‘I’ve added his force’s record to ICRS. Spot the home address.’
There was a delay while Garcia located the record. She came back on the phone, ‘It’s the same one used for his bank accounts.’
‘Have you or anyone else talked to his parents? George and Corina, if I remember.’
‘I haven’t, I’m not sure about our retired Met copper though.’
‘Track the parents down and if your man can’t find them, tell him to go to the local hatch, match and dispatch. Call me as soon as you know.’
89
Miss Hetty
At St Leonard’s, Tam Watson had a message for Carter. ‘Cheryl McKinlay wants to see you.’
Dr Flowers helped him climb the stairs. ‘You’re like an old man, Leccy.’
‘It’s coming together, Lisa. We’re nearly there,’ he said. ‘I hope this isn’t more grief from Jacobson.’
The scene in McKinlay’s office was like the opening of Groundhog Day. McKinlay and Mason sitting behind the desk, and a few empty chairs on the visitor’s side. In between McKinlay and Mason was a woman of McKinlay’s age. A folder sat on the desk in front of her. She wore thick round glasses and a look that could shatter planets on sight. Somewhat confused, Dr Flowers helped Carter to a chair.
‘Sergeant Carter,’ McKinlay began. ‘We have an HR issue regarding your non-disclosure of key information, affecting your ability to do your job to the fullest extent. Miss Hetty, here,’ McKinlay indicated the woman, ‘is present to take notes and to ensure I stick to the script.’
‘Ma’am?’ Carter queried, sitting up straighter.
‘From time to time, we review various databases and lists, all in the name of governance and compliance. Operational officers can not be put in positions where they may be open to compromise. Specialist companies conduct searches on our behalf. If they find anything of concern, they notify Miss Hetty’s colleagues in Human Resources. HR then approach me to fill in any blanks. An example may be when a criminal offers an inducement in return for an officer turning a blind eye to certain illegal activities. In such circumstances, loss of trust between colleagues results in a dysfunctional team. Compromised officers have no place in my team. Is there anything you’d like to say before I continue, Sergeant?’
Carter looked at Dr Flowers, but he had to ask.
‘Were you told about this, Lisa?’
‘No – How would I know what she’s talking about?’ Dr Flowers complained. ‘Have you been taking kickbacks from criminals?’
‘No,’ he almost shouted. His worst nightmare was here, and the potential outcome would put him back to where he’d been nearly two weeks ago.
‘Is this a disciplinary meeting, ma’am?’ he asked, playing for time. ‘Has DCI Jacobson made a complaint against me?’
‘No,’ McKinlay said, flatly. ‘This meeting is about gathering facts from officers in possession of those facts. There may be mitigating circumstances to be aired. However, unless the truth comes out at the earliest opportunity, it’s difficult to determine the range of outcomes. Do you understand, Sergeant?’
‘If the facts emerged, would it affect my role in the cases I’m running?’ Carter knew the answer.
‘As SIO of the Deacon case, it would directly impact your role and would likely result in DCI Jacobson’s MIT taking over the investigation.’
‘Meaning Moore will be free to attack other women.’
‘Get it off your chest, Lachlan,’ urged McKinlay. ‘And hang the consequences.’
Even now, his instinct told him he should say nothing, that somehow, he could keep it quiet and get back to chasing Joe Moore before he killed again. He knew that wasn’t going to happen.
‘It’s all about Nathaniel,’ he said, putting his head in his hands.
‘The interdict,’ clarified McKinlay. ‘You felt you could keep it quiet until you worked something out, or until your solicitor convinced your father-in-law to lift it?’
‘Yes,’ he conceded.
‘Had you come to me earlier with this, we could have found a solution. But it’s too late. You need time to reflect, Sergeant Carter. I’ve given you too much rope. First of all, you need to fix things at home, and once that’s resolved, we’ll reconvene this panel to determine what your future is.’
‘What does that mean?’ Carter asked.
‘From this moment, Sergeant Carter,’ said DCI McKinlay without emotion, ‘you are indefinitely suspended from duty.’
