by Liz Mistry
He paused and shuffled his feet around on the gravel. ‘In fact, it’ll break her heart.’
Sadia studied Gus for a moment and then nodded. ‘OK, Gus. I’ll help. I’d do anything for your mum.’
As she walked away to help Corrine with her bag, she turned back. ‘I’d like to speak with you tomorrow – you know before you head back to Bradford. I think we need to clear the air.’
Gus studied her. She was beautiful, caring, considerate, intelligent, and in that moment as she flashed him a smile, he realised he’d never got over her. Would he ever?
Chapter 57
Bellbrax Psychiatric Facility, Scotland
They keep following me about. Bernie mostly, but they don’t let me out of their sight. Something’s going on and I don’t know what. Someone’s always with Rory too. They usually leave him alone; he doesn’t like being crowded. Something is definitely wrong. I can almost smell it, but I don’t know what to do. So, I walk round and round the garden like a fucking teddy bear. I stop now and then, do my stretches, like always, but my fists need to stay in my pockets. Bernie wants me to play draughts with him, but I can’t. I can’t because if I take my hands out of my pockets, I’ll hit myself. I’m so fucking tired. I’ve kept this to myself for so long, but now it has to stop. I can’t do this anymore … I just want to be free of this burden. Free to do my gardening and just be left alone.
I know what I’ll do. I’ll ask to see Dr Mara. I’ll just tell her everything. I’ll tell her all about Rory’s sketches. I’ll tell her about Coco, I’ll tell her about the photo I found with the eyes stabbed out and – Oh God, it’s too much. I glance round. Bernie’s talking to one of the others, so I pull my hands out of my pockets, and slam my fists into my head in a quick one two, one, motion. Thump, thump, thump. Then, just as quickly, I jam them back in and keep walking, No sounds. Nobody yelling. They didn’t see me.
My head’s sore, knuckles too. No blood though – that’s good. I’m breathing so hard, like I’ve run around the garden, not walked. It’s so hard. I’ve got to tell her. Tell Dr Mara, it wasn’t me. It was never me. But they won’t believe me. They won’t, I know they won’t. I’m breathing too fast. My eyes are all misty. I can’t move my legs. I can’t keep walking. I fall to the grass, it’s wet, because the hose has been out. I don’t care.
My hands are out of my pockets and I’m punching and punching and punching my head, my face and I’m yelling and yelling, ‘It wasn’t me. It wasn’t ME. It wasn’t Me!’
Thump, thump, thump! Every punch makes me yell louder; I can’t stop myself. Bernie’s there, he’s trying to grasp my arms, but I’m crying and the salt from my tears nips the cuts on my face. Thump, thump, thump!
‘It’s OK, Jimmy. It’s OK, lad. We’ve got you.’
I look up at him as the liquid peace floods through my brains. He’s smiling at me. Bernie’s smiling, but he’s also frowning. I grab his hand, my eyes flutter. ‘It wasn’t me, Bernie. It wasn’t me. It was never me.’
‘I know, Jimmy. I know. I’ve got you now.’
Chapter 58
Scotland
‘How’s your mum taking it?’
Glad of the privacy after the long car ride, Gus lay on his bed in the hotel, speaking to Alice on the phone. ‘I’ve not told her yet. Thought I’d let her settle in her room. Sadia’s with her and Carlton and I will head along in a bit. I just wanted to touch base with you before I did. This is bloody crazy, Alice. What the hell is going on?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. Two damn suspects who look really good for this … except…’
‘Yeah, except the fact they’re both locked up in a psychiatric unit and definitely not our killer.’
‘Now we know that both Jimmy and Rory are linked to your mum, we might be able to find out more. Sadia didn’t check out Jimmy’s visitors, or even try to talk with him – I mean why would she? We’ve got them working on checking the visitor log. They’ll have that information available for you when you arrive. We were focussed on Rory and how the hell his drawings made their way from a secure facility in Scotland down to Bradford.’
‘Have you got anything else on Jimmy?’
‘Compo’s been performing all sorts of magic. Jimmy apparently strangled his own wife to death and landed ten years in Barlinnie Prison. But get this, Gus – looking at the crime scene photos, after he strangled her, he hung her from the ceiling and left her there – maybe he thought the police would think it was suicide, but they were too savvy to fall for that one.’
