This wasn’t the vision of the man – she was at the centre of it. In the same position the lad had been in.
The sudden burst of pain in her back was almost more than she could bear and it slammed her back to reality as she gasped, moving her hands up and down her back, feeling for the hook that moments ago had been embedded there.
It took several seconds for her mind to register that she wasn’t swinging on a metal hook, that she wasn’t in some derelict factory unit. She was in fact, safe and sound inside the flat. Toni’s heart was still pounding in her chest, but the sharp pain she’d felt in her back was starting to ebb. Focussing, she tried to slow her breathing.
Somehow, she knew that she’d just seen a vision of her future. That was something she’d never felt before and yet she knew, with certainty, that it was right. Whoever had taken those young men and killed them in the vaults, was now gunning for her.
Why though? It makes no sense.
Her phone tinkled in her bag, and Toni drew in a few deep breaths before checking it. It was Mark. He’d stopped at the shop at the top of the road for a drink and was letting her know he was a few minutes away. I’ll analyse the vision later. It’s obviously not going to happen imminently or Sam would be warning me. Her guide was like that, always on hand to warn her when danger was present. She’d managed to avoid some serious scrapes thanks to his guidance. She drew in another shuddery breath, wrapped her scarf round her neck, and left the flat, knowing she needed to speak to Mark.
23rd December, 1100 hours – Edinburgh City Police Station
Mark glared at McPhee. ‘What the hell do you mean, I’m not helping execute the search warrant? This is Wright – I knew he was involved from the get-go. I was right. The hairs are a familial match – you can’t bench me now. Especially not with the links to the new victim – he’s been texting and ringing him regularly for God’s sake. Even tried covering his tracks by asking where he was. Christ, he visited his house! We’ve got him bang to rights and I absolutely should be involved in taking this bastard down.’
‘I can and I am benching you. Look, I know you were right, but I also know you’re verging on being disciplined for the last incident with Wright. You tell me how it makes sense to put you in the position where he can make a complaint against you. We need this completely transparent, Mark. You being there could cause a problem and hence, you’re not going to be. If he’s the one who clocked you and nicked your warrant card, then you being there will fuck it all up. Even without your history, you have a vested interest in the whole thing because of your card. I will oversee the warrant execution myself: Wright will not be getting off on any technicality this time.’ He paused, staring back at Mark, his words registering. ‘What do you mean he went to the victim’s house? We’ve not started canvassing yet. How do you know that?’
Mark paused. Shit – idiot. Open your big mouth why don’t you. ‘One of my CIs informed me last night. I was going to mention it this morning but we came in and all hell broke loose with the idents coming through.’ He did his best to look innocent, even avoided shuffling his feet which felt like all he wanted to do. This is like being sent to the headmaster’s office!
‘So, one of your confidential informants told you that Wright visited Lee? How did the CI know about the case?’
‘Well I’m not allowed to keep an eye on Wright, but you didn’t say I couldn’t get someone else to do it. I figured better safe than sorry. I told you he was responsible for that murder – but no one would listen. You all thought I was crazy. And now another three lads are dead – at his hands. This could have been prevented – and you know it.’
‘Watch it, McKay – I don’t take kindly to accusations like that. I followed the rules – did what we were supposed to do. I get that you’re pissed, but you take that tone with me and we are going to have a problem. Understand?’
Mark nodded silently, knowing McPhee was right. He needed to rein it back in – losing the plot now would be a mistake. We’ve got him, that’s all that counts.
‘Sorry, boss. I’m just frustrated. You’re right – I know you are. Just pisses me off that I’ve been on every death so far and I can’t be involved in the collar. But I get it. You want to do it right. No mistakes.’
‘Exactly. Now, am I going to have a problem with your CI? Did Wright know he was being watched.’
McPhee’s tone told Mark he knew Mark was lying – he obviously suspected Mark had been watching Wright but was going to let it slide as long as there was nothing that would blow back.