90
Cracking Up
Dr Flowers drove him home in silence. Carter invited her in; it was his turn to not want to be alone. In the kitchen, the kettle boiled and instant coffee was made. She sat at the kitchen table, he propped himself against a worktop, sipping from the hot mug.
‘This is a fucking disaster,’ Carter said after a long silence. ‘I’ll take my chances with the panel, but Moore is going to get away.’
‘Others will pick it up,’ Dr Flowers replied. ‘DCI Jacobson—’
Carter threw his coffee mug hard against the far wall. The violence of its demise into smithereens caused Dr Flowers to flinch.
‘Jacobson is an arse,’ Carter shouted, venting his pent-up anger. ‘The force is full of jobsworths like her. Pen-pushers, risk reviewers, compliance officers—’
‘McKinlay will take over.’ Flowers glanced at the far wall as rivers of coffee trickled down the plasterboard like dirty blood.
‘She’s too old.’ Carter started pacing the kitchen. ‘Mason might be able to deal with Moore but look what happened in the club. He was on the floor in seconds. I’m a fool, I should have told her about the interdict.’ He punched the nearest wall and left a big dent in the plaster.
‘You know this isn’t all about the force, Leccy,’ she said. ‘You’ve just watched your wife being raped on video.’
‘Not now,’ he said tightly. ‘This isn’t the time.’
‘It is time.’ She wouldn’t let it go. ‘Deal with it, Leccy.’
‘Fuck her, and fuck you,’ he shouted. ‘She’s got what she really wanted. She’s dead. She’s checked out and abandoned me to deal with it. She planned all this, even her own rape, for fuck’s sake. Who does that, eh? Now she’s fucking with my head because she knew he’d come for me but didn’t care enough to give me warning.’
‘That’s unfair, Leccy. OK, she said it herself, she initially thought Moore was a kindred spirit, but once she realised what she’d gotten into, she bailed. She didn’t ask to be raped. But she went through with it because she felt she had no other choice. She had to protect you and her marriage.’
‘Nathaniel is not my son.’ Tears began to show in his eyes. ‘I know it, I just know it.’
‘You don’t know it,’ Dr Flowers said, calmly.
He turned away from her and faced the wall, so she couldn’t see the tears. ‘But do I really want to know? The birth certificate clearly states that I am not his father. She instructed Dunsmuir to leave that entry blank.’
‘Was that why she wanted to die?’ she asked him quietly. ‘She couldn’t deal with the consequences for her marriage if her son had a rapist for a father?’
‘I’ve always known he wasn’t mine; I just wouldn’t admit it.’
Dr Flowers heard. This was the core of his pain. It all came down to this. Nathaniel wasn’t his blood.
‘A DNA test will bring closure,’ she advised him. ‘You can’t move on until you know.’
‘And if it proves he’s not of me, then what? I couldn’t go back to work. I’d be a laughing stock. “There’s Lachlan Carter. His wife had an affair and pretended the boy was his.” What about my vocation then, Petal? I’d be better off buddying-up with Duggie McLean on the street, or maybe I’d fill Jacky Dodds’ role as the resident freak.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, it’s not your style,’ Flowers said dismissively. ‘What can I do? This interdict, how can it be lifted?’
Carter pulled himself together. Practical things, actions, not emotions, were what he
needed. ‘Tommy McGregor has to approach Dunsmuir, see if he can persuade him to see sense. Now I’m benched, I’ll see McGregor about it tomorrow.’
‘What was next on the list to catch Moore? Will Mason or Jacobson pick up the threads from ICRS?’
‘Yes, if they can. Mason and Charli Garcia could get things to move quickly.’
‘OK,’ said Dr Flowers, standing up. ‘It’s time for me to go. You won’t do anything stupid, will you?’ She gazed into his eyes, searching for deeper signs of his vulnerability. ‘I’ll stay with you tonight if you want?’
‘When have I ever done anything stupid?’
