by T F Muir
Gilchrist explained his concerns over Katie’s mother not being truthful, but avoiding mention of possible sexual encounters. Although he sensed a shift in McVicar’s attitude, by the end of the call he was left in no doubt that McVicar expected full reports on his desk by the end of the day – per CS Greaves.
Jessie said, ‘Does he think we’ve nothing better to do than put pen to paper?’
‘Call Mhairi,’ Gilchrist said, ‘and have her make a start on my report.’
His phone rang – ID Becky.
‘You’d better take that,’ Jessie said, then proceeded to call Mhairi.
Gilchrist lifted his phone. ‘Yes, Becky, how are you?’
‘Just had the blood results back on Sammie Bell,’ she said, ‘and he’s got enough crack cocaine in his system to floor a horse.’
‘Is that what killed him?’
‘He was alive when they put a hammer to his head,’ she said. ‘But I doubt he would have survived the overdose.’
Even though this gave credit to his signature theory, he bounced another question off her. ‘So if the killer knew that Bell had already overdosed, why hammer his head at all?’
‘That’s beyond my medical remit.’
‘And what about DNA?’
‘It’s a match. It’s Sammie Bell. I’ll get back to you if I find anything untoward.’
The call died before Gilchrist could tell Cooper about his mobile not working last night. He replaced the phone to the car’s system and eyed the road ahead. It seemed that his relationship with Cooper – maybe best to call it an affair – was on its terminal spiral. The tinny sound of a woman’s voice to his side halted his thoughts, as Jessie mumbled repeated agreement.
The call ended abruptly with Jessie saying, ‘No. Leave it with me. I’ll tell him.’
Gilchrist glanced at his speed – seventy-five. Ahead, an articulated lorry indicated to shift into the overtaking lane. ‘You know, these things never brake,’ he said. ‘They just pull out with no thought to anyone else on the road.’ He waited for Jessie to comment, but after thirty seconds of silence, said, ‘Anything you have to tell me?’
She let out a defeated sigh. ‘Mhairi heard back from Baxter.’
‘About?’
‘Liam’s report.’
The list of names on Bell’s laptop. This could be their break-through. But Jessie’s tone was all wrong. Something didn’t fit. ‘So what’s Liam found?’
‘You’re not going to like it.’
Even as Jessie’s words wormed through his mind, his logic was already working out the answer, telling him what he didn’t want to hear. ‘Oh for fuck sake, don’t tell me . . . ’
‘Afraid so.’
His fingers crushed the steering wheel. ‘Jack,’ he whispered.
‘Got it in one.’
CHAPTER 16
Gilchrist jumped to his feet and rushed into the water, pulled Jack free of the sucking waves. He picked him up, pressed him to his chest, felt his little body shivering with cold and trembling with sobs. I’ve got you, he said. You’re okay. By the time he reached their beach-towelled spot, Jack’s sobbing had subsided to little more than tremor-jerking sniffling. He towelled his son’s skinny body dry, white and goose-pimpled, lips already turning blue from the cold. Do you want to go home? Jack shook his head, broke free from his grip, and ran back into the sea, only to be bowled over again.
‘It’s like he never learns,’ Gilchrist pleaded. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, he told me he was through with drugs. And like a fucking idiot, I believed him.’ He gripped the steering wheel, felt white-hot anger flood his system, its fire like talons tearing at his guts. He could sink to his knees and scream to the skies. He could shake Jack’s scrawny shoulders until that thick-nutted head of his bounced off. He could choke the living shit out of—
‘Get him on the phone,’ he snarled.
‘No can do, Andy. You’re a DCI, and Jack’s father. You can’t be seen to be—’
‘Get him on the fucking phone, right now.’
‘You’re not thinking straight.’
Gilchrist gritted his teeth. Of course he wasn’t thinking straight. How the hell could he when boiling blood was pumping through his brain? He took several deep breaths, tried to settle his thudding heart. But it was like trying to calm a broiling sea. Jesus Christ, Jack, what have you been up to? And Sammie Bell, a registered sex offender, for fuck’s sake.
He glanced at Jessie, but he was getting no help there.
‘Call him up on your mobile,’ he said, struggling to keep his tone level. ‘Put it on speaker. Tell Jack you’re alone. Then ask him how in the name of fuck he knows Sammie Bell. Jesus fucking Christ.’
‘Okay, okay, settle down before you give yourself a heart attack. But I’m going to talk to Baxter first, see how far he’s taken this. And it’s no use glaring at me like that. I have to do that. You just keep your eyes on the road, and let me do the talking. All right?’
Gilchrist stared at the road ahead, seeing everything, but taking in nothing. He pressed his foot on the accelerator, pulled out to overtake, and had to jerk back in as a Jaguar blasted past with its horn blaring.
‘Want me to drive