‘Well?’ They both ask at the same time.
‘I’m officially a basket case,’ I say, my grin like a challenge. ‘I need to see a shrink and get signed back as fit for work.’ I sit at my desk and scan the papers that crowd the surface. It’s quite the contrast to the super-organised one I’d just been dressed down in front of.
This is all delay tactics. I don’t want to send my thoughts inwards. Then I might have to think about the Davis family and their lost boy. I can already see Helen Davis’s face. First a husband. Now a son. How will she ever recover? I open the drawers. There’s nothing here that I want to take with me.
‘Helen Davis?’ I ask, hoping beyond hope that she gets the official word before she learns of Matt’s death on social media.
‘Harkness is on his way,’ says Daryl, his voice deep and sombre. ‘Took one of the newbies. They have to go through that sort of thing soon enough.’
I nod. Stand and leave the room.
Ale catches up with me in the car park. She gives me a hug. My arms are down by my side, and I can’t quite bring myself to share in the gesture. That would mean I was deserving.
‘I saw you, Ray,’ she says as she pulls away from me. ‘I’m sure it was you. On the way to the bridge. We passed in the car and I caught a glimpse…’ She broke off. The wind catches a strand of her hair, blows it to the side like it’s a pennant. ‘It looked like…’ She crosses her arms as if less sure of what she is about to say. ‘What were you doing down by the river?’
I see someone else I’ve let down. Someone else who’s view of me has been diminished. Her eyes are full of sympathy, and I feel my gorge rise and I’m down by the river, body tilted towards the fall, considering the water’s invitation and that final welcome silence.
I wouldn’t have done it. Would I? People say it’s the coward’s way out. I just learned differently. It would have taken more courage than I will ever possess.
My smile is a brittle thing, and my eyes are stinging.
‘I was just taking in some air, Alessandra. Just taking in some air.’
45
Leonard is sitting on a bench under a tree. The cloud cover clears and he turns his face up to the sun. Holds there for a long moment, accepting the heat like a blessing.
He rolls his head, feels the crack in his neck when his head tilts to the back. Could life get any better?
Planting that seed on social media worked a treat. Of course, those boys didn’t actually want Matt Davis to die. Their blood was up. They wanted to feel knuckle on flesh. Make sure the boy suffered some pain and then leave him to the police.
But the hunt was on, and when they caught him, no one really knew what to do. It was a real gift that Davis took such evasive action. Leonard couldn’t have planned it better.
Every cell is sparking. Blood is dancing through his veins. His brain is so big he notices everything. Locks it all in.
He thinks about Simon Davis. The boy will be in the first stage. He’ll need Leonard’s help, and the thought is enough to set off heat and joy through his entire body. He places both hands on his head as if to stop the top of his skull from blowing off.
A giggle almost escapes. He catches it. Looks over at the main door of the office building he’s in front of. A man and woman are just coming out. He’s standing with his arms by his side. She gives him a hug and stands back, suddenly unsure if the gesture was appropriate. His smile, Leonard can see even from here, is costing him. They speak. The man moves away, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched as if in defence of his own thoughts.
The woman, thinks Leonard, he can catch up with later. And by catch up with, he means make suffer. The man is presently suffering enough for two. And Leonard watches the familiar gait and thinks, It’s still not enough.
Two taxis pull up at the door of the office. One man gets out of the first. Two people get out of the second.
Leonard watches McBain shuffle to his car, and once he’s sure he can’t be seen, he runs to his own. Fires up the engine and follows.
* * *
Kenny is in his favourite café on Byres Road. His latest attempt at washing his cash through a legitimate business. A double espresso and a newspaper fill the table in front of him. He picks up the cup. Presses it against his lower lip, tilts and allows a small amount of the hot, bitter liquid to fill his mouth. Savours the ring tone of cup on saucer as he sets it back down. Who needs meditation? This is the stuff of life itself.
The door opens, he looks up and offers a smile at the woman who walks in. She nods and sits in front of him.
