‘At this stage, David, it’s only right and proper that I advise you that you are going to be asked questions into and about the death of Calum Bradley. Before I do, I must caution you that you are not obliged to say anything in response to these questions, and anything you do say will be noted, visually and audibly recorded and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’ Alyson had to say this, the evidence could easily be regarded as inadmissible if she didn’t, but she understood how they might frighten a person into changing their mind about a confession.
‘I do understand, yes. I just want to tell my side of it.’
‘OK, David. In your own time,’ Alyson said, sitting back in her chair and inviting David to proceed. In normal circumstances she would have offered a hot drink, perhaps something to eat, but David here wanted to talk and she was going to let him.
David stayed quiet for a minute, perhaps choosing his words. Then, for the first time, he looked directly at her. ‘Uh, OK. Well, I wanted to come here today to hand myself in. See, the boy, Calum, I killed him,’ he said. His hands rubbed at his chin, then mouth.
Alyson was about to ask a question but Duncan tapped a knuckle on her knee. Say nothing, it meant.
Another minute passed. David’s hands went from his mouth to his eyes. He began sobbing. Alyson looked at Duncan, his face told her again to let this happen. She searched her pockets and found a packet of hankies. She pushed them across the table.
‘Thanks,’ David snorted. He blew his nose and wiped his eyes with the back of a hand. ‘I’d been thinking about it for a while, you know? Like a … I dunno, like an addiction or something. Most of the time it’s easy to push it away, distract myself with work or whatever. But that night, I cracked.’ A fresh wave of tears came. This time he didn’t seem so keen to pick up the story.
‘What kind of work is it you do, David?’ Alyson asked.
‘Warehouse work. I do shifts. Forklift mostly.’ He pulled another hanky from the packet.
‘You like it?’
‘Not really,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Pays the bills and usually keeps me out of mischief.’
‘But not the evening we’re talking about?’
‘My work’s fault.’
Alyson let some time pass, but he didn’t seem to want to elaborate on this point. ‘It’s your work’s fault that you killed Calum Bradley?’
‘Aye. Well, no, I mean not really. Look, I live on my own. I don’t get paid a lot, but they make you take annual leave. My boss was telling me I had to take it. I said to him, just pay me the hours and he said can’t do it. Union. So, I’m at home for three weeks and these urges come back and … I mean three weeks. I couldn’t stop it.’
‘Tell us about that evening. Why Calum?’
David shrugged and looked up with raw eyes. ‘Just bad luck. I had been driving around for … hours. Trying to make myself go home. Either that or trying to find the courage to actually do it. Who knows? I remember, I parked up on this street. Musta been around teatime. I had the wheel in my hands and it was like I was speaking to it, saying go home, go home, go home and then I look up and there’s this kid in a blue jumper. He’s sat on a kerb trying to fix his bike. The second I notice he’s there, he looks up at me. He looks at me and he … he smiles.’
It was nearly three minutes before he composed himself again, but eventually the tears stopped.
‘What were you driving, David?’
‘My van? It’s a wee Vauxhall Combo. I use it to keep my tools in. I do odd bits, small carpentry jobs and repairs when I’m not at the warehouse.’
Alyson’s heart leapt in her chest. Her fingers curled into her palm in excitement.
‘What colour is your van, David?’ she said.
‘Red. Dark red, like maroon.’
The excitement waned a little. ‘What street was this where you came across Calum?’
‘Honestly, I don’t know. I live in Paisley, but I’d been driving around for hours, like I said. I had come into this wee town, Rickerburn. I’ve never even been there before. Between Edinburgh and Glasgow. I don’t know the place, but there I was.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘I don’t even want to say it out loud.’ His face was screwing up again. Tears forming fresh pools.
‘That’s why you came here today, David,’ Alyson said softly and evenly. ‘You need this. To get it out. Now’s your chance. Just take your time,’ Alyson pushed one of the cups in front of him.