‘Can you get the PM report sent to my dad – I want him to check for any sort of similarity between that murder and the two we’ve got.’
‘On it. Jimmy had two sons, they were only ten and twelve when he killed their mum. Jimmy had lost his job at the shipyards and, so the report says, his wife was feeding her drug habit through prostitution. Jimmy found her in bed with a client and … well as they say, the rest is history. I reckon that’s why his sentence was so lenient.’
‘Poor sod. What happened to the sons?’
‘Well … they were put into foster care and the eldest, Ben, was eventually adopted by his foster parents and by all accounts made a success of his life. He’s apparently living the good life in Oz as some sort of computer whizz kid. Nancy’s trying to contact him right now.’ Alice lowered her voice. ‘Anything to get her out of my hair, she’s driving me bloody wild with her demands.’
Gus subdued a laugh. Nancy could be over enthusiastic and demanding and while Gus was used to it, he’d always been the buffer between Nancy and Alice. He wished he was a fly on the wall right now.
Speaking normally again, Alice continued, ‘The younger son, John, wasn’t so lucky. After doing the rounds with a variety of foster parents, he became a bit of a handful. He managed to get himself on the straight and narrow after a few years of being a toerag, you know shoplifting, stealing cars etc.? He lives in Glasgow.’
‘Did Jimmy reconnect with his kids after his release?’
‘Well, that’s the thing. Apparently, he did – or rather tried to. On his release he tried to meet with the boys, but they wanted nothing to do with him. The brothers had lost touch over the years, but when Jimmy started stalking them on his release, they each separately took out a restraining order. Ben still lived with his parents, but John was married, and his wife was pregnant. Police records show that neither of Jimmy’s sons wanted to reconnect, but Jimmy apparently became increasingly persistent. So…’
With a sinking feeling, Gus thought through what Alice had already told him. ‘Jimmy killed the younger son’s wife, didn’t he?’
‘Exactly. When they caught him, he didn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he insisted it wasn’t his son’s wife but his own mother he’d killed. He stuck to that story consistently, saying the devil was in her and she needed to die. As did Coco. He was deemed too fragile to remain in the main prison population and was admitted to Bellbrax psychiatric facility.’
‘Shit, Coco was what they called my mum. He wants to kill my mum?’
‘I wondered about that. Thought the similarity in their names was too coincidental for him not to be referring to Corrine. What are you going to do?’
‘She protected him – she was only a kid herself, but she protected him. She put herself in danger for him. Why would he want to kill her?’
Clearing her throat, Alice paused. ‘Don’t ask how, but Compo got Jimmy Cameron’s psychiatric reports. He basically considers your mum to be a traitor. He thinks she left him. His mum taunted him with tales of how Coco had escaped their poverty, gone on to better things. How she’d laughed when she thought he was dead. How she’d really hated him. He had a vulnerable mind and his mum basically brainwashed him. Encouraged him to vent all his anger and blame on Corrine. He didn’t know how hard Corrine had it – he was a kid who was deserted by the one person who always looked out for him and it hurt that she left him.’
‘He got married though?’
‘Yes, that’s a t
ragedy in its own right. He married a junkie who after Jimmy got laid off at the docks, touted herself to make ends meet. The trouble was, she used her earnings to feed her habit, not the two sons they had.’
Nausea sat in the pit of Gus’s stomach. Through the course of his career he’d witnessed many families that were equally dysfunctional. His friend Greg had been in such a family and Gus’s parents had made sure he was fed; they’d taken him on holidays too. Nobody did that for Jamie after Corrine had gone. And the one person who looked after his mum killed herself, sending Corrine back into the foster system – a system that was harsh and unforgiving fifty years ago.
‘The brothers must be credible suspects, Alice?’
‘I agree. It’s plausible the apple didn’t fall far from the tree with those boys. But that still doesn’t really explain a motive, does it? Why would they blame your mum? Why would they kill innocent women? It’s all very confusing.’
‘Could they be working together, do you think?’