‘Get you something, Alessandra?’ he asks. She’d phoned. Prefers to meet to discuss her concerns about Ray.
She sighs. Sits as if being here with him breaches an unspoken rule. She tosses her hair. Meets his eye for the first time. ‘Sure. Cappuccino.’ And then, like she has just remembered a promise to be pleasant, ‘Please.’
Kenny signals to the waiter. Orders. Looks at Ale. Appreciates the view. Long, dark hair, amber eyes and a heart-shaped face. And notes from her uncompromising expression that this lady has smarts.
Thinks, it’s a shame she’s not for sale.
‘Nice day,’ he says, less from an attempt to be pleasant, more to mess with her. He reads her discomfort and knows she wants to say her piece and move on. Quickly.
Her cappuccino arrives. She nods her thanks to the waiter.
‘Prego,’ he replies, and mentally Kenny tells him to fuck off, you’re from Ruchill, mate, not Rome.
‘Life treating you well?’ Kenny asks.
Ale tosses her hair like she’s brushing him off. ‘I’m worried about Ray.’
‘Me too,’ he admits. ‘What’s on your mind?’
Ale tells him about Ray’s behaviour. Recounts each episode in as much detail as she can remember. Kenny considers telling her about his experiences with Ray and decides not to. Ray needs some kind of privacy and, besides, she has a clear enough picture of the problem.
‘And yesterday … I know it’s a bit of a leap … and it was just a glimpse…’ She looks away over Kenny’s shoulder and through the window at the passing pedestrian traffic. Shakes her head. ‘Och, I’m being silly.’
‘Go on,’ Kenny encourages. If there’s one thing this woman is not, it’s silly. He’s only had limited dealings with her, but he can see there’s nothing fanciful about what goes on between her ears.
‘My car was speeding towards an incident. And it was only for a second. But I saw this guy leaning over the railings down by the Clyde. Looked like he was considering a jump.’
‘Right.’
She smooths hair away from her eyes, pulls a strand behind her ear. ‘It was only when I was past him that I realised it was Ray.’
‘You think he was going to jump?’ Kenny sits back in his chair. His mind pulling away from what Ale was saying.
‘Maybe? I don’t know.’ She’s reluctant to say more. In case saying the words out loud lend them truth.
‘He’s fucked up,’ says Kenny. ‘But, suicidal?’
Ale takes a first sip of her cappuccino. Swallows. Crosses her arms. ‘Sorry. I’m being daft.’ She looks Kenny in the eye, looking for reassurance. ‘Ray wouldn’t go there, would he?’
‘Trust your instincts, DC Rossi. Ray thinks very highly of you. There’s a reason for that.’ Kenny realises that he is reluctant to face this, but having voiced Ray’s view of Ale he begins to accept that what she is saying might have some validity.
‘What stopped him, then?’ he asks, while thinking, fuck me, Ray is in a worse place than even he realised.
‘Dunno.’ Ale looks over his shoulder again. ‘He was back at work. The boy drowning might have been a wake-up call?’
‘Well, that’s good,’ says Kenny. ‘The impulse to do his job could be an important thing in getting him on the straight and narrow.’
&
nbsp; ‘Yeah, but, Harrison has told him to see the doc and keep away from the office.’
‘Shit,’ says Kenny. And wonders if he should bring up the issue of the missing serial killer.
‘Yup,’ says Ale. An expression of doubt. She’s not sure about saying what she’s about to say. ‘And has he told you about Leonard?’ Her phone rang. She looked at the screen. Apologised to Kenny. ‘I need to take this.’
She turned away from him. ‘DC Rossi.’
Listened.
‘You’ve got a match. Great.’ Her expression lifts. She listens some more. An expression of surprise. Then she cuts the call. As she stands up, she fills Kenny in. ‘I know Ray’s been benched, but it might help if he knew what was going on.’
‘I’ll make sure he knows.’
‘Ta,’ she says and reaches for her cup and takes one last sip.
‘Before you go, Ale,’ says Kenny. ‘How much do you know about Leonard?’
