“Probably. Poor wee cow. She’s had a miserable life and it’s not going to get any better.”
“I’ve got the horrible feeling you’re right.” She sat back in her seat cradling her cup of tea. “ So what’s the move this morning Boss?” she said, still trying to draw his mind from his personal problems and focus on the task in hand.
“I want to talk to Maggie about her dead parents-in-law and I want to talk to Mark. Lauren told me Seth works for him sometimes.”
“Seth, in an antiques shop?”
“My thoughts exactly. I want to ask him exactly what he does.” He glared down at his phone when it rang, convinced it was Natalie. He snatched it up. “You’d better be calling me from the hospital,” he hissed.
“Is that a threat?” said a man’s voice.
Brodie was thrown. “Who is this?”
“DS Clarke. I’d really appreciate it if you and your associate could come in for a friendly chat.”
“I used to be a police officer Clarke, I know a friendly chat will turn into a full blown interrogation.”
“Is there anything we should be interrogating you about?”
“No.”
“In that case you’ve nothing to worry about. We’ll see you both in an hour. I’d hate to send a police escort for you.” Clarke’s tone was cold.
“That won’t be necessary. We’ll be there.”
“I’ll be waiting for you in reception.”
Brodie hung up and looked at Cass regretfully.
“What have you done?” she said.
“Clarke wants us to go into the station for a chat.”
“Oh wonderful, he thinks we’re something to do with The Carver case.”
“It’s not that, he probably just wants to hear what we know about The Creegans.”
“You already told him.”
“Obviously he thinks we’re holding out on him. Come on, we’d better go.”
“If I get arrested I want double pay,” she said as they exited the hotel.
“Time and a half?”
“Done.”
Clarke, good as his word, was waiting for them at the reception desk in the police station. He looked friendly enough but Brodie wasn’t fooled. Once they were in that interview room he would drop into the hard act.
“Thanks for coming in Mr MacBride, Miss Carlisle,” he said. “This way.”
He swiped his card in a heavy duty door next to the reception desk and they followed him into the depths of the station.
“In here please Mr MacBride. Miss Carlisle, my colleague will talk to you in the next room.”
Cass looked up at the burly, stone-faced detective waiting outside a battered plywood door. “Don’t forget, time and a half,” she mumbled to Brodie.
“I won’t,” he said before being led into an interview room by Clarke.
“Please sit,” said the detective, gesturing to a chair.
Brodie sat and Clarke took the chair on the other side of the desk.
“You’ve got an impressive record ex-Detective Inspector MacBride,” began Clarke. “Why did you stop being a copper?”
“I got fed up of scumbags getting away with murder, literally, despite my best efforts.”
Clarke flashed him an understanding smile. “I think we can all sympathise with that. Your business seems to be thriving too.”
“It is. You’ve done your homework.”
“When someone tells me they know more about an investigation than I do then I think it prudent to check them out. That part of your story stands up, thanks to DI McLaren at Glasgow, but you’ve ingratiated yourself into The Carver case and I don’t like that.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“Because of this client of yours?”
Brodie nodded. “I’ve never failed to close a case yet and I don’t intend to start now.”
“You’ve solved cases that have had several police forces stumped. How did you manage that?”
“I have good people working for me.”
“And you’re more in a position to bend the rules.”
Brodie just shrugged.
“It seems you get results, which is why I want you consulting on this case.”
Brodie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“As long as Miss Carlisle’s story tallies with your own…”
“It will.”
“…then I want you working with us. We’ve reached a dead end with The Carver case and, to be quite frank, we need all the help we can get. I’m not ashamed to admit that but my superior, DCI Hillyard, is. He won’t give you an easy time of it. But this isn’t about our egos, it’s about stopping a man from killing more women so we’re prepared to put pride aside. You used to be one of us, you know the form but this is kept strictly between us. Only me, you, Miss Carlisle and my superiors DI Birtwistle and DCI Hillyard are to know and you certainly don’t talk to the press.”
“I never do, despite their best efforts.”
“Then we shouldn’t have a problem. I’m going to tell you something about the case, something we’ve managed to keep a lid on.”
“And what’s that?”
“We think The Carver isn’t operating alone.”
“Two killers?”
“We don’t know if both are killers but he certainly has an accomplice, someone complicit in the crimes.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The victims were well looked after, up until he started carving stuff into them but they’re held for two or three days before he starts using them as a canvas. One person alone couldn’t look after them like that and maintain their usual routine. We also think he has someone helping him take the victims. Despite the number of witnesses in the nightclubs no one ever saw them leave with a man.”
“Interesting,” said Brodie thoughtfully.
“It hadn’t occurred to you?”
“No,” he said, feeling a little embarrassed after all his boasting.
“Oh,” said Clarke in a way that indicated he thought he’d overestimated the berk sat across the table from him. “But that puts an entirely different spin on the matter if you think the Creegans are involved. If Seth is The Carver who do you think could be helping him?”