He took a deep breath and drained the whole thing. ‘Like I said, he was sitting there. This wee boy and I told myself – just drive away. But then my door was open, almost like someone else had done it, but I’m stepping out and now I’m thinking, right, if he starts to walk away, just get back in the van and go. But he didn’t move. He was on the kerb by his bike and there’s not a soul in sight and now I’m telling myself, stop walking, but I don’t and before I know it, I’m down on my haunches and the boy is still smiling. “Hiya,” I said. You know what he says?’
Alyson could feel a tension through her neck and down through her spine. She said nothing.
‘He says, “The chain’s come off my bike. Can you help me fix it?” There’s no fear in him and so it was like a sign. Then …’
‘Go on, David. It’s OK,’ said Duncan.
‘I said I’d make a deal with him. I’d help him with his bike, if he could show me how to walk up into the bing. You know these shale bings out there in Rickerburn. Like three big man-made hills of red dirt. He says: “It’s easy, there’s a path.” I tell him I’ll fix his chain if he will take me over. At this point I’m sure he’ll get scared and that will be the end of it, but he agreed. I … fixed his chain and then … I took that boy.’
‘Where did you take him?’ said Duncan.
‘I just looked for somewhere quiet, you know? We walked up to this path and I urged him to go a little further and then a little further.’
‘What happened in the bings, David?’
‘I … I can’t. I don’t want to even …’
Alyson wanted to reach across the table and hit this miserable little man, crying into his hands. She wanted to hit him until the information poured out of him in red torrents. Instead, she gripped the hem of her skirt under the table until she felt her knuckles crack.
‘Did you kill Calum Bradley, David?’ said Duncan.
‘For the purpose of the recording, the suspect David Ellis is nodding,’ added Alyson.
‘Thank you, David. I know how difficult this must be. But I need you to tell me some more about how that happened. Can you do that?’
‘For the purpose of the recording, the suspect David Ellis is nodding,’ she said again.
‘What do you need?’ said David. The eye contact was gone. He was picking at a finger that looked red and angry from self-abuse.
‘How did you do it?’ said Alyson. The question came easily from her mouth but in the back of her mind she wondered at the absurdity of it. Not why did you do it, the question any normal, compassionate person might ask; the question that would be paramount above all others, but how. This question, in the eyes of an investigation was far more important.
‘I, uh … I strangled him.’
Now she could ask the question. ‘Why did you strangle Calum Bradley, David?’
‘I didn’t mean to. It’s not what I had planned, I—’
‘What did you plan to do?’ said Duncan.
‘I … I didn’t have a plan. It just happened. I had him by the hand and we were on this small track. By then he was getting upset. I wanted to take him further but he was clearly scared. I … I took out my, you know, penis and then he just started screaming. I panicked. I pulled up my trousers and put my hand over his mouth but he wouldn’t stop. I didn’t even know my hands had slipped to his neck … not until it was too late. Then he was quiet and … he was just … gone.’
Alyson and Duncan sat in silence. They waited for the most important part. Now Alyson had both hands on her skirt,
pulling, twisting. Her face, however, was like the surface of a pond. A full minute passed. Now David was looking at them. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Come on, Alyson thought and fought against her lips forming the words.
Duncan was the next to talk. ‘What did you do next?’
‘I got out of there. What do you think? I left him on the path and I ran back to the van. I was sure I’d come across someone and that I’d be seen. I got in the van, turned and I drove. I didn’t stop until I was home. Over the next few days, I was sure the police were going to come to my door. I sat and stared at it. I was due to go back to work, but I called in sick and I just waited. After about a month had passed and nobody came I—’
‘Go back a step, David. You’ve strangled Calum Bradley. The boy is still in your hands. What did you do then?’ said Alyson.
David looked at them blankly.
Fuck, fucking bastard, she thought.