After she’d gone, Carter sat on the sofa and looked at Kelsa’s MacBook. Dr Flowers had shown him the way, and the last puzzle was easy. Zip up a dress, Joe. The zip code and address of Joe’s seafood restaurant in Las Vegas. It took him a couple of tries to get the number combo right, then he was in.
Now what? Logic told him there was something on the laptop for him. It didn’t take him long to find. A folder called ‘Joe’s Seafood’ held two videos. The titles said, ‘For Lachlan’ and ‘For Mother’.
His video was dated September 2018, and when he played it, Kelsa appeared on camera. She looked healthy – if skinny – but troubled.
‘Hello, my love,’ she said with a weak smile. ‘We made it to now. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, my password clue has been far too easy, and you should first watch the video that’s on my phone.’ She spoke the password to him.
‘After watching it, you’ll have questions. You’re a detective, a good one, and you’ll get justice for me, I know you will. What did you get yourself into and just who am I, your wife? I love the sound of those words – “I am your wife” – because I always believed in the fairy-tale ending of a wedding. Through the dark days of childhood, the fairy tale kept me sane. The magical end of the story was achievable only for adults, and, oh, how I wished to be an adult. Once I was grown up, everything that went before would be scrubbed clean. True love would establish itself forever— such childish dreams. Real life was very different, but you, my love, re-lit my magical flame.
‘I was sent to boarding school in England as a teenager. I knew why, of course, but knowing doesn’t excuse it. I was called a rebel, and rebels must be rehabilitated. The reprogramming worked, and I was allowed back into the family home in time for university. I was on track I got instructed quite a lot in those days, and regularly. After all, I couldn’t sully the family name.
‘Do you know about Hugo? Ask Daddy if you don’t, he can tell you what a controlling bastard Hugo was. Well, it takes one to know one. Hugo had high-society plans for me. As an escort. Yes, my love, he put me to work. It was back to rehab for me when I punctured his ego with one of my stilettos. I’ve often wondered what Hugo’s family really knows about him. My truth could blow their lives apart, but his children are innocent.
‘But what you really want to know is: what will happen to us now? Hugo introduced me to Joe. But Hugo was a pussycat by comparison. Joe promised me once that he’d deal with Hugo, but Hugo tumbled down Joe’s priority list after I dumped him. More rehab for me, for a similar but different reason. After I’d gone through all that, I thought the dark days were over – the memories of Joe faded into the background, and you burst into my present. Life turned good, and we got married.
‘Joe had other ideas when he found out you and I were serious, and that was when he told me things. First of all, Joe died of meningitis when he was eighteen.’
91
Leading the Witness
‘I’m sitting on our bed, explaining things, but you’re not here. You’re at work, locking up criminals and keeping people safe. You don’t yet know of Joe Moore but you soon will, unfortunately, and it’s all my fault. He has a well-honed skill of extracting information from people under the guise of conversation, and in my praise of you, I said too much. However, I have not said enough, and you are wondering how a dead man can carry out such crimes. It’s simple when you know his name is really Nathan Butler. He will come for you now, and later he’ll come for me. He has what he wants from me for now, and I genuinely have no idea what he will do next. I hope by the time you see this video, it’s not too late.
‘You accepted my silence about that weekend in March, and I often wonder what has gone through your mind since then. You’re not stupid, but because of our love, you are letting me deal with it in the only way I know. Thank you, and I apologise now for everything that may happen in our futures. It is all of my doing.
‘I have spent so much time working through the options. I’ve concluded there’s only one option that gives me control of my life. Had I taken this path a long time ago, you would not now be in this hellish predicament, but you are, and it is for me to resolve it for both of us. I’ve put plans are in motion as I speak to you now.’
Carter watched as she reached out to him. She held her hand on the screen and said nothing. He touched the screen and said nothing in reply. When she took her hand away, tears were in her eyes.
