‘Sociopaths are cold and clinical.’ He frowned. ‘What do you mean, you checked the prints?’
‘I took a couple of things from the altar and ran them through a lab. McBride’s brother took me to the farm.’
‘You know he topped himself?’
‘You think he committed suicide? There was no note.’
‘Suicides don’t always leave notes,’ said Simpson. He stiffened. ‘How do you know there was no note?’
‘You don’t want to know,’ said Nightingale.
The detective leaned forward. ‘Actually I do,’ he said.
‘Let’s just leave it that I know,’ said Nightingale. ‘Are you on the case?’
‘There is no case. It’s a suicide.’
‘There’ll be a post mortem?’
‘I was there when they cut the body down,’ said Simpson. ‘There’s no confusion about cause of death.’
‘He wasn’t suicidal when I met him,’ said Nightingale. ‘Seemed happy enough, other than the fact that his brother had turned into a spree killer. Loved his family, and if he did have any money problems the death of his brother would have taken care of them. Plus he was driven to find out why his brother did what he did. None of that points to a man who would take his own life.’
‘Maybe insanity runs in the family.’
Nightingale smiled thinly. ‘Now that’s a glib statement if ever I heard one. I don’t think Danny McBride was mentally ill and I’ve seen nothing to suggest that his brother was either.’
‘Other than his killing spree.’ Their lagers arrived. The waiter poured the contents into two glasses.
‘You might want to take a closer look at McBride’s hanging,’ said Nightingale, after the waiter had gone. ‘But if Bernard Connolly’s on the case I’m guessing you won’t get much from the post mortem.’
Simpson frowned. ‘How do you know Connolly?’
‘He’s the coroner’s officer I spoke to. Not very helpful, I have to say.’
Simpson shook his head in amazement. ‘You haven’t been here long but you’ve certainly put yourself about,’ he said.
‘I wanted to ask about the post mortems of the kids who died at the school but he pretty much told me to mind my own beeswax.’
‘You can understand why,’ said Simpson. ‘It’s not like you’re in the job. But why were you asking questions about the post mortems?’
‘I wanted to know if there were signs of sexual abuse.’
Simpson’s eyebrows shot skyward. ‘What? Where the hell did that come from?’
‘The kids that he shot were all from single-parent families.’
‘So? Half of all marriages end in divorce these days.’
‘I know that, but all the kids that were shot were missing a parent. Not half. Not three-quarters. All.’
‘And you think McBride shot them because of that?’
‘I don’t think the killings were random. He moved from classroom to classroom. He only shot the one teacher. Simon Etchells, the deputy headmaster. He could have shot other teachers but he didn’t. He could have shot at the cops, but he didn’t. It looks to me that it was all planned and his targets were pre-selected.’
‘And having decided to shoot specific children, he set out to make it look as if he was doing it because he was some sort of devil-worshipper?’
‘He was using that as a distraction, yes. And he must have had help because he didn’t have internet access at his home, so someone else must have loaded the Satanic stuff onto his computer.’
‘This is making my head hurt, Nightingale. Just exactly what do you think is going on?’
‘At the moment I’m not sure. That’s why I’m here. I’m not sure what I’ve got into, but I was attacked last night.’
‘Attacked?’
‘Two guys came at me in my flat. One of them was carrying a length of rope.’
‘Rope?’
‘I think they were planning on hanging me.’
‘What happened?’
‘I ran like the wind, that’s what happened.’
‘And you think there’s a connection with the waves you’ve been making up here?’
‘I think the rope is the clue.’ He fumbled in his raincoat pocket and pulled out a handful of printouts of pictures he’d taken of the men leaving his building. He gave them to Simpson and the policeman studied them. He scratched his nose. ‘They’re not very clear.’
‘Yeah, well I’m not a professional photographer and they were moving fast.’ The policeman held up two photographs, the first ones Nightingale had taken as the two men came out of the bedroom. ‘Ski masks?’