‘Maybe – but if he did know, he never did anything about it. Can’t see that he would say anything when we get him in interview. If he does, it’ll just look like he’s being paranoid anyway. He’ll be so busy trying to pull his arse out of the fire that he’ll probably forget to say anything. He’s wily – he’ll be a pompous know-it-all prick in interview. And he’ll have a solicitor on stand-by, I’m sure – lord knows he’s got the money to pay for the best.’
McPhee nodded once then motioned his hand for Mark to leave his office.
‘Go – see what other results you can get idents for. I doubt they’ll authorise the bloodied rag that CSI found in the tunnel because we’ve already got a hit off the hairs and that wasn’t found until afterwards – but it’s worth a go. We’ll seize his shoes as part of the warrant. Hopefully there’ll be a match there with the two scenes. And obviously the warrant outlines searching for something that could transfer the red fibres. We’ll be seizing his computer as well. The more we can tie Wright to this, the better.’
Mark agreed and left the office, pausing outside of the door and laying his head on the cool concrete of the plastered corridor wall. I need a drink. He knew Wright might well try and catch him out by telling McPhee he’d been watching him persistently, but that was part of their game. Wright knew he was watching, he knew Wright knew. But still the game was played. Wright believed he’d never be caught, that he was too clever for that.
Got you, though, didn’t we?
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a feeling of dread settled in his stomach. Wright was clever, he was smart enough to understand about DNA and evidence. He definitely had been smart in relation to the one he’d got away with. He’d known his DNA was present inside Steven – had argued the toss that it was all consensual and that the auto-erotic asphyxiation was Steven’s choice. Mark hadn’t been able to prove it was Wright’s idea. Even the guy’s desktop computer had been as clean as a whistle – not even any visits to porn sites. The digital forensics team had even told him that nobody had a computer that clean – asked if they’d found another device. But nothing else had been recovered.
Mark frowned. If Wright had been smart enough to use another device to cover his tracks then, was he really stupid enough to leave hair at the crime scene? And there was the discrepancy with the partial footwear mark. The footwear examiner had said it was a size twelve. He knew that Wright was a size ten. He might have been savvy enough to wear shoes bigger than needed to divert suspicion, but they were heavy tread too, like work boots of some kind. And CSI had said the weight appeared evenly distributed. Work boots didn’t feel like Wright. He seemed more one for expensive loafers and oxfords.
Is it possible that he didn’t commit these murders?
Now the doubt had crept in there was no escaping it. Mark made his way back to the incident room. He needed to go over every piece of evidence he had from each murder and see what else didn’t match. I can’t believe we’ve got him bang to rights and I’m looking for a reason to get him off. I must be nuts.
But he knew he would do it anyway. If there was one thing Mark knew, it was that he did the right thing. Sometimes the edges might get a little blurred but he was a good man. It was how he’d been brought up. Wonder if Alex would come and look over the case. He’s not biased in anyway – fresh eyes would be good. Already knowing the answer, he dialled Alex’s mobile off his desk phone and asked him to come down to the station.
23rd December, 1300 hours – The Writing Museum, Royal Mile
Toni hadn’t been able to settle all day. She’d told Mark the night before about her vision and he’d tried to put her at ease. The vision had changed midway, he’d pointed out. Was it possible she was just imagining the worst based on what she’d seen? She didn’t know – but she did know she wished her gran was still around to ask.
The museum was quiet today. It was the day before Christmas Eve and people had far too much shopping to do to come into museums. She often wondered why they didn’t just close the doors over the festive period. Then she remembered the look of absolute awe on one of the children that had visited earlier: the Beatrix Potter exhibit was small but it opened the imagination of the young ones. The smile on his face when he’d seen Peter Rabbit in all his cardboard glory was definitely why they stayed open through the festivities.
Closing her eyes, she focussed her attention on what her gran would have done about the vision. Mist filled her mind and she felt her gran’s presence. It was calming and she took a few deep breaths. Her gran’s gardenia perfume hung in the air as she focussed her attention, listening.
