Dark is the Day

by Tana Collins

  ‘Jim, can I just say something to you?’

  His thoughts dragged back to the present. Carruthers looked at Mairi and was slightly alarmed to see the searching look on her face. He had no idea what was coming next.

  She was staring straight into his eyes with an intensity that burned. ‘I’m sorry. I know I hurt you when I left you. And I’m also sorry for changing my phone number and for cutting you off completely.’

  Carruthers could feel himself colouring but worked hard – very hard – at making his expression unreadable. Bet you’re not sorry for changing your name back though, he thought. ‘Why did you?’

  She shrugged. ‘It wasn’t easy… leaving you. I wasn’t happy. You know that. I still loved you but I had to leave. I needed a fresh start.’

  Mairi was still staring at him. Carruthers felt a tightening of his heart and tried to hide the pain in his eyes. He remained silent. Finally, he said, ‘It’s all water under the bridge now.’

  If only. No, he thought, strangely if I think about it, it still hurts. And then another thought came into his head. She loved me even when she left me.

  He looked at her intensely. ‘And did you get it? A fresh start?’ Their eyes locked.

  ‘In a manner of speaking.’ Mairi was the first to look away. She stared at her drink.

  What the hell did that mean? Was she with someone new or wasn’t she? And why did he even care? But he knew the answer to that one. How many years is it going to take before I’m over her? He was starting to regret agreeing to meet up. He should have sent someone else.

  ‘I’m glad I’ve had this opportunity to see you, Jim. I’ve felt I owed you an apology. But there is something else. Something I haven’t told you.’ She leaned in closer to him, crossing one slim leg over the other.

  He tried not to look at her ankles.

  ‘I have a student in one of my seminar groups. Male. John Campbell. DS Fletcher met him briefly. He knocked on the door when I was talking to her in my office. There’s something about him. I’m concerned about him. I want you to check his background out.’

  ‘Why?’ He stifled a yawn. It had been a long day. ‘We can’t run background checks on just anyone. There has to be a good reason.’

  ‘There is a good reason.’ Carruthers watched as his ex-wife spoke. He’s been bothering me.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s enough.’

  ‘He’s in the same tutorial group as Rachel Abbie. It might mean nothing but I have the feeling he’d been bothering her, too.’

  Carruthers stood up. ‘Before you carry on, I’m just going to get myself a drink. I’ve got a bit of a tickle in my throat.’ He looked over at Mairi’s near empty glass. ‘Get you another?’

  She smiled. ‘That would be lovely. Slimline tonic please.’

  Carruthers came back from the bar with a glass of sparkling water for himself and a slimline tonic for Mairi. He took a thirst-quenching gulp. ‘Can you be more specific? When you say bothering her?’

  ‘Well, as I said, I don’t socialise with them, the students. I mean it’s not professional. I’m their lecturer. But there were a couple of occasions when they came into my tutorial groups and Campbell was trying to talk to Rachel and she just cut him dead. It’s nothing specific, really. More of a feeling I got, but well, I felt that there was a bit of history between them.’

  ‘And when you say history? You mean sexual?’

  ‘Oh no, nothing like that. Just that Rachel seeing Campbell as a bit of a nuisance wasn’t anything new. I overheard her one time telling him to stop texting her. I just got the feeling that perhaps Campbell liked Rachel in a way she didn’t like him and that he was coming on a bit strong. I felt there was just a bit of friction between them. But obviously what happened outside my classroom I couldn’t comment on.’

  ‘Did you tell DS Fletcher all this?’

  Mairi reddened. ‘No, I didn’t. To be honest, I don’t know why I didn’t. I might have mentioned that I was concerned about him, but I think I was so shocked when she told me about Rachel’s murder that everything that I should have said went out of my head. That’s one of the reasons I asked to see her today. To tell her what I’ve just told you.’

  ‘And when you say you got the feeling he came on a bit strong with Rachel, and her feelings for him weren’t the same, is that what happened to you then?’