‘Yeah.’
‘They were coming at you with a knife and you took their picture?’
‘It was dark. I figured the flash would blind them, give me enough time to get out. It worked, as it happens.’
‘And you think they were from Berwick?’
He tried to hand the pictures back to Nightingale but Nightingale shook his head. ‘Keep them,’ he said. ‘You might recognise someone down the line. I don’t know if they’re from here or not. They might be from London but someone here could have paid them.’
‘To what? To kill you? That’s one hell of a stretch, isn’t it?’
‘They were in my flat. They waited for me to come back. So it wasn’t about robbery.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Not that I had much to steal.’
‘So why do you think they turned over your flat?’
‘Looking for the things I took from the altar, maybe. Or covering up for what they planned to do.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They brought some rope with them. I figure I was going to join the list of suicides.’ Nightingale shrugged. ‘I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid in my old age. But just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me.’
Two waiters arrived with their food and they spread it out across the table. Chicken tikka masala, prawn dansak, lamb jalfrezi, aloo gobi and saag bhaji. Simpson folded the printouts and slipped them into his jacket pocket. Nightingale helped himself to rice and waited until the waiters had gone before continuing.
‘I need your help, Harry. The two cops I’ve spoken to up here haven’t been helpful.’
‘Who else did you speak to?’
‘The guy who has McBride’s computer. Colin Stevenson.’
Simpson nodded. ‘Yeah, I know him.’
‘Someone leaked the Satanic website thing to the press and I think it might have been him.’
‘You want to be careful throwing around allegations like that.’
‘I’m not throwing allegations around, I’m just mentioning it to you. Like I said, McBride didn’t have an internet connection at his house, which means that he couldn’t have visited those websites. Stevenson says that he did and the press got hold of the fact in double quick time. I’m happy to be proved wrong, but it looks to me like Stevenson might have another agenda.’
‘Like what?’
Nightingale shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Seems to me there’s a lot you don’t know.’ Simpson tore off a chunk of naan bread and dipped it into the dansak.
‘That’s why I wanted to talk to you,’ said Nightingale. ‘Stevenson and Connolly might be more forthcoming with you.’
‘You want me to spy for you? That’s not going to happen.’
‘You’re on the case, right? Don’t you want to know what really happened?’
‘We know what happened. James McBride took his shotgun and killed eight children and a teacher, then he took his own life.’
‘But what if he was being used? What if there was someone behind him?’
‘Behind him? What do you mean?’
‘Someone put the Satanic stuff on his computer. I think they did that to hide the real reason for the killings. I’d have thought that you might want to know what that reason was.’
‘Why are you so interested? Your client is dead, right?’
‘He paid
in advance,’ said Nightingale. ‘But this isn’t about money. It’s about getting at the truth.’
Simpson sipped his lager slowly as he thought about what Nightingale had said. ‘What specifically do you want from me?’ he said, putting down his glass.
‘I’d like to know if there was anything off about Etchells. The teacher that was killed.’
‘Off in what way?’
‘McBride shot him point blank in the playground. He didn’t have to. If he’d made any sort of threatening gesture with the shotgun, Etchells would have folded. All McBride had to do was point the gun at him. He didn’t need to pull the trigger. And when he went to the classrooms, he didn’t shoot the teachers. He chose to kill Etchells and I want to know why.’
Simpson pulled a face. ‘I haven’t heard anything.’
‘No, but you probably weren’t looking. He was a victim. Same as the pupils. You don’t look at victims in the same way as you look at the perpetrator.’
‘Okay, I can do that.’
‘And I’d really like to know why Colin Stevenson has been so uncooperative.’
Simpson’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you suggesting he’s bad? Because there’s no way I’m getting dragged into a Professional Standards investigation.’
‘Someone put that Satanic stuff on McBride’s hard drive and leaked it to the press. Whoever it was must have done it for a reason.’
‘And you think it was Stevenson?’
