by Liz Mistry
Coco looks at me, still smiling.
‘Don’t trust her. Don’t trust her, Rory. She left you before, you can’t trust her.’
I clasp my arms over my head, forcing the voices to be quiet.
‘Rory, I can come back later, if you need time?’
Coco’s voice sings like it always did. I was so pleased when she spoke to me. First, before anyone else. I shake my head.
She steps closer and I can smell lavender. Just like Mum.
She approaches the bed and gestures to the thick sketch pad. ‘Can I look?’
I nod, still with my hands over my ears, ignoring the muffled, ‘Don’t let her see them, don’t let her in, Rory. You can’t trust her.’
She opens it to the first page and then gasps. My heart almost stops. Have I done something wrong? But then she’s looking at me, her hands clasped at her chest and tears running down her cheeks. ‘Rory, you drew me.’
She looks back at the book and flicks through the pages, one by one. Her smile gets bigger, but her tears keep falling and she keeps wiping them away. Finally, she turns to me. ‘I’ve missed you, Rory. Really missed you.’
I smile back and go to get another sketchbook for her to look at.
Chapter 68
Scotland
With so much running through his mind, Gus resorted to his usual stress buster. Leaving his mum and Sadia with Dr Carlton he took his mum’s car and drove to Lanark Loch. Parking up, he got out, already in his jogging kit and did his warmup exercises. The loch reminded him in some ways of the lake in Lister Park. It was a community hub, with children’s swings and picnic tables and activities. Gus looked forward to jogging round it. He found the presence of water nearby soothing when he ran. Although larger than Lister Park, it would take him only a short time to circumnavigate it. He decided then that he’d do at least two circuits, before returning back to attend the conference call he’d arranged with Alice earlier. They’d exchanged emails outlining the various events of the day. Although horrified by the third pregnant woman’s death, Gus hadn’t been surprised – they’d all known it would only be a matter of time before their killer struck again. He was concerned with Jules’s accident. He’d always got on well with the straight-talking CSI and he knew that, particularly after Erica Smedley’s murder, Sid would be beside himself. Jules had suffered a fractured skull and severe swelling on her brain as well as a compound break to her right tibia and a fracture to her pelvis and femur. She was currently in a medically induced coma and although her prognosis was good, her recovery would be slow and painful.
Feet pounding the ground as he ran round the loch, enjoying the slight breeze and the warm sun on his skin, Gus thought first about Jimmy – his uncle. God – that was a terrifying thought. His mum still insisted the man was innocent and Jimmy himself seemed to be intimating that too. However, Gus had acquired a healthy degree of scepticism over the years and enough experience and knowledge of the criminal mind to draw any such conclusions lightly. Jimmy’s entire story could be an elaborate fantasy. On the other hand, it could be the truth. It was so frustrating that Jimmy had succumbed to his anxieties. What would make a man take the blame for his son’s crimes in that way? Would Gus be prepared to sacrifice his freedom to protect his son? A series of images where Gus would do just that, sprung to mind – but not one of them portrayed his imaginary son as a serial killer. He thought about his own dad – Fergus. The auld yin would definitely protect Gus to the best of his ability – he’d walk on fire for Gus, but, and Gus hoped he was correct in this assumption, his dad would surely draw the line at allowing innocent people to die in order to save Gus. Breathing heavily, sweat dappling his forehead, Gus shook his head. He really wanted to talk more to Jimmy and found it difficult to resign himself to waiting till the next day.
