Into the Dark

by Stuart Johnstone

  I laughed and pointed her to a safe spot in an armchair. I myself took the opposite end of the couch from the disturbed tryst, now that she’d put that in my head.

  ‘Ugh, I feel better. This is exactly what I’ve needed,’ she said, slinging her legs up over the arm of the chair. She cradled her glass to her chest.

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ I said. I was waiting for an opportunity to push the conversation into her investigation, but with it being such sensitive information I didn’t want to risk asking and be met with an awkward ‘I really can’t talk about it.’ In the end it took just one more glass of red before she opened up without prompting.

  ‘You remember the PM we attended when we got to the shift?’ she asked.

  ‘Of course. I still think about it from time to time.’ I don’t know if it was some exercise in desensitisation or just that management felt it was worthy experience to gain insight into police procedure, but it was customary to take the brand-new, out-of-the-wrapper recruits, fresh from their Tulliallan torture to a post-mortem within the first few weeks of your arriving to division. For Alyson and me, it just so happened to be on our very first day.

  ‘You remember that I had to step out when the mortician removed the brain? And then again when he pushed all the organs into a bag under the ribcage?’

  I gave a small laugh as I recalled her face that day, as devoid of colour as the residents of the morgue. The worst part for me was the smell created by the circular saw as the skull cap was removed. I’d swayed on my feet a little and had saliva flooding my mouth preparing for vomit. I had managed to stay upright and to keep my breakfast, but only just.

  She sipped from her glass, then went on. ‘Since joining CID, I’ve been to another four, each one easier than the last. Until a few days ago, if you’d asked me if I could still be bothered by a dead body, or a PM, I’d have confidently said no way. But, fuck, Don, you should have seen the state of that priest.’ Again, I resisted the temptation to ask any questions and just let her tell me, whatever it was she wanted to get off her chest. After a moment of reflection, she continued. ‘I was holding the camera while the pathologist and mortician worked the body. The PF lasted all of three or four minutes, saying she’d read the report instead. Even my boss, and she’s a tough lady, was gripping the table. It was like something from a sci-fi movie. He had the body of a frail old man, nothing shocking there, but his head?’

  This time she drained her glass and I couldn’t resist the question. ‘The eyes again?’

  She brought her legs back to the floor and leaned forward shaking her head while she swallowed the last mouthful. ‘No, his eyes were still there. It was the sides of his head. Do you know … no, of course you don’t know. Well, the weapon they found in the church, the knife, the tip was broken off. I watched the pathologist pull that piece of metal out of a hole in his skull. Do you have any idea the force needed to snap the blade of a knife like that? In the end they could only approximate the number of stab wounds. The skull had caved in on one side due to so many punctures, the guy’s brain quite clear though the hole. It would have been one thing to stand at the back of the room like the rest, but I had to lean in to get a good shot of everything.’

  ‘That’s awful, Aly. I’m sorry. Here, let me top you up.’ I leaned forward with the bottle and she held out her glass.

  ‘All of this goes no further you understand?’ she said.

  ‘Of course, goes without saying. Still no link between the two victims?’

  ‘No, not yet. My guess is there isn’t one. Just two poor bastards in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kate Templeton, my boss, doesn’t like that idea. I think it scares her. How do you stop someone who strikes indiscriminately? And how do you track someone down when there’s no motive to hang an investigation on?’

  ‘I see your point.’

  ‘Unless something happens soon, I think we’re looking at a situation where this guy will only be caught if he gets picked up for something else and bang, we have a print or DNA match. DCI Templeton barely goes home and I get daggers when she sees me leaving. I’m not sure how much more I can take.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound fair. It’s too much pressure.’

  Alyson shrugged. She took one last sip from her glass before standing, with a wobble, and setting it down on the table. ‘It’s marginally better than being taken off the case. At least, I think so. What I need is to get to my bed. Do you mind?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ I said and stood too, to give her a hug. ‘You’re end of the hall on the left. I’m on the right if you need anything.’