‘He’s the only name I’ve got.’
Simpson put down his fork. ‘If I get caught sniffing around a fellow cop I could blow my career.’
‘What sort of cop is he?’
‘Close to retirement. He’ll be gone in a couple of years. He’s like a lot of old school detectives, he’s seen the job change and it’s not changed for the better. You know what it’s like, right? We get shafted by the politicians, our pay and pensions are attacked, the CPS and the courts let us down every day of the week and the public hates us.’ He shrugged. ‘Welcome to the new millennium.’
‘I know it isn’t easy being a copper. It never has been. But eight kids died and I want to know why.’
Simpson nodded slowly. ‘Okay. I’ll put out a few feelers. But I’m not promising anything.’
‘That’s cool.’
‘And we’re splitting this bill, fifty-fifty.’
‘Which is also cool,’ said Nightingale. ‘Two more Kingfishers?’
53
Sandra Harper ruffled her daughter’s hair. ‘What do you want to eat, honey?’ Bella was sitting in front of the television wearing her favourite Barbie pyjamas. The doctors had discharged her first thing in the morning and as soon as they’d got home she had retreated to the sofa. Bella shrugged and kept her eyes on the television. ‘I’m okay.’
‘Are you sure? Pizza Hut? KFC? Burger King? Your dad can drive and get you whatever you want.’
‘I’m not hungry, Mum.’
‘Tomorrow’s Saturday, do you want to go to the pictures? It’s been ages since we saw a film together. We could go with Grandma and Granddad. Make it a family day out?’
Bella shrugged but didn’t say anything.
Sandra sat down next to her daughter. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Don’t worry. I’m fine.’ She continued to stare at the television.
‘What are you watching?’
‘A documentary on the Holocaust.’
‘The Holocaust? Why on earth are you watching that?’
‘It’s interesting.’
‘I’m not sure you should be watching that.’
‘Why not?’
Sandra picked up the remote and flicked through the channels until she found a cartoon show. ‘That’s better.’
‘I hate cartoons,’ said Bella.
‘You love cartoons.’ She brushed Bella’s hair away from her eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
Bella sighed. ‘Really, I’m fine.’
‘The doctors said you might be in shock for a while.’
‘I’m not in shock.’
‘You don’t have to go to school next week if you don’t want to.’
‘No, I’ll go. Really, I’m fine.’
Sandra smelled something unpleasant and she frowned. ‘Did you clean your teeth this morning?’
‘Sure.’
Sandra leant forward to smell her daughter’s breath but Bella turned her head away. ‘Mum, please …’
‘Do you feel okay? Is your stomach bad?’
‘My stomach’s fine.’
‘So why aren’t you hungry?’
‘I’m just not,’ said Bella.
Again Sandra caught the smell of something bitter and acrid yet also sickly sweet. Like very old cheese. But before she could say anything, the doorbell rang. She frowned. ‘Now who’s that at this time of night?’ She went over to the window and pulled back the curtain. ‘Bloody Jehovah’s Witnesses.’
Will appeared at the sitting room door. ‘Who is it?’
‘The God squad,’ she said. ‘Alisha said they were around yesterday.’
The doorbell rang again. ‘I’ll get rid of them,’ said Will.
Bella turned to look at her father. ‘What are Jehovah’s Witnesses?’ she asked.
‘Nutters,’ said Will. ‘They want to come in and talk about God.’
‘Can I talk to them?’
Will frowned. ‘What? Why?’
‘I’d like to talk to someone about Jesus.’
‘Honey, like Daddy says, they’re nutters. They’re a cult. If you want to talk to someone about Jesus we can go to a church, but these people are just a nuisance and they won’t take no for an answer.’
‘Please, Daddy. I want to.’
Will looked over at Sandra and she shrugged. ‘If that’s what she wants …’
‘Please, Daddy.’
‘Okay, but once we let them in we’ll never be able to get rid of them.’