‘I uh, I dunno. I can’t remember if I laid him down or if I dropped him, but I let him go and I—’
‘Did you do anything with the body, David?’ said Duncan.
‘Do? Like what?’
‘You tell us. Did you attempt to hide it? Did you do anything sexually? Did you mark the body?’
‘No. I just got the hell out of there.’
He looked disgusted at the question and that was all they needed. The look on Duncan’s face as he stood and made for the door surely mirrored her own as Alyson took her notebook from her pocket and began writing.
‘What? What’s going on? What did I say?’
The door closed behind Duncan.
It’s not what you said. It’s what you couldn’t say, you little fucker, Alyson thought. And if their conversation were not being recorded, she would have. Instead, she began reading from her notebook.
‘David Ellis. I am about to prefer a charge against you, but before I do so I must caution you that you are not obliged to say anything in response to the charge and that anything you do say will be noted, visually and audibly recorded and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’
‘Where’s the other guy gone? What’s going on?’
‘The charge against you is that on the twenty-seventh of July, at Govan Police Station you did falsely confess to the murder of Calum Bradley, compelling officers to investigate said confession and thereby waste the time of the police—’
‘What? No, wait—’
‘That is contrary to the—’
‘I did. I killed that boy. You need to lock me up. Please, just listen.’
‘… Criminal Law Act 1967. Do you understand the charge?’
‘Please …’
‘Do you understand the charge that has been read to you, Mr Ellis?’
‘Look. I do have these thoughts. They’re evil. Please. You need to lock me up.’
‘Interview terminated at fifteen-twelve hours.’ Alyson ejected the tapes and removed them from the machine. She calmly signed her name on the labels and pushed hers and Duncan’s chairs back into place. Only then did she address David again.
‘You’ll be getting locked up all right. But only long enough to take prints and DNA. After that, if I ever see you again …’ Breathe, she told herself. The camera over her shoulder was still recording. Just breathe.
This time they were urged to sit in DCI Templeton’s office, though she didn’t seem like she intended to sit herself.
‘Definitely not our man? You’re sure?’ she said. She stood in the corner of her room at a bookshelf. The shelves were white and clinical but they were home to an assortment of colourful pictures and nick-nacks. The pictures were of children, two blonde kids with DCI Templeton’s prominent nose.
‘I’m certain, ma’am. I’m sorry. We’ve taken swabs and prints, of course, but it’s not our fella. Everything he knew he learned from the papers. He had nothing beyond that,’ said Duncan.
‘By that you mean the wounds to the eyes?’
‘Yes, ma’am. That and the fact that he claims the murder happened at the locus.’ This being another thing withheld from the press, that the boy had been dumped where he was found, but forensic examination of the crime scene confirmed he had not been killed there.
‘Bastard. I really thought this was it. What possesses these fucking people?’
It had been agreed on the drive back that Duncan would field all questions, that the boss was bound to be furious, but this question was asked at Alyson.
‘I, uh … Who knows, ma’am? He admitted to some pretty ugly thoughts and maybe he wanted himself put away before he does actually act on them. But I suspect it’s more about the attention. Some narcissistic urge you’d have to ask a psychologist about.’
‘You charged him with fucking about, I take it?’ There was something comical about DCI Templeton’s propensity for swearing. Her plummy accent seemed somehow absurdly contradictory.
‘Of course, ma’am.’
‘So, Duncan. Where does this leave us?’
‘It, uh, leaves us exactly where we were at the morning meeting, ma’am. We’re no further forward, I’m afraid.’
Now she was sitting. She looked out through the window as she spoke. ‘I don’t need to tell you that the detective super is up my arse like a barbed-wire enema on this, Duncan. We need something soon. You hear me?’ she turned to face them. Her stare reminded Alyson of that old film. The one with Medusa and the Greek soldiers turned to stone.
‘We’re doing everything, ma’am. I assure you.’
‘Maybe time to start thinking out of the box, Duncan. What about you? What’s with this geriatric fuckwit on the phone?’