  ‘Thanks. Goodnight.’

  ‘Night, Aly.’ She’d just left the room when I had a thought. ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘When you say he was stabbed on either side of his head, you mean around his ears?’

  She pushed her head back through the door. ‘Oh, his ears were completely obliterated. Why?’

  ‘No reason. I guess I was just trying to picture it,’ I lied.

  I finished off my own glass, thinking about something I’d heard.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Water Under the Bridge

  The Water of Leith Cafe in Cannonmills was the designated spot for peace talks. I was a few minutes early and so ordered two cappuccinos, assuming Dad would be having his usual. I was a little nervous and a little embarrassed about being nervous. I sat, dipping my complimentary piece of shortbread into the chocolate-dusted foam and watching the window. Only one other table was occupied, though not entirely surprising since it was midday on a Monday.

  Ten minutes later I reached for his shortbread, figuring it was the least he could do for being late, besides he needn’t ever know. Then I spotted him crossing the road; he was with Heather. At least, I assumed it was her. She looked vaguely like the woman who’d rushed past me in the hall a few nights ago. They were holding hands.

  I stood as they entered and accepted my father’s robust shake. Then Heather, looking indecisive, kissed me on the cheek. An involuntary ‘Oh, OK,’ left my lips as she moved to the other cheek. ‘I’m sorry, Heather. I didn’t realise you were coming or I’d have ordered something for you too. Let me get the chap’s attention.’

  ‘No, no. That’s OK, really. I just wanted to pop my head in and say hello. Maybe try to give a better impression of myself before leaving you boys to it.’

  ‘Yeah, look. I’m really sorry—’

  ‘Really, there’s no need to be. Water under the bridge, eh?’ she said and gestured to the window and laughed. The cafe was right on the edge of a bridge spanning the river. I laughed too and hoped it sounded genuine. She then kissed my father, a lingering open-mouthed kiss, and left. I was screwing my face, I suddenly realised, and forced it to relax before he noticed.

  ‘Usually get a wee bit shortbread,’ he said, spinning his cup and looking around the saucer, disappointed. ‘Must be out.’

  ‘Must be. Listen, Faither, before we get started, I just wanted to say a few things, if that’s all right with you?’

  ‘Aye, though I didnae mean for this to be a confrontation or anything. I just thought we should, you know, chat.’

  ‘Good. My thoughts exactly. All I was going to say was … Look, I think it’s brilliant you’ve met Heather. She seems nice and she’s clearly good for you. Look at you in a clean shirt.’

  He smirked and lifted his coffee, already looking more relaxed.

  ‘I can’t remember how many times over the years I’ve said to a friend or colleague that I wished you’d meet someone. I really mean that. Now, about the other night, I’m sorry I embarrassed you. It wasn’t my intention and if I’ve caused any tension between you two, then I deeply regret it. I was just surprised is all. One minute I think we’re being burgled and the next … well.’

  ‘It’s me should be apologising, acting like a bloody teenager. On the bloody sofa, what was I thinking?’

  ‘Dad, it’s your house. You should be able to do as you like. That’s why I’ve been thinking …’
r />   ‘Is that what that smell is?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking I’ll start looking for a place. The only reason I haven’t is because I wasn’t sure if Edinburgh would be a good fit for me. And after what happened last year, I wasn’t sure if staying in the police was on the cards either. But I can honestly say I’m in a much better place, both literally and figuratively. I like Edinburgh, and I like working here, so I think I’ll stick around. I can rent at first—’

  ‘Nonsense. If you’re hell-bent on moving out then I won’t stop you, but you’re as welcome to stay now as you were when I first suggested it. I’ll no have you moving out into a rented place. That’s just pouring good money down the drain. No, if you’re goin’ tae do it, then at least wait until you find a place to buy. If I can help, I will. Til then, you stay put. Besides, I like it at Heather’s. She has a lovely big place out at Inverleith. I reckon I’ll be there more than home.’

  ‘Moving in? So soon? Is that not a bit …?’