‘Ray told me everything.’
‘This is some kind of vendetta for Leonard. Everyone else involved in that killing in the home is dead. Apart from Ray.’
‘Right.’
‘Leonard wants Ray to suffer before he goes after him.’
‘Right?’
‘He enjoys killing people.’
‘Yeah. Where are you going with this, Kenny?’
‘If I was Leonard, I’d be targeting people close to Ray. It would really send him off the edge.’
Ale purses her lips. Makes a dismissive sound.
‘Just…’ He pauses. Now who’s taking a leap? ‘Just look after yourself, eh?’
46
I’m sitting outside Maggie’s house in my car, rehearsing what I’m going to say. Searching for a knot of courage, reminding myself that Maggie is better than me. Deserves better than me.
All I will ever bring her is heartbreak.
I look up at her window. Try to gauge her response to my arrival from any movement I can see from this angle. Which is admittedly a stupid tactic.
What will I say? Hi Maggie. I’ve been missing you like crazy and oh, by the way, I nearly jumped into the Clyde yesterday and you’re dumped. See ya.
Nutshell.
My passenger door opens and Kenny takes a seat.
‘Shit. You gave me a fright, big man,’ I say.
He answers with his don’t-you-just-love-me grin.
‘Thinking about sending smoke signals, or are you actually going to go in?’ He nods his head in the direction of Maggie’s house.
‘Smoke signals are SO nineteenth century. I was going with mind reading.’ I take the car keys out of the lock. ‘How did you find me? Why did you find me?’
‘In a word. Ale.’
I nod. Figures. Wish that girl would stop worrying about me. I look at him. He’s now wearing his serious face.
‘If you were thinking of doing something…’ he considers his next words, ‘…fucking stupid, you’d come to me first, right?’
‘What are you on about?’ I know exactly what he’s on about, but honesty isn’t my strong suit these days.
He doesn’t answer. Just stares at me, love and real concern in his eyes. I can’t handle it and look away. There’s a tightness in my throat I try to cough out. Why do these people care? I’m fucking useless.
I feel his big paw on my shoulder. ‘Anything, Ray. I can handle it.’
‘Well handle this,’ I bristle. He can take his sympathy and shove it where only his proctologist will find it. ‘Fuck off and leave me alone.’ I get out the car and slam the door shut. As I walk towards Maggie’s door I feel his stare burn into my back. Fuck him and his handling anything crap.
I hear him climb out of the car. ‘Ale wanted me to tell you something about the case.’
I turn, all spit and venom. ‘Put it in an email to I-don’t-give-a-fuck dot com.’
Taking a moment before I knock on Maggie’s door, I think, way to go, McBain. Jesus. I have no patience these days. I study my shoes. Kenny didn’t deserve that. I take a deep breath and look up. Try to find the words for an apology, but he’s already turned away.
Brought to you by today’s theme tune, folks: Burning Bridges.
I knock. The door opens almost immediately. Maggie steps back to allow me entrance. Her arms are crossed and her eyes full of questions I don’t want to answer. Colour blooms in her throat, and she swallows as if there was a piece of dry bread stuck there.
She takes a step towards me.
The words I want to use are caged behind my teeth. My jaw on lockdown.
‘Ray,’ she says, and it’s a soft note of warmth. She pulls me into a hug. I feel her mouth move against my ear. ‘Whatever is going on, I don’t care. You need this.’ From the moment I met her, she always knew more about me than I did myself. It was something otherworldly I refused to acknowledge or investigate.
We stand like that for a long moment. I accept the gift of her human contact for as long as I can. Torn between needing more and feeling I’m not worthy, I pull away. Study the carpet. Cough.
‘Can’t do this,’ I say.
She crosses her arms. ‘I felt it yesterday.’ She pauses as if considering the wisdom of what she is about to say. ‘You reached a crisis.’ Her smile is weak but coloured with gratitude. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t…’
‘Didn’t what?’ I challenge.
‘Don’t know,’ she answers. ‘I just got this horrible feeling that you were about to do something…’ She searches for the right word. ‘Final.’