Nearing the end of his first lap of the loch, Gus turned his thoughts to Rory. Seeing his mum and Rory together – Rory so eager to please and Corrine so full of guilt – had punched a hole through Gus’s heart. If Jimmy was telling the truth, the fragile, nervous man Gus had met this afternoon had spent years incarcerated with his grief. Could Rory and Jimmy have come up with this elaborate plan together? Gus’s gut told him that Rory was incapable of planning anything. He seemed devastated by his wife’s death and yet was so childishly happy to see his foster sister – Corrine had happily looked at drawing after drawing and then Sadia had joined in. Seemingly Corrine’s approbation made Rory less nervous of Sadia, for he showed her some images he’d drawn of her. Sadia had been so pleased when he’d given her one to take away with her. Gus had been less pleased when, as they took their leave, Rory pulled at his arm – a gentle, tentative gesture – and not making eye contact had thrust a drawing into Gus’s hand. Gus had assumed it was one of his mother, and had thanked Rory. It was only later when they were getting into the car to head back to the hotel that he’d looked at it – it was one of Sadia. Quickly turning it over, so no one else would see, Gus wondered why his heart had hammered so hard. He also wondered, why Rory had given him a sketch of Sadia. Perhaps there was no real meaning to it. Perhaps he’d just wanted to give each of his visitors a memento. Regardless, Gus had asked for an A4 envelope from the hotel reception and the sketch was now carefully packed away at the bottom of his overnight bag.
Ending his jog with a few cool-down stretches, Gus was dissatisfied with the lingering tension. Normally a run would dissipate it all, but this time it hadn’t worked. However, he had no time to dwell on that as he and Carlton had scheduled a conference call with Alice and Nancy and if he wanted to shower and eat before then, he had to get his skates on.
****
Showered, fed, and watered, Gus set up his laptop on the desk in his hotel room and waited for Alice and Nancy to connect. He and Professor Carlton sat side by side on the two uncomfortable hotel room chairs and for once, the psychologist was quiet, seemingly engrossed in his own thoughts. The screen crackled and then Alice and Nancy were there, with Taffy and Compo standing behind. Despite the seriousness of the occasion, Gus grinned when he saw both Compo and Taffy waving like kids reporting back to Daddy. While Carlton returned the gesture, Gus satisfied himself with, ‘Hi, guys, you all OK?’
Greetings exchanged they got down to business, with Alice updating them on the investigation in Bradford.
‘Karen Smith is a slightly different victim from the other two.’ Alice gestured to Compo. ‘The boy genius found that although she too had gone to the Hamelyn clinic for sperm donation, she’d done so in secret from her partner.’
Alice’s nose turned up. ‘The partner Munir Shah, a drug dealer and gangster – one of the ones who moved into the Bradford Three area after Shahid went straight, didn’t know anything about it. He thought he was the dad. Seems that Karen Smith had been trying to get pregnant for a while and when it wasn’t happening, decided to help things along, knowing Munir would provide for her and the kid. At any other time, he’d be our prime suspect, but with the other two murders we can rule him out after doing the necessary alibi check.’
‘How’s Jules?’ Gus asked.
‘Well, that’s been a blessing in disguise for us – not that I’d have wished for Jules to be hurt like that, but, it did make us focus on the hole in the ceiling, which drew our attention to the attic space. We reckon that the killer located the joists by entering the attic – hence the fact that there were no practice drill marks in the plasterwork. He knew where he was going to drill because he’d been in the attic in order to make sure he hit the joist. The CSIs are processing all three attic spaces as we speak and anything they find will get sent to the lab.’
She shrugged. ‘We might get nothing, but maybe he’ll have been a little more careless in the attics than he was in the houses. In terms of the PM, same old same old – ketamine in her system, same manual strangulation, and corresponding bruises, followed by the pulley. All the candles, toenail polish, lavender etc. are the same as before. The sketch is slightly different but is still of Rory’s mum
– or his wife perhaps. We are now, as Professor Carlton expected, onto verse three of the nursery rhyme.’
Gus nodded. ‘You want us to come back – we can travel down tonight and be ready to help-out tomorrow.’
Nancy leant forward, so her face took up the entire screen. ‘No, no. We’ve got things under control here, Gus. You should find out everything you can from Jimmy and Rory – that will be the best use of your time at the moment.’ She paused and bit her lip. ‘How clear is Jimmy about the whereabouts of his sons?’
Carlton coughed. ‘Ah, that’s the million-dollar question. We can’t ascertain the veracity of his statement at this point. He’s on medication, he’s a convicted murderer, and his psychiatrist is reluctant to accept the assertions he’s making as being accurate. It’s a tough one. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, there’s no record of John Cameron existing after 2006 – nothing – no employment records, no death certificate, no passport – nothing. On the other hand, Ben Cameron moved to Australia – all the paperwork indicates that, yet when we try to locate him there, we can’t. It’s as if he’s laid a false trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow.’