  Mairi hesitated and Carruthers could see she was mulling over how much to tell him. ‘Oh no. He’s actually threatened me. It was pretty unpleasant.’

  ‘When you say threatened, what exactly do you mean?’ Carruthers brought out his little black notebook from his back pocket, flipped it open and searched for a pen in one of his pockets.

  Several hours later Carruthers let himself into his cottage. He was tired and hungry. He’d ended up spending another forty-five minutes with Mairi in the pub, and then had walked her to the bus stop and waited with her until she’d got the bus, before going back to the station. It had felt strange spending time with his ex-wife.

  He searched his cupboards and brought out some pasta. He didn’t feel like cooking but the Anstruther Fish Bar had already shut and he really shouldn’t eat a carry-out two nights in a row. As he was cooking the pasta his phone rang. He picked it up.

  It was his brother, Alan. ‘Jim, did you get my message?’

  He stirred the pasta while cradling the phone under his chin. ‘Yes, I did. Sorry, haven’t had a chance to ring you back. Work is hectic.’

  ‘Is it okay then? Can I stay?’

  Carruthers had to think on his feet. He wracked his brains. He couldn’t remember his brother giving him a date. ‘Sorry, when is this? When do you want to stay?’ Turning the gas down, he left the pasta and walked over to the calendar on the wall. Taking it off the wall he realised he had it on the wrong month. He flipped it over with his free hand. Perhaps his brother wanted to mend some bridges, although by rights it should have been him who made the first move. The guilt returned. He supposed he could spare a few days the following month before he went on holiday. He hoped they would have cracked the case by then.

  ‘Well, to be honest, as soon as possible. Tomorrow?’

  Carruthers nearly dropped the calendar. And the phone. ‘Why? What’s wrong with your own place?’

  ‘I just need to get away for a few days and clear my head. Shouldn’t need to be with you longer than a week–’

  He replaced the calendar back on the wall. It was time to put his foot down. ‘Look, it’s really not convenient right now. We’re in the middle of a murder investigation and not just a murder investigation, there’s been–’

  ‘That’s so typical of you, Jim. You haven’t changed a bit. You’re never willing to put yourself out for anybody else, especially when it’s a member of your own family. Mum said you’d be happy to have me stay for a few days.’

  Carruthers experienced a quick burst of anger. ‘That’s not fair. And in ordinary circumstances of course I would be happy to have you stay.’ That wasn’t strictly true but he wasn’t about to say as much. ‘But unfortunately, these aren’t ordinary circumstances. You may have heard the news. There’s been two female students attacked in Castletown.’

  There was a pause before his brother spoke. ‘Can’t say I have.’

  Carruthers bristled at his brother’s obvious disinterest. Carruthers didn’t know whether to believe his brother or not. It would have made headline news around the UK and, let’s face it, his brother was only living in Glasgow. It wasn’t like he was living in the back of beyond. But then again, when had he ever shown any interest in what Carruthers was doing?

  Thinking of far-away destinations, he wondered if they were any closer to contacting Serena Davis’s parents. He hoped so. And not just for her sake. If it meant that awful Clare Stott could go home, he’d be a happy man. His mind wandered back to his brother. He wondered if Alan was being churlish. He hoped not.

  ‘So, I can’t stay?’

  ‘Look, it’s not a good time. I’m working l
ong hours and I’m up to my eyes. And you still haven’t told me why you want to. You have a perfectly good home in Glasgow.’ Now Carruthers knew he sounded peevish but he was getting frustrated. He glanced at his watch and the pasta was now overcooked. All he wanted to do was finish the call, get something to eat and go to bed.

  ‘So that’s a no then?’

  Carruthers switched the gas off. ‘Look, Alan, give me one good reason why you want to stay. But unless you’re prepared to tell me what the reason is at such short notice then yes, it’s a “no”.’

  There was a silence on the other end of the phone.

  After a few moments Carruthers couldn’t bear the silence a moment longer. Feeling guilty, he asked the question, ‘Are you going to tell me what’s going on? How’s your health? Are the stents working okay? No breathlessness?’