“Lauren,” Brodie replied without hesitation. “She’s completely terrified of him, she’d do anything he’d say and be too scared to grass him up. Plus he seems to control most aspects of her life. Twenty two years old and she’s never had a boyfriend, never lived alone. No wonder she starts fires, it’s the only way she can get some control.”
“We’ve checked out all the family’s alibis.”
“And they alibi each other?”
“Yep, unfortunately, but your Lauren theory makes sense. I’ve interviewed her a couple of times and she’s always been a bag of nerves, she’d make the perfect submissive partner in these crimes. It follows that the dominant would be male as well as someone who’d been involved in the original murders, or at least was around at the time.”
“Mark would be submissive to Seth too I think,” said Brodie. “And he’s already killed once, that we know of.”
“Twins are said to have the closest bond.”
“But those two aren’t close. Mark has his own life,” said Brodie, talking himself out of his own theory. “Maggie would be a possible too but she’s not as pliant as Lauren, I can’t see Seth manipulating her. Unless the accomplice doesn’t need to be manipulated, maybe they enjoy it?”
“Murderous partnerships usually have a submissive partner and a dominant one,” pointed out Clarke.
“One thing I’ve learnt is that there are always exceptions to the rule. Nothing in this world is black and white. It’s just one big blob of grey.”
“You have a point there. Despite their alibis the Creegans have remained persons of interest. You’re in with the family.”
“Only with Sarah and she doesn’t seem to need my services anymore. Lauren likes me too but she’s very unstable. I don’t want to keep
pushing her.”
“You still have influence. Use it to find out what you can.”
“I’ll do my best but I can’t promise anything.”
“Give me a minute to confer with my colleague.”
Clarke got up and left the room, leaving Brodie to lean back in his seat and clasp his hands behind his head. If he was truthful with himself he was a little relieved he wasn’t under arrest. He spied the camera mounted on the wall in the corner of the room and grinned up at it.
Clarke returned just a few seconds over the requested minute. “Miss Carlisle has confirmed everything you’ve told me, so do we have a deal?”
Brodie nodded and shook the hand Clarke extended, his grip strong and warm.
“You’re free to leave. Here’s my card,” said Clarke. “Call me the second you find out anything.”
“Will do,” said Brodie, pocketing it, the card joining all the junk in his jacket pockets. He exited the room to find Cass already loitering in the corridor.
“Well, what’s going on?” she said.
“You’re working for us now,” said Clarke. “I’ll show you out.”
“What?” she frowned.
“I’ve agreed that we’ll cooperate with the police in their investigation into The Carver,” explained Brodie.
“Right, okay,” she said, sounding a little confused but not arguing.
“Thanks for coming in and keep in touch,” said Clarke, escorting them out of the building.
“What just happened?” said Cass as they walked back to the car.
“The police are completely stuck, they’ve heard about our excellent reputation and they want our help.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d been asked to help the police but this had still come as a surprise. “That copper was so abrasive I felt sure I was going to get nicked,” she said.
“They were just testing that our stories tallied.”
“I suppose. So what do we do now?”
“I wish I had a sodding clue.”
“You don’t know?”
“Nope,” he said before jumping into his car.
Cass got into the passenger seat and grinned. “This is a first. I’ve never known you not have a plan.”
“Let’s look at what we’ve got. We’re pretty sure Seth Creegan is The Carver and we know he’s been drug dealing. Now his competition is out of the way…”
“And we helped him achieve that.”
“…it’s an open field for him.” He hesitated before adding, “what if he saw us at the hospital with Lauren? Or what if she told him about our conversation?”
“He couldn’t know I was going to turn up at his work.”
“It would be a reasonable assumption.”
“You think he set it up?”
“Maybe. No, he couldn’t have, it’s too improbable.”
“Improbable that Haines turned up at the bar when I was there?”
“You have a point. Have we just been played?”
“Looks like it.”
“I don’t like being played,” he growled, eyes turning sherry cask. “I want to nail the slippery bastard to the wall.”
“You’re sure Seth’s The Carver?”
“My gut’s telling me he is. Clarke thinks he’s got an accomplice.”
“Who?”
“Lauren. She’s the most likely suspect.”
“It might not be anyone in the family, it could be someone with the same sick impulses. He probably knows loads of not nice people.”
“Perhaps,” said Brodie, staring at the steering wheel.
Cass sat patiently beside him and when a full minute had passed without him speaking or moving she said, “trying to figure out what to do next?”
“Yep.” He released a long, slow sigh. “Seth’s keeping it in the family, he has to be. He likes control, he craves it. He didn’t like Sarah joining the family because it meant he lost his control over Mark, so he exerts even more force over Lauren to compensate.”
“You’re starting to sound like Prosser.”
“He might be an old perv but he did have some good ideas. He told me Seth has the violent emotions of an adult male but the control of a child.”
“But The Carver is all about precision.”
