it a lot
of rubbish and put it down to attention seeking, but maybe there was something in it after all. And now, after reading the file, it seemed possible Emma was more disturbed by the disappearance of her sister than anyone had realized, and that over the years she’d settled into the persona of the quieter twin. But if that was the case, who was she? Was she Emma, or was she Jade? On the other hand, maybe there were two of them.
Bill’s thoughts went round and round in circles, and he put his head in his hands and groaned. This case had turned out a lot more complex than he’d anticipated.
* * * *
Jade eventually fell asleep. She’d become frustrated because she couldn’t persuade her mother to settle down. She had always been the strongest twin, both physically and emotionally, but now she was forced to admit Emma might have been better in this situation. That admission riled her, she was used to thinking Emma was helpless and hopeless. She spent a restless night, tossing and turning, before deciding to go back into hiding and let Emma take over.
The sheets tangled round Emma’s body while she slept and when she woke the wind had dropped taking the rain with it. However the light filtering through the window was grey, bringing the promise of another miserable day.
The room was empty except for her mother pacing it, from door to window and back again. Jade had departed while she was asleep, and Emma had no recollection of her sister’s presence in the room.
Emma untangled the sheets from round her legs, and sat up. ‘Haven’t you slept?’
Diane didn’t stop pacing. ‘How could I?’ Her voice was little more than a murmur. ‘I can’t stop thinking about Bill Murphy and what happened to him in our house.’ Her fingers tightened on the material of her blouse.
‘But he’s nothing to us. It’s not as if he were family or anything.’
‘Maybe not, but he was a nice man and he was trying to help.’ Diane removed her fingers from her blouse and tugged at her hair. ‘It’s all my fault.’
Missing Believed Dead Page 25