  ‘I’m seventy next birthday, Donald. Caution is an indulgence of the young. She likes me, I like her and we’re enjoying each other as you, much too graphically, saw.’

  At this I laughed and choked on my coffee. Dad patted me on the back of the shoulder as I coughed and laughed it out.

  ‘OK, Faither. If you’re sure? I won’t kick the arse out of it. I will start looking.’

  ‘No rush. And I’ve to invite you to dinner at Heather’s sometime soon, she said. I don’t know your shifts, but we’re happy to work around you.’

  ‘That’s kind. It’ll be nice to get to know her properly. I’ll let you know. I better be getting to work,’ I said, seeing the clock behind the waiter at the till. I stood and swallowed the remainder of the coffee. ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘It’s really nice of you to let me stay and I don’t want to seem like I’m taking advantage, but I wonder if I might ask a wee bit more?’

  ‘Well, you can ask.’

  ‘Alyson, you remember?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘She’s found herself working in town for a while. She asked if she might stay to save her running back and forth from Glasgow. How’d you feel?’

  ‘It’s no bother. Like I say, I’ll no really be there. Are you two …?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. Just friends. Thanks, Dad, I’ll let her know.’

  He stood and shook my hand again. I knew better than to attempt a hug.

  At Drylaw station, Mandy was itching to speak to me. I managed to fend her off while we mustered and discussed events in the area over the long weekend off. There wasn’t much to catch up on and, miraculously, no smashed car windows. She eventually cornered me in the hall while the others were busy sorting through their kit and printing off crime reports.

  ‘Well?’ she asked in a low voice, drawing out the L’s into a sordid interrogation.

  ‘Well what?’

  ‘What do you mean what? You and Marcella is what.’

  She reminded me of a puppy watching a ball about to be thrown. ‘I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re on about,’ I said and moved to walk on.

  She skipped around in front of me. ‘Oh, no you don’t. Marcie pulled that shit and I’m not having it.’

  ‘Excuse me?’ I said in mock disgust.

  ‘I’m not having it, Sergeant.’

  ‘Better. But I still have nothing for you.’

  ‘Oh, come on. I know she went home with you. I got that out of her.’

  ‘What else did she say?’ I stopped walking, now curious.

  ‘Not a damned thing. No matter how much I badgered her.’

  ‘Look, nothing happened. Not really. Does Morgan know we left together?’ I said. Now I was whispering.

  ‘I don’t think so. He never mentioned anything. So, are you seeing her again?’

  ‘I … Did she say she wanted to see me again?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Wait, did she say she doesn’t want to see me again?’

  Mandy was now wearing a large, smug smirk. ‘No, she just didn’t say either way, but you don’t need to be a detective to see that you like her.’

  I shook my head and started walking again. ‘It’s a moot point, Mandy. Trust me. Tell her I said hello.’

  If Morgan did know I’d left that night with the woman he’d set his sights on, he didn’t show any sign of resentment. I took the van out of the station, thinking that it spoke well of Marcella that she hadn’t used that night as a source of hilarity. Certainly, there was a good anecdote there. Had she not said anything to be kind to me? Or was she just a bit embarrassed about the whole thing herself?

  It suddenly occurred to me that Morgan had been making chat during the short drive over and that I hadn’t heard a word; something about football, I think. I’d driven almost on autopilot, but the destination had been on my mind since I’d shared the bottle of wine with Alyson.

  ‘You want me to stay in the van, Sarge?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Should I come with you? Or stay here?’ Morgan said.

  ‘Oh. As you like. I won’t be long, but there’s probably a cup of tea inside.’

  Michelle answered the intercom and then opened the door to us. ‘Come away in, lads, I hope you’ve got your dancing shoes on,’ she said and then walked off down the hall.