  ‘What do you care? Were you there for me or Mum when we needed you? Like fuck you were. Anyway, you know what?’

  ‘What?’ Carruthers couldn’t believe the bitterness in his brother’s voice and knew he wasn’t going to like the rest of the sentence.

  ‘You know it should have happened to you. Not me.’

  ‘What should?’

  ‘The heart attack.’ Then the line went dead.

  Chapter 14

  Friday: 9am

  ‘Jim, that student you wanted me to investigate, John Campbell–’ Fletcher placed a cup of black coffee in front of Carruthers. She took one look at him. ‘Jesus. You look awful. What’s up?’

  He nodded his thanks. ‘Nothing.’ He didn’t want to tell her about the phone conversation with his brother or the details of the meeting with his ex-wife. Fletcher was always telling him that he should have better contact with his family. Sometimes she acted like his older sister rather than his younger and more junior colleague. It was hard to believe that she was all of ten years younger.

  ‘Did you find anything out about Campbell?’ As he asked the question Carruthers pushed all thoughts of his ex-wife and his brother out of his head. It hadn’t helped that he’d dreamt about her last night. She’d been shagging his brother of all people and his brother had gone and had a heart attack during coitus. God, dreams were weird. He had woken up in a cold sweat. Thank God it was just a dream.

  But when he thought of what his brother had said to him, he flinched. Why was it siblings always knew how to press your buttons? It was almost as if his brother could see into his mind. The same question had gone through Carruthers’ head numerous times. Why hadn’t it been him that had had the heart attack? Perhaps Alan was right. Perhaps it should have been.

  The problem was that when his brother had had his unexpected heart attack Carruthers had felt guilty. Why should the fitter brother have a heart attack? It didn’t make sense. There was only a couple of years between them. It hadn’t helped that the operation wasn’t fully successful. The first lot of stents hadn’t worked so in the end his brother had had to have a bypass. But the worst of it was the realisation that his brother blamed him. Blamed and resented him. And that feeling of guilt had stayed with Carruthers. He dragged his mind away from his brother and made a concerted effort to focus on John Campbell.

  Fletcher clicked her fingers in front of him. ‘Jim. Earth to Jim. God, you’re miles away. Sure you’re okay?’

  ‘Yes, sorry. What did you want to say?’

  ‘It’s about Campbell. He’s got form. For assault. Apparently, he broke the collarbone of a fellow student at a previous university. The female student got hospitalised.’

  Carruthers’ ears pricked up.

  ‘Seems they were both students at the University of East Anglia when the assault occurred,’ Fletcher continued. ‘Looks like it happened two years ago. Campbell dropped out of his course and left Norwich soon after. But the interesting thing is that the student later withdrew her complaint.’

  ‘Let me see.’ Carruthers reached out an open hand and took the printout Fletcher offered him. He ran a troubled eye over it before looking up at Fletcher. ‘I wonder if there’s a link? Our victims were slashed and throttled, though. The MO isn’t the same.’

  ‘I still think he’s a person of interest, particularly in light of what Mairi told me about him. And he’s in the same tutorial group as Rachel Abbie. We need to talk to him.’

  Fletcher nodded. ‘I agree. But there’s something else. You know how I’ve been doing some background checks on the housemates who live with Rachel Abbie?’

  ‘Yeah, have you done the last two?’

  ‘Yes. Nothing on Sarah Torr at all to be concerned about. But Davey Munroe is another prospect altogether.’

  ‘Okay, that sounds promising. What have you got?’

  ‘Davey Munroe lives in Canada. His parents moved over when he was ten years old. I thought I could detect a North American accent. The thing is… I’ve found out both his parents are dead.’

  ‘That’s very young to have lost both.’

  ‘Yes, it is, but the interesting thing is that neither died due to natural causes. It appears Davey’s mother was known to the police as a domestic abuse victim. Davey and his mother spent some time in a refuge for abused women. She’d left her husband, Davey’s father, by then. It appears six months later he may have caught up with her and given her a beating. She died from it.’