‘Yeah. Well, you’re way off base, cos everything is fucking peachy.’ And I don’t know if I could feel any more loathsome than I do right now. Just don’t speak, Ray. Whatever comes out your mouth now will be wrong.
‘Sorry, if I’ve…’
‘No, I should be one who’s sorry. I can’t seem to speak today without getting angry.’ Even saying it aloud and I feel the wrong kind of energy flare in my chest. I meet her eyes, trying to send a silent message of apology. ‘I should go,’ I say and move to the door.
‘Please, Ray,’ Maggie says. ‘You’ve just arrived.’ She reaches out and holds my hand. I pull away from her touch.
I can see the hurt in her face and a moment of acceptance. The corners of her mouth twist downward as she struggles for control.
‘Got to go,’ I say, pull open the door and leave. Before I really make you hate me, I leave unsaid.
* * *
Kenny is leaning against my car. Arms crossed.
‘I thought you’d fucked off,’ I say.
‘You dumped her, didn’t you?’ he asks, reading my expression.
‘Go away, Kenny. I’m not in the mood.’
‘That girl is the best thing that ever happened to you, you fucking idiot.’
‘Yeah, and I’m taking relationship advice from you?’
‘It’s not advice. It’s a statement of fact.’
I want to run at him and pummel his face until it’s mush. My fists and my face clamp.
‘Go on,’ Kenny says. ‘I’ll take one punch if it makes you feel better. But fair warning, you won’t get to two. Cos then I’ll kick your arse.’
It would feel good to wipe that superior look off his expression. But I know that if my fist meets his face, my fist will come off worst.
‘Just leave me alone, Kenny,’ I say as I reach the car. I press the remote to unlock it and climb in. He gets in the passenger side.
‘What?’ I ask.
‘Just think of me as your friendly neighbourhood suicide watch kinda guy.’
‘I wasn’t…’
‘Do us both a favour, Ray, and cut the crap.’ His eyes are steel. Shame rubs at me. ‘Take some pills. Get professional help. There’s too many people who count on you.’
‘Finished your lecture?
Now would you kindly fuck off?’
‘I’m going nowhere, McBain. Not letting you out of my sight for a second. So, chew on that. And while that’s exercising your gums, here’s the message from Ale.’
I study his expression, see the resolve there and dampen down the trace of relief that worms its way through my veins. I feel reassured by his presence, but I’d rather scrape the skin off my scrotum than admit that.
‘OK. What?’
‘The DNA results came in on the Aileen Banks’ case.’
‘Aye?’ My interest is sparked despite my best attempt to disassociate myself from life.
‘There’s a match on the semen with the…’ he searches for a name, ‘…the Davis guy?’
‘I fucking knew it. Butter wouldn’t melt the little prick.’
‘Don’t know what any of this means,’ Kenny says with a puzzled expression. ‘And they found something else. Some skin under the girl’s fingernails.’
‘Yeah?’
‘So she’s given someone a good clawing.’
‘Someone?’ I’m struggling to compute what Kenny’s saying. If the semen sample was a match with the Davis DNA…
Kenny interrupts my thought. ‘The skin sample didn’t match with Davis, and there’s no other match on the system.’
47
Leonard can feel the grief coming through his laptop screen. He soaks it up. Feels it light up every cell in his body. In the middle of the night, just a few hours after Matt Davis drowned, his brother was seeking comfort and understanding. From him. Not his mother or any of his friends. Him.
A message alert. And then.
‘What the hell was he doing? Why were those guys chasing him? I can’t believe my brother is actually…’
The words tailed off.
Then.
‘Are you there? Can we talk? I REALLY need to talk to someone who understands.’
‘I’m here for you, Simon,’ Leonard typed and felt the electric charge of triumph.
‘I can’t type fast enough,’ Simon writes. ‘Can we meet up, please?’
‘Of course. When?’
There’s a delay of a few moments before Simon replies.
Bad Samaritan Page 23