  ‘What is she talking about?’ said Morgan. I was about to say I had no idea, but then the sound of music caught my ear. I followed Michelle and the noise grew. I recognised the song, something from my childhood. I couldn’t tell you who it was by, but it was sort of a novelty song. I remember my mum doing some kind of dance to it, such an early memory. Michelle opened the door to the dining hall and a loud blast of the song hit us. There were flashing lights and balloons being kicked into the air by the dozen or so gyrating residents being instructed from a small stage that had been erected. A woman stood there, with a ridiculous 80’s style pink wig on, flanked by two large sets of disco lights and speakers. She had her arms raised in the air, as did most of those following her as she sang ‘Ah-Ga-Doo-Doo-Doo’. Michelle ran into the centre of the room to yell the song back at the woman, hooking her arm around Mimi as she did. As crazy as it was, those taking part seemed to be having a great time. From the far corner I saw Vicky waving, she came skipping over, keeping to the beat.

  ‘Let me guess. You heard the song from outside and just had to come and join in?’

  I laughed. ‘Actually, it was Morgan here wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wondered if I could steal a few minutes of your time, Vicky. It wouldn’t take long.’

  ‘Aye sure. Just gimme a sec. Michelle!’ she yelled and had to shout again over the music. Michelle came over, still singing. ‘I’m just going to have a word with Sergeant Colyear, you’re OK with this lot?’

  ‘Course. Hey, you need him an’ all?’ Michelle nodded at Morgan.

  ‘No, he’s all yours,’ I said and patted the lad on the shoulder. He glared back but didn’t put up much of a fight as Michelle pulled him into the room.

  I lowered myself into the office chair and waited for Vicky to return. She did so after a few minutes with mugs and packet of digestives. I felt a moment’s guilt that I had all but promised Morgan this cuppa and instead he was probably performing a ‘jump to the left’, doing the ‘The Time Warp’ by now.

  ‘The residents seemed to be enjoying themselves,’ I said.

  ‘They love it. Every second Monday Shirley comes in with her mobile disco and has them all up. It’s good exercise and a great giggle. She doesn’t charge a penny either. Her own mother was cared for here a few years back before she passed and, I suppose, it’s a sort of thank you.’

  ‘That’s nice of her. I must admit, the thought has come to me lately about what I might do when my own dad gets old. Though to be honest, I could see him outlasting me. My view of what a care home is has changed since I’ve come to know this place. I suppose the clue is in the name, but you lot really do care for your residents. It’s reassuring.’

  ‘Aww, thank yo
u. I have the best team and although it’s hard work sometimes, I think we’re all pretty happy here. You’re here about Martin?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said and laid my mug down. ‘How is he?’

  ‘Much the same. No outbursts of late but he’s dark most of the time.’

  ‘I wanted to ask about his last outburst. You mentioned something and I wondered if you might be able to elaborate on it a little.’

  ‘I said something?’ Vicky laid her mug down now. ‘What was it?’

  ‘I wish I’d written it down, but it was something about hearing God?’

  ‘Yes, I do remember that. He was up all night. I’ve never seen him so distressed. Between me and Mathew we had to practically hold him down until he fell asleep.’

  ‘Mathew is the tall staff member with the beard?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Do you remember what Martin was saying, exactly?’

  ‘Shouting more like. Um, it was, oh what was it now? “The word of God” I think. “Hearing the word of God”. If you want, I could call Mathew? He might remember it better than me.’

  ‘If it’s not asking too much?’

  She shook her head as she scrolled through her phone. She then laid it on the desk between us and a ring tone sounded through its speaker.

  ‘Vic, everything all right?’ came a deep voice. There was a busy noise behind him, voices and crockery.

  ‘Everything’s fine. Listen, I’m sorry to call on your day off, it’s just that I have Sergeant Colyear here, he had a few questions. Is this a bad time?’

  There was a pause as Mathew seemed to be saying something to someone where he was. Then he was back. ‘Gimme a second, Vic, hold on.’ Then another pause and suddenly the background noise was gone. ‘OK, I’ve come outside, I can hear you better now.’

  ‘Mathew, it’s Don Colyear here. Sounds like we’ve caught you at a bad time. It’s not all that important if you’re busy?’