‘Anything’s possible, but records intimate that they’d lost touch after their dad was sentenced for their mum’s murder – plus, if Ben is in Australia, that leaves us with John on his own. Police Scotland are arranging to have John brought in for questioning when they locate him.’
‘At least one of them is in Bradford, Al. We know that. Who the hell else could it be?’
Alice sighed. ‘It’s tempting to think that, but we still need to keep an open mind.’
Gus pressed his fingers across the bridge of his nose and moved into a sitting position. If he remained coddled in the soft pillows and mattress, he could all too easily doze off. ‘Anything else, Al?’
‘Yes, your dad’s looked again at the strangle marks on Erica Smedley and’ – her voice cracked a little – ‘Jez Hopkins and agrees they’re a match. He also says that although he can’t be quite as certain, because of the rope marks around the female victims’ necks, he thinks in terms of size and span, the strangulation marks are consistent with the two other murders which…’
A sharp knock on Gus’s door followed by a, ‘Hallooee, Gus, it’s me,’ had Gus jumping to his feet. Hold that thought, Al, Carlton’s here, I want to get his take on this.’
He opened the door, allowing Carlton accompanied by an overpowering smell of Millions aftershave to enter. Blinking to stop his eyes watering, Gus switched his phone to speaker, closed the door, and listened while Alice brought the psychologist up to speed.
When Alice had finished, Carlton sat down in the armchair near the window and crossed his legs. Leaning back, he said, ‘Hmm…’
‘What do you mean, hmm? We don’t have time for hmms. What do you think?’ Gus’s tone was testy. This was a significant development and he had his own ideas, questions, and thoughts about it, but he wanted Carlton to give his interpretation first.
Alice, still listening in, snorted and Gus sent the phone a frustrated glare. He imagined Alice, feet up on his desk, Doc Martens leaving scuff marks no doubt, her black lined eyes sparkling in amusement as she tried to stifle her snigger. Sometimes he hated her.
Sitting on the end of the bed, Gus sighed. There was no point trying to rush the other man, so he’d just have to be patient. Unfortunately, Gus’s patience was wearing thin and the thoughts swirling in his brain were overpowering. He needed to clear his head a little, so he straightened his spine, and began breathing in deep slow breaths, ignoring Alice’s tinny voice over the phone. ‘You all right, Gus? You’re not having one of your panic attacks, are you?’
Distracted Gus scowled. ‘Don’t be stupid, I’m trying to clear my…’
‘Because you often get them when you’re stressed and TBH I can’t imagine a more stressful situation than the one you’re in right now.’ She paused and Gus exhaled, glad that she’d shut up, only to hear her tapping her finger nail on the phone. She did that when she was pensive, and Gus gave up on the breathing exercises. Primarily because his partner wasn’t done.
‘I mean, you’re on the brink of disrupting the whole meaning of your mum’s life – who knows how she’s going to respond … and that Jimmy bloke wants to kill her – you sure…’
Carlton shook his head and interrupted her. ‘I’m sure we’re well aware of all the possible anxieties this could cause Corrine, Alice, but perhaps let’s focus on what this additional information tells us.’
Grateful to Carlton for intervening, Gus smiled at him. ‘The prof’s right. What’s going through my mind is why would our killer chose two different MOs. We as a team have no links whatsoever to the two women, but…’ He paused. ‘We do have links to both Smedley and Hopkins.’
‘That was my thought too, Gus. I think this killer is fucking with us. Although he is a serial killer by definition, he doesn’t display the standard markers of a serial killer. He has two very different MOs, and although he’s consistent so far, in terms of the pregnant women, the only consistency in terms of his other little venture is the victims’ spurious link to the investigation.’ He paused. ‘This is much more complicated than it appears … fascinating. Truly fascinating.’
A thought niggled just on the periphery of Gus’s mind. It was there nagging at him, but just out of reach. Blocking out Carlton’s ongoing assessment of how fascinating the killer was, he tried to blank his mind – to let the thought develop organically. It was key, he was sure. An important consideration…
Interrupting Carlton mid flow, Gus jumped up. ‘I got something, Alice – Our killer would have been able to target Jez Hopkins easily enough – he asked a question at the press conference, he’s written articles about the Brookes woman … but how could he link Erica Smedley to the investigation? She was a CSI – not high profile, not in a position of authority, so how or, perhaps more importantly, why would he target her?’