‘We don’t even have reliable images of either son,’ Alice’s frustration was clear by the way she wafted her hands around. ‘Did you get anything from the photographic visitor IDs from Bellbrax, Gus?’
Sympathising with Alice’s feelings, Gus snorted. ‘If, and I repeat if – Jimmy’s visitor is one or other of his sons – Jimmy insists it was Ben, the older son, then the bastard was savvy enough to disguise himself – beard, glasses, unkempt hair, and a baseball cap. They only just sent the images to me, but I’ll forward them to Compo and maybe some of the facial recognition programmes he has will be able to make something of them. Sadia has got her colleagues attempting to locate this visitor. The guy signed himself in as Douglas McCarthy. He had all the relevant documentation and had gone through the necessary security application to gain visitor’s rights, however, it seems he too has left a cold trail.’
Nancy gathered her skirt round her legs, crumpling the fabric and stuffing it between her knees. Gus recognised the action. This was Nancy’s way of clamping down on her annoyance. In this instance, she wasn’t wholly successful. ‘This just gets more and more suspicious. Jimmy could be working with his mysterious visitor. Jimmy and Rory could be working with the mysterious visitor. The mysterious visitor may or may not be one of Jimmy’s sons and the only person who can confirm that is an unreliable witness. Meanwhile, we’ve got pregnant women being killed off willy nilly. This is not on. It’s just not bloody on. We need to get a handle on this. All we seem to be doing is treading water.’
This was exactly how Gus felt, although he would equate it more with hiking through quicksand. He was angry that every turn they took seemed to lead to a dead end. The usual means of gaining information; witness statements, CCTV, neighbourhood watch, snitches on the ground, and forensic evidence had all drawn a blank so far. He didn’t share Alice’s hope that the forensic teams would gain anything more from processing the attics at the three hanging crime scenes, but experience made him believe that at some point this son of a bitch would mess up – they always did. He just hoped it was before anyone else lost their life.
Nancy was speaking again, her clipped tones emphasising her fury. ‘The more you can get from Jimmy, the better. What do you think of him, Sebastian?’
Sitting behind Nancy, and keen to lighten the mood a little, Alice winked at Gus and made a love heart sign with her hands at Nancy’s use of the professor’s first name. Trying to keep his face straight Gus shook his head. A quick glance at Carlton told him the professor had also missed Alice’s byplay.
‘Well, my dear, Nancy, I find myself rather drawn, from a professional point of view, to Jimmy Cameron. Corrine still insists her brother is innocent of murder and I’m inclining a little more in that direction myself after our unfortunately brief discussion today. I spent the afternoon studying Jimmy’s records, having gained his permission, including his psychiatric notes by Dr Mara. I’ve listened to his recorded consultations with Dr Mara and find them very repetitive – almost rote-like. Now, that in itself doesn’t mean much. It could be that these are the way his thoughts come to him. But he doesn’t speak in a rote-like fashion in person.’
Pausing to take a sip of sparkling water, Carlton tilted his head to one side. His face was lit up. The man was clearly in his element. Gus smiled, realising that perhaps he and Carlton weren’t so very different. They both enjoyed the puzzle – finding out how complex pieces fit together to make a conceivable whole. It was just their methods of reaching the conclusions that differed. While Carlton put all his efforts into untangling indicators from people’s minds, Gus preferred the hard facts of police work. Analysing the facts, checking their veracity, and following the clues.
Placing his glass carefully on the paper coaster supplied by the hotel, Carlton proceeded. ‘I also noticed a slight hesitation on some of the misogynistic phrases he used. Eventually I realised that, if he directed misogynistic comments generally and not towards a specific person, they flowed more easily off the tongue. However, when he referred to his wife, or John’s wife, or Corrine, he stumbled a little over the phrases – I’m still working on it, but my feeling is that we have a lot to learn from Jimmy Cameron.’
‘Well, all the more reason for you two to remain in Scotland for now. What are your next plans, Gus?’