Eventually she opened her eyes – her gran would have focussed the zee energy on making the vision clearer. To do that she knew she needed red candles – red was a power colour closely associated with the zee energy that female Romani psychics and healers used. Toni knew she would do the ceremony when she got home after work. It would bring her guide, Sam, closer to her and let her communicate with him more freely. He would know if it was truly her in the vision or if it had somehow warped due to her fears and insecurities.
Decision made, she turned her attention back to the last bit of paperwork she had to complete before she could close the museum up early and head home.
23rd December, 1520 hours – Edinburgh City Police Station
Alex McKay was taller than his brother Mark. They stood side by side, flanked on the other side by their brother Ali, who was roughly the same height as Alex. Ali had decided to tag along when Alex had said where he was going. Ali hadn’t been at their mam’s long but said he needed a minute away from his kids. Alex’s two, Isobel, a feisty three-year-old, and his youngest, Oscar, was five months old and teething. Coupled that with Mary’s kids, Joseph’s, James’s and Max’s and the house was full.
Mark totally understood why a break was needed – he could well imagine the noise at his mam’s address with everyone there. It made him wish it was Christmas Eve night and he was already there: there was something all-encompassing about his family being in one place at one time. It was as if the whole world stopped for a short time so they could be a family.
At this precise time, his brothers had gone through the cases with a fine-tooth comb and were staring at the incident board. Three blond men’s pictures were mounted at the bottom – all named, all with the word deceased written above their heads. Red lines connected these images to a blank face. Wright’s face adorned another picture on the right-hand-side of the board. Green lines drawn from his picture to Lee’s, showing a definite link.
‘Let’s get coffee. We can go over everything then.’ Alex’s voice was commanding – it didn’t leave much room for denial. Mark knew Alex had always been like that – he was the oldest. When their dad had died in the line of duty, Alex had stepped up, became the man of the house. Mark felt the bitter taste of bile as he remembered Alex and Ali being twats and locking him under the stairs for the hundredth time. It wasn’t long after his dad had died. He’d immediately gone into panic mode, kicking the door and shouting. It had resulted in his first ever panic attack. The grief he was feeling too much when coupled with the fact he was locked in the dark again. He’d had a massive panic attack, sitting in the corner and crying, rocking back and forth until eventually Annie had come to his rescue. She’d ushered him upstairs and hidden him away so his brothers wouldn’t think he was a wuss. So stupid, the things you do as kids that you think is innocent fun.
‘Just before we talk about the case, can I say something? You’re both arseholes. Just so you know.’ Mark said the words quickly then walked quickly out of the office, not pausing to look back. He knew they’d be stood there with mouths agape wondering what the hell they’d done. And he didn’t care. For this moment, he was back in control of his feelings.
‘Hold on, you can’t just say something like that and walk away. What the hell, Bro?’
‘It’s history – probably should’ve said you were arseholes. Back when we were kids – you used to lock me under the stairs. That wasn’t funny. You know Annie ended up with claustrophobia. Well so did I. I have fucking panic attacks because I think the walls are closing in and trapping me. I’m a grown man who’s afraid of the fucking dark. I know you’re adults now and have grown up, but seriously, you were arseholes.’ Mark’s speech was hissed through gritted teeth, even in his emotional state he didn’t want the whole station to know.
‘You’re right. We were arseholes. I for one am sorry. I never meant to cause you any problems, Mark. It seemed like harmless fun at the time. And then Dad died and I know we did it more – there’s no excuses. We were all grieving. Hell, I still miss Dad every day. But I am sorry. If I can help now, just let me know, Bro. Please. I’ll come to counselling with you – whatever you want.’ Alex’s voice was sincere and he put his hand on Mark’s shoulder. Ali joined by doing the same on the other shoulder.
‘What he said, Mark. We were idiots. I can’t say sorry enough.’ Ali was also sincere – both actually looked horrified that they’d caused him such problems.