‘He’s at the scene – he’s staking it out, revisiting the scene – which tells us how he saw Smedley – but not why he would target her. I initially didn’t think it through properly. Smedley would be completely in her CSI overalls. She isn’t in the public eye, so how could she have attracted the attention of our killer?’
The three contemplated this. Gus knew that this was important – very important, but for the life of him he couldn’t quite piece it together.
Eventually, Carlton nodded. ‘Hopkins was dismissive and rude in his reporting. That could be enough to set our guy off, but Erica Smedley was a nonentity.’
Frowning, the psychologist continued, ‘I wonder if our killer is somehow or other accessing information that we’ve been keeping quiet. Smedley’s name would be on any evidence she signed over to us, it would be easy to see who worked on the periphery of the investigation – uniformed officers, CSI’s admin staff, but that would require…’
Alice snapped her fingers. ‘Shit, remember Compo trawled through the Hudson Clinic’s security layers? He discovered someone had accessed their patient files but had covered their tracks. Maybe someone has done the same with our files? I’ll get Compo on it asap.’ And with only the click from Gus’s phone to indicate she’d hung up, the two men were left staring at each other in Gus’s hotel room.
Chapter 59
Scotland
Opening her hotel room door to Gus and Carlton, Corrine invited them in. Perching on the edge of the bed she spoke before they could. ‘Perhaps the three of you’ – she nodded towards Sadia – ‘think I haven’t noticed the sideways glances you’ve been sending my way when you thought I wasn’t looking. But, just to be clear – you may all think I’m a doddering old fool, but I’m here to remind you I most certainly am not. Now will you tell me what the hell you’ve been keeping from me since we left Westmoreland?’
Despite the severity of the situation, Gus found his lips twitching. His mum had always been able to work out if Katie or he were up to something and she’d only grown more perceptive over the years. Sadia and Carlton wouldn’t be the first to be fooled by her flaky, effervescent demeanour. Corrine McGuire was a force to be reckoned with. But what really
amused Gus, was the way her slight Scottish accent had become stronger with each mile they’d travelled. It made him remember when he was younger, and her accent had seemed exotic to his friends. Over the years, living in Bradford, she’d incorporated a range of Yorkshire into her vocabulary and her accent was less pronounced, it felt good to hear it again.
Carlton opened his mouth to speak, but Corrine wafted her hand at him. ‘I want to hear this from my son first, Sebastian. You can give me the psychology report later, but I’d like Angus to bring me up to speed.’ She smiled to soften her words. ‘I assume that whatever you have to impart is going to be difficult for me to digest, Angus?’
Gus leant forward in the leather chair he’d selected to sit in and held his mother’s gaze. He didn’t want to be the one to destroy what she thought she understood about her childhood. To be the one to tell her that the little brother she doted on wasn’t dead and had grown up to be a killer, who hated her as his worst nightmare. Much less did he want to tell her that her little Jamie was now a grown man in the same facility as her foster brother, Rory. His mum was strong, He knew she was, but this would be difficult for her to process.
The truth was, she didn’t have time to process it. They had to interview – or make at least a half-hearted attempt to interview Rory, but Gus also had to try to connect with Jimmy as well as find out more about any visitors Jimmy might have had. The main worry he had was that Corrine would insist on seeing Jamie/Jimmy. Not for the first time he wished his solid old dad was here. He’d soothe Corrine – help him to break the news to his wife, but ultimately, Gus had to accept that even his father would be unable to convince her not to see Jamie.
Holding her hands in his, Gus told her everything, leaving out nothing – even the more unpalatable aspects that Compo had uncovered. Corrine sat, straight backed, her eyes, so like his, staring into his soul. Occasionally her grip on his fingers increased, but otherwise she betrayed no emotion. When he’d finished, Corrine exhaled as if she’d been holding that single breath for the entire duration of Gus’s revelation. Sadia poured her a glass of water and handed it to her. With a nod, Corrinne accepted and took a long drink, before handing the glass back.