Alyson looked at Duncan. Though she couldn’t say why, he wasn’t going to help her. ‘It’s probably a dead end, ma’am.’
‘Probably? I didn’t send you out there to gauge its probability, I sent you there to follow up or write off, which is it?’
‘Uh … Write off. Most likely.’
The DCI laid her hands on the desk and leaned towards Alyson. She was not happy. ‘What is the fucking situation?’
‘It’s in hand, ma’am. We, eh, I, identified the person making the call. An old man. CCTV confirms he didn’t leave the building the date of the murder. It’s just that he’s in and out of lucidity. I wanted to get a statement from him, just to tie a bow on it, but I’ll have to wait until he can provide one. I have a colleague keeping an eye on—’
‘Colleague? No, fuck that. I want you on this until it’s done. I asked you to do this, so bloody well get it done.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And the next time you take it upon yourself to delegate a task I have personally assigned to you, you can go ahead and reassign yourself back to whatever tin-pot task force you came from.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Her attention turned back to Duncan, thank God. ‘Where are we with the van?’
‘Again, no further forward. Our timewaster today mentioned he had a van, and we will get it checked,’ he added urgently. ‘But it’s not the right colour and it’s as much a red herring as the rest of his bullshit.’
Alyson was aware that a white van had been seen by a witness in the vicinity of the locus on the night in question, this being the reason she’d become excited during the interview, but she wasn’t sure what the strategy was for this line of enquiry.
‘How many white vans matching the description came back on the PNC check?’
‘Thousands, ma’am. It’s impossible with the information we have. The witness has been interviewed twice. Without even a partial reg it’s a non-starter. We’ve asked traffic and patrol to be a wee bit … liberal with stop-searches in the area, but I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one. That leaves our forensics, and you know better than I do where we’re at with that.’
‘Yes, fucking nowhere. All right. We need to widen the net on perverts.’
‘Ma’am?’ said Duncan.
‘By now we’ve interviewed every sex offender we have registered. I th
ink we need to start looking at anyone who’s been identified as a suspect at any time within, say … fifty miles of the locus.’
‘Ma’am, I’m not sure that’s entirely—’
‘Legal? Well, interviews will be held on a voluntary basis, at least to begin with. But Duncan, don’t be soft with this. Make it clear if they don’t speak to us and provide details of their whereabouts then it doesn’t look good for them. Understood?’
‘Ma’am.’
The two shuffled from the room like chastised school children.
Alyson waited until they were well clear before she breathed, ‘Desperate.’
‘Desperate doesn’t come fucking close,’ Duncan breathed back.
CHAPTER SIX
Awake
I was pulled out of a dream so fast that I woke with the sound of my own yelling in my ears.
I jolted upright as Dad had come crashing into my room. I didn’t catch the first thing he said as I was still in some in-between state.
‘What’s going on?’ I said.
‘Your phone. It’s been going off. You left it in the kitchen. Did you no hear me calling?’
‘What?’
‘It might be your work. I don’t know if it’s important. Here.’
He tossed the phone onto the bed. I lifted it with one hand and rubbed at my eyes with the other. ‘Thanks.’
‘Sorry to have given you a fright. I’ll put the kettle on,’ he said and left.
I dragged another pillow behind my head and tried to focus on the screen. It told me it was a little after seven. What’s he doing up so early? There were three missed calls, all within the last ten minutes. I tapped the screen to return the call.
‘Hi, Vicky?’
‘Hi Don. I’m sorry to phone you so early, but you said to call if Martin came back to himself.’
‘Yeah, it’s no problem. There’s been some improvement then?’
‘I’ll say. He’s full of stories this morning. If you wanted to speak to him, now would be your chance.’
‘Thanks for letting me know. I’ll just get myself together and come over.’
‘I wouldn’t leave it too long if I were you. We never know how long he’ll be around.’
Into the Dark Page 5