Will went off to open the front door. A few seconds later he returned with a young man in a dark raincoat and a blonde woman on her thirties with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Both were carrying black briefcases.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Will said to his wife. ‘I’ve got to do some work on the car.’ He disappeared down the hallway before Sandra could say anything.
The woman held out her hand. ‘I’m Tina,’ she said. ‘Your husband said you’d be happy to talk to us. Have you heard the word of God?’
Sandra shook the woman’s hand. ‘We go to church, yes,’ she said. ‘But it was my daughter who wanted to talk to you.’
Bella smiled up at the two Jehovah’s Witnesses. ‘I’m Bella,’ she said.
‘Hello, Bella.’ She introduced her colleague. ‘This is David.’
David was in his thirties, slightly tubby with thick-lensed spectacles. He shook hands with Sandra and flashed Bella a beaming smile.
‘Look, I have to say that I’m a little uncomfortable about this,’ said Sandra. ‘As I said, we go to church. I don’t want you to start putting ideas into my daughter’s head.’
‘I just want to talk to them, Mummy. It’ll be fine.’ She patted the sofa next to her. ‘They can sit here.’
The two Jehovah’s Witnesses took off their coats and looked expectantly at Sandra. She took the coats from them and they sat down on the sofa, either side of Bella. ‘Why don’t you get them some tea, Mummy?’ asked Bella.
‘Oh, I don’t think they’ll be here that long, honey,’ said Sandra.
‘Actually a cup of tea would be lovely,’ said Tina, and David nodded.
Sandra sighed. ‘Right then, tea it is,’ she said. She walked out of the room, carrying the coats. Bella was looking at her, so Sandra mouthed ‘Ten minutes’ and flashed her a warning look.
‘So you are interested in God and how he can be a part of your life?’ asked Tina.
Bella nodded. ‘Of course. God loves us and we are his children.’
‘That’s right,’ said David. ‘But what is important is that we dem
onstrate our love for God. We must show that we are worthy of his love.’ He opened his briefcase and took out a handful of leaflets. He sorted through them and handed two to her. ‘These are especially for children,’ he said. ‘They will help you to understand what you must do to ensure your place in Heaven.’
Bella smiled. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’ll be going to Heaven.’
‘Of course you will, if you do what God wants,’ said Tina. ‘Now, have you ever heard of a man called Charles Taze Russell?’
‘He founded the Jehovah’s Witnesses,’ said Bella. ‘He wrote the books Studies in Scriptures, which is what your theology is based on.’ She smiled sweetly.
Tina and David exchanged surprised looks. ‘Has someone from our Church talked to you already?’
Bella shook her head. ‘No, you’re the first,’ she said. ‘But there is something I don’t understand. You don’t believe in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, do you?’
‘God is a single deity, there is only the one God,’ said Tina.
‘Right, but you think that the Archangel Michael is Jesus, don’t you?’
‘It’s not as simple as that,’ said David. ‘God created Michael and through him God created the universe, the earth, and all mankind.’
‘And that happened 42,000 years ago, you think.’
David and Tina looked at each other. ‘Bella, who have you been talking to?’ said Tina. ‘Have your parents put you up to this? Is this some sort of joke?’
‘Because really it’s not funny,’ said David. ‘God is not a laughing matter.’
‘I just worry about the dinosaurs, that’s all,’ said Bella. ‘They were around millions of years ago so I don’t see how that fits in with your 42,000-year theory.’ She clapped her hands. ‘But that’s not what really worries me. It’s the whole Archangel Michael thing.’
Tina frowned at the little girl. ‘What do you mean?’
Bella sighed. ‘You believe that Michael became Jesus. And that God sent him down to be the saviour.’
‘That’s right,’ said Tina. ‘He was without sin and he obeyed all of God’s laws. He took on all the sins of mankind and then he died and was born again in spirit.’
‘And you believe that one day Jesus will return to earth to destroy Satan and establish God’s kingdom on earth?’
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