‘Father has been instrumental, and he has good reasons. He will carry out my wishes, but he is not privy to my thoughts and feelings. He will have to deal with the consequences in his own way, as will Mother, although she knows nothing. As for our unborn son – I asked the doctors for the sex – against your wishes, my darling, but by the time you watch this, you will know him. His welfare is everything, but for me, there are still many weeks until his birth. I wrestle with my demons every day, and those demons will ultimately determine my fate.’
Carter needed a drink after she’d finished speaking. The Balvenie was the ideal tonic, so he went to the local off-licence and bought another bottle. The first glass didn’t touch the sides.
Kelsa was baffling when she was alive, but in death, she was enigmatic. For every ‘why’ answered, more questions popped up. Led by Butler-once-Moore, his wife was orchestrating her moves from beyond the grave.
As if a page had turned, his phone reminded him he had an important appointment.
[2019-01-24:2117] Go to Arthur’s Seat, below the cairns on the west side. Midnight. Don’t bring your friends to the funeral, and don’t be late because Death is always on time. J.
He had time for another drink. There was another video to watch.
92
Sheep Heid
A burden had been lifted, and he actually felt lighter. Things he’d dared not consider were now thinkable. Finally, it made sense to a simple man – in a warped, twisted and knotted way. At least he now knew why she wanted to die, but he felt weak at the strength, courage and willpower it must have taken to see it through. Maybe she’d tasted death’s breath in another place and had left a promise. This time, as the end came, she knew she could make it.
With time on his hands, he attempted a login on ICRS through his own laptop, hoping the tidal wave of suspension processes hadn’t yet reached the technological far-shore of departmental usernames. It hadn’t, and he was in. He located the CCTV video taken from the bus that had killed Jacky Dodds. Charli Garcia had taken a punt on it when she put it to Justin Greig; she hadn’t actually seen it then. There were multiple camera angles. From the driver’s cab, he saw Dodds running in front of the bus and from the front door he saw the Samaritan converging on Dodds. He scrubbed both clips back and forwards until he was satisfied it was premeditated.
He dressed warmly in hiking boots, caught the late bus into town, alighted at Bernard Terrace, and headed up the hill. He’d shovelled more painkillers down his throat, chasing them with more whisky. He needed to be alert and careful. His dongles couldn’t take another ringing.
Hillwalking on Arthur’s Seat required decent fitness during daylight, but it took on an aspect of danger at night. Suicides off the Salisbury Crags were common. It took forty-five minutes of painful scrambling until the lights of the city were presented before him. Conditions on the hill were damp and slippery, winter grass with mist obscuring the cairns at the very top.
<
br /> He had prepared. He’d texted Flowers, telling her where he was going and why. If he didn’t check in by half-past midnight, she was to call Nick Mason.
‘This isn’t clever, Leccy,’ Dr Flowers had warned. ‘You’re suspended and injured. You should be in bed.’
‘I’m following your advice,’ he replied. ‘I’ll ask him what he remembers about the 1989 accident.’
‘I didn’t advise you to throw yourself headlong at a killer, in a martyr’s vengeance for the death of your parents and wife.’
He was on a slope of wild grassland on the northwest side of the hill. Once there had been a hill fort here, and in places, the ridged walls provided meagre cover. Even though the visibility was down to twenty-five metres, he’d still see Butler coming from any direction, except directly behind. Carter crouched down, hands in the pockets of his weather jacket, and took a 360-degree survey. His watch said 00.05 a.m. and the time agreed for the rendezvous was midnight. He felt something on the dampness, a breath, and turned to face it.
‘Nathan,’ Carter said in anticipation, watching a shadow eerily emerge from the mist. He was tall – over six feet – and broad-shouldered, moving with the trained step of an experienced soldier negotiating a minefield. Carter pressed his finger on the phone in his pocket, sending his planned text.
‘You took your time getting here,’ Butler replied in an accent bred in London’s East End, dipped in Scots and roasted in Arabia.
‘You could’ve finished me at Gorebridge.’
‘Better this way.’
‘I’ve known about you both for a while.’ Carter maintained his distance as Butler edged closer.
‘Not until it was in your face. You’re quite stupid, really.’
A Wife Worth Dying For Page 29