  ‘May have?’

  ‘Nothing was proved so he didn’t stand trial for it.’

  ‘I see.’ Carruthers stroked his stubble. ‘You said he’d lost both his parents. How did his father die?’

  ‘Six months later his father’s body was found at the foot of the stairs where he lived with his son.’

  ‘Same son?’

  ‘Yep. Looks like Davey was an only child. Father and son were living back together.’

  ‘What age was Davey then?’

  ‘Fifteen.’

  ‘Still a minor, then? What do we think about the fall?’

  ‘Looks like he tripped on the top of the stairs. Suffered a fractured skull. Apparently, the carpet was pretty loose. Davey’s dad was going to fix it but he’d never got round to it.’

  ‘So it could have been an accident.’ Something struck Carruthers. ‘It’s very unusual that he was back living with his dad in those circumstances, isn’t it?’

  Fletcher nodded. ‘I’d say so. And it could have been an accident but seems a bit of a coincidence, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Okay. Keep digging. And Andie, good work.’

  Fletcher’s face lit up.

  ‘Have you seen Dougie?’

  Fletcher pulled a face. ‘No. Did you know his wife is back in hospital?’

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It was Willie who told me.’

  ‘Shit. What else did Willie say?’

  ‘Dougie is spending every spare hour at her bedside.’

  It was hard to believe the tough, no-nonsense throwback to the seventies cop was such a devoted and loyal husband. It just showed you should never judge by appearances, or even behaviour, come to that. Carruthers had to grudgingly admit that there was clearly more to Dougie Harris than met the eye.

  ‘Jim?’

  Carruthers looked up at Fletcher.

  ‘You don’t have to answer this, but I just wondered how you felt seeing your ex-wife again?’

  As fond as he was of Andie, if she had one big failing it was that she was too nosey by half. He stood up. It was the best way to break the conversation and he could do with getting himself a drink of water. ‘You’re right. I don’t have to answer that, and to be honest I don’t really want to talk about it. Not at the moment anyway.’

  Fletcher pulled a face. ‘Fair enough. Just out of interest, how are you finding our new DCI?’

  Carruthers thought about it for a moment. ‘I haven’t made my mind up yet. It’s hard to be objective when she’s doing the job I should still have.’

  ‘Can’t be easy.’

  ‘It isn’t. But then again, I only have myself to blame. I can see that now.’
r />   ‘Jim, can you spare me for an hour?’

  ‘What for?’

  Fletcher lowered her head. ‘I’ve needed to bring forward my counselling session. Alison Gray can fit me in but only at 3pm today.’

  ‘Are you okay?’

  Fletcher nodded but remained unsmiling. Carruthers wasn’t convinced.

  ‘You know I support you one hundred per cent, Andie. It’s difficult to give you time off in the middle of a murder investigation but I know you wouldn’t ask for it if you didn’t need it.’

  ‘It’s just for an hour.’

  ‘Go for it. I’ll clear it with McTavish. And if you want to talk, I’m here for you. Any time.’

  Fletcher fidgeted in her chair. She finally made eye contact with Alison Gray.

  The counsellor smiled before she spoke. ‘So why do you think you’re suffering from depression again?’

  Fletcher was sitting perched on the edge of her seat. She felt like bolting. It had taken nerve to make the appointment. ‘That’s why I’ve come to you. So you can tell me. It just seems to have come out of the blue.’

  A mobile rang, the noise coming from Alison Gray’s handbag. The ringtone was of a baby gurgling with laughter. Fletcher looked at Alison who had gone red and at least had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Thought it was on silent. That’s my granddaughter.’

  Fletcher swallowed the lump in her throat. Tears pricked her eyes. Even this nondescript plain-looking counsellor had bloody children. Or at least one child. And grandkids. Life just wasn’t fair.

  Alison took a long, hard look at Fletcher. ‘You’re thinking how unfair life is that I have kids and grandkids, aren’t you?’