‘It’s okay – water under the bridge. Or will be anyway. I’m seeing a counsellor. I know it was just kids being kids. Annie said she’d told you about her issues ages ago. I intended to tell you, not scream and act like a kid. Apologies.’
Both Ali and Alex nodded. ‘Okay – over and done with. You know we’re here to help if we can. Coffee now. Please?’
Mark smiled – he knew he wasn’t cured but it felt at least like a step in the right direction. They headed down the corridor to the kitchen and he busied himself making coffees, looking up as McPhee came into the room.
‘Put one on for me,’ he directed at Mark then glanced at Alex and Ali, his eyes widening. ‘Hi. What’re you doing here?’
‘Mark asked us to come and look over a case he was working. That okay, or do I need to request permission from the chief super?’ Alex kept his tone jovial but Mark knew who’d win that pissing contest. Alex was on first name terms with the chief super – they played golf together on occasion when Alex was visiting. McPhee wouldn’t be able to say no if he wanted – which is partly why Mark had wanted his brothers to come down.
‘No, don’t be daft – you’re welcome here, you know that. I can’t see any issues in you looking at the case details – nothing hands on, though. A lot of hassle getting formal permission for a secondment this close to Christmas.’
‘I could sort it if I needed to, but you’re right. Informal only.’
Daggers shot between Alex and McPhee’s eyes at each other – Mark didn’t know the whole story but figured McPhee was ultra-pissed because Alex had been promoted ahead of him. Even now McPhee was only an inspector where Alex was a chief inspector. It must grate.
Mark handed the coffees out and smiled – he liked having ammo to mess with McPhee a bit – that man had a stick so far up his arse it could see daylight. Maybe he needed bringing down a peg or two by his older, bigger, better-ranked brother.
‘We executed the warrant on Wright’s flat a couple of hours ago. The warrant covered his vehicle as well. Recovered some red fibres from a rug in the van that look like they match the ones found on the victims. We’re awaiting formal confirmation of this, of course, but the CSM seemed pretty sure. We also must have raided at the right time cos Wright was sitting on his couch tapping keys on a laptop. There was no laptop located when you did the last search, was there?’ McPhee took a long slurp of his coffee as he stared at Mark,
a smug look on his face.
‘No. The desktop recovered was sent for digital forensic analysis but nothing was on it – cleaner than a whistle were the words the technician used. POLSA had the flat pulled apart – wonder where he was keeping the laptop? Unless he got it after he was released.’
‘Not likely – it looked well worn. Some of the letters had eroded on the keys. Someone dropped the ball during your search, I’d say. It’s over with digital now – they’re in the middle of breaking a paedophile ring so said the analysis will be a rush job but that it won’t be looked at until after Christmas. God knows how those men and women do their jobs. It’s bad enough dealing with kids as we do – I couldn’t bear to see those images day after day.’
‘Me either,’ agreed Mark, scowling at the thought, and for once feeling empathy with McPhee despite his jibes about the laptop.
‘He’s kicking up a storm – shouting about police harassment. He says we’ve been gunning for him after the accidental death of Steven Connelly.’
‘Accidental my arse. He’s shouting off because he’s cornered and guilty.’
McPhee drank the last of his coffee, wincing slightly as it went down. Mark took a sip of his and understood why – it was still molten hot.
‘You going to conduct the interview?’ Mark prayed the answer would be no: McPhee was not known for getting results in an interview.
‘No – I’m leaving that to DS Winchester. He’s good at getting the ins and outs.’
‘Just Wright’s type too – Winchester will put him at ease. He’s petite, blond, young-looking. Sounds like a good choice to me. Play to Wright’s fantasies.’
‘Well I didn’t pick him just because of that…’ McPhee smirked at Mark before leaving the room.
‘That wasn’t uncomfortable to watch at all,’ said Alex sarcastically. ‘Is he always such a pompous prick? Noticed the little jibe about your search. He’s using Winchester to get Wright to talk. I want to say that’s a clever move, but it sounds sick the way he said it.’
From the Dark Page 21