‘I’m going to trawl through the files from Rory’s mum’s suicide, his wife’s death, and Jimmy’s daughter-in-law’s death. I’m hoping that something in those files will either repudiate or confirm Jimmy’s statements once and for all.’
Nancy directed her next words to Gus. ‘And how is your mum, Gus?’
‘You know my mum. She’s still determined to see Jimmy face to face – but Dr Mara, to date, is not allowing that. Her visit with Rory went well. She’s exhausted. Sadia agreed to stay overnight with her and visit Rory again tomorrow. Apparently, my dad has managed to re-jig things at his end and is catching a flight up to Edinburgh tomorrow. We’re hoping Jimmy will be up to another chat tomorrow.’
‘OK, that’s grand,’ said Nancy. ‘See you all soon.’ And with that the screen went blank, leaving Carlton and Gus gawping at each other.
The professor got to his feet. ‘Well, seems like Nancy’s too busy for chit chat, so I’ll retire to my room and listen to more of Jimmy’s consultations with his psychiatrist. Night night.’
Once Carlton had gone to listen to Jimmy’s weekly interviews with Dr Mara, Gus brought up the documents Sadia had obtained from the four cold cases that linked to Rory and Jimmy.
Rory’s mum’s case file was slim, because it had been considered a suicide. The paper file had been scanned and sent to Gus. In fact, the only digital case files were the two most recent. Gus elected to go through the documents in order. Rory had only been a kid when, on his return from school he’d discovered the body of his mum hanging from a makeshift hook in the ceiling. According to the physician’s report, Rory had gone into shock and remained that way for over a week. The death had been deemed suicide, mainly because Grace Robertson had, according to her GP, suffered from depression. In addition, she’d left a note which said, ‘I love you all, but I can’t go on and the voices won’t stop.’
It saddened Gus to think how circumstances had conspired to cause a young mother to take her own life which, in turn, caused deep rooted trauma to the son she was desperate to protect and resulted in another child being once more forced to uproot herself. He could see nothing in the report that indicated anything other than a tragic suicide. Yet, that wasn’t the full story. Many people were affected by Grace Robertson’s death. Her child, her foster child, her stepchildren, her husband, and her family as well as the parishioners in the close-knit community. Gus sat for a moment, considering the reports he’d read. Then, he remembered Jimmy telling him about the art show he’d gone to at the Art College in Edinburgh. The one where Rory
had displayed a series of sketches called – what was it? Torture?
Gus opened a new tab and began a search. Eventually he managed to find reference to the art show, which corresponded with the details Jimmy had provided. Picking up his phone he rang Compo. ‘Comps, I’m going to send you some details about an art show Rory Robertson displayed at. I wonder, can you find as much as you can about Rory’s artwork. What works he exhibited, where he exhibited them, and who bought them. I’d like to see as much of his work as possible. I’m particularly interested in a series of sketches he exhibited as part of his final degree show. The series was entitled Torture of the Mind.’
While waiting for Compo’s report. Gus opened the next file, which came from Glasgow police and consisted of scanned documents from the case files dated May 1996.
Initially, as Gus already knew, Jude Cameron’s murder had been deemed a suicide, but then the post-mortem reports had shown that rather than dying as the result of hanging, Jude had been manually strangled first. Gus looked closely at first the crime scene images and then the post-mortem ones. The crime scene had been well set up. Jimmy’s attention to detail at Rory’s art exhibition had apparently paid off. All the usual indicators of a suicide were visible – the toppled chair, the hook in the ceiling – it all, at first glance, pointed to a suicide, despite the lack of a note. Gus would have kept his options open and scrutinised Jimmy a bit more closely, but from the case files he gleaned the information that with Jude’s reputation as a drug addict and prostitute, rather than treat Jimmy as a suspect, they initially sympathised with him.
After a quick glance at the PM report and images, Gus opened up the last two files, one containing all the information on Rory’s wife’s death and the other the information on John Cameron’s wife’s death. He flicked to the pages with the PM images and reports before copying and pasting all the sets to a new document Then he sent a quick text to his dad, asking him to study the reports he was about to send him with an eye on similarities and differences to the post-mortem findings of the three strangled Bradford women.