“This is his work, it’s art to him. He’s making something special, something to impress, like a wean doing a picture for…” His eyes widened when he realised what he’d hit on.
“Mummy,” ended Cass for him.
“Seat belt on Cass. You’re about to meet the Creegan matriarch.”
Maggie looked furious to see Brodie and Cass on her doorstep but as she inhaled, preparing to give them a gobful, she launched into a coughing fit instead.
“We have to talk to you Maggie, it’s important,” said Brodie, brushing her aside and stepping into the house. Cass followed, grimacing as she got an earful of Maggie’s hacking cough.
After more phlegm throat-clearing Maggie finally recovered her voice. “Get the hell out of here, I don’t want you in my house.” Her eyes fixed on Cass. “Who are you?”
“This is Cass, she works for me,” explained Brodie. “We’re not going until you start talking. Women are dying and it has to stop.”
“What are you on about?” she said, sparking up another cigarette.
“The Carver.”
The lines in her face popped out as she frowned, eyes disappearing into the folds of wrinkled skin. “What the fuck has that got to do with me?”
“I think you know. You’ve always known Maggie.”
She sighed and took a deep drag on the cigarette then raised her face to the ceiling, smoke spilling over her lips.
“It’s not going away, you can’t bury your head in the sand anymore.”
“Fine,” she eventually spat. “We’ll talk but you keep your voices down. Lauren’s asleep upstairs and I don’t want her disturbed.”
Neither did Brodie. He’d had enough of being molested.
They followed Maggie into the brown lounge and she gestured for them to sit with a wild stab of the cigarette. Brodie glanced at Cass and saw her eyes flicking about the room. From her expression he knew she was thinking exactly the same thing he had on his first visit here.
“Get on with it then, Seth’s due back in an hour,” said Maggie, sitting in the chair by the television and crossing her skinny, wrinkled legs.
“Your husband Bryan was The Carver,” opened Brodie. “Somehow Seth found out and now he’s copying Daddy in an attempt to impress you.”
Maggie released a smoky snort. “Seth’s never tried to impress me in his life, he doesn’t give a shit what me or anyone else thinks.”
“He does, every little boy cares what his Mummy thinks.”
“So you think he’s The Carver and he’s killing these women, to do what? Make me give him pocket money again?” she sneered. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Did Bryan tell you he was the Camden Carver?” said Brodie.
Maggie hesitated, thrown by the sudden change in topic. It was one of Brodie’s favourite interview techniques because in that split second of confusion you could usually spot an emotion that the subject wasn’t quick enough to hide. It was the case now. For a moment Maggie had genuinely looked scared.
“You did, didn’t you?” he pressed.
Her features arranged themselves into a good impression of rock. “I knew nothing.”
“You didn’t wonder why your husband kept disappearing at night?”
Maggie leaned forward in her seat and pointed her cigarette at him. “He kept beating the shit out of me and the kids so it was a relief when he was out of the house. Plus you never questioned Bryan. If you did you got a fist in your gut.”
“I can understand that.”
“No you can’t,” she hissed.
“I can,” he said with meaning. He’d never forget the feel of those fists when he was a kid.
“Oh,” said Maggie, deflating slightly.
“He is not The Carver,” she snarled.
“Yes he is and you know it.”
She shot to her feet. “That’s it, I’ve done talking. Fuck off.”
“Maggie, women are dying. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It’s sod all to do with me.”
“It’s everything to do with you. You’re at the centre of it. Every woman in the original case resembled you and the women dying today look like a younger version of you.”
“Lots of women have dark hair and eyes.”
“No, it’s more than that. Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you’re still alive.”
“What do you mean?” she demanded, her hand holding the cigarette shaking slightly.
“I mean every time Bryan killed a girl he was really killing you and his mother.”
“That is a load of bollocks,” she yelled.
“You’re shaking Maggie.”
“No I’m not.”
“You know I’m right. Bryan’s mum abused him and at first he was killing her each time he killed a girl, but you reminded him of his monster mummy so you became the focus of his anger instead. He was working his way up to killing you. Or did he try? Is that why he ended up dead?”
“Stop it. Get the fuck out of my house right now.”
“We’re going nowhere until we’ve got the truth. What did you do when you went into the back garden after your husband was killed? Were you hiding evidence of his guilt before the police arrived?”
“Leave me alone,” she bellowed.
“What’s going on? Why are you shouting Mum?” said Lauren, entering the room, eyes bleary, hair tangled.
“Go back to your room,” Maggie told her.
But Lauren wasn’t listening. “Brodie, you’re back. I’m so glad to see you.” She ran to him and flung her arms around his waist while throwing Cass a jealous glare.
“Don’t go getting attached Lauren,” hissed Maggie. “He was just leaving.”
“I want him to stay.”
“Go to your room, we’re talking.”
“I don’t want to go to my room,” she said, jutting out her lower lip, keeping her arms locked around Brodie.
Unfinished Business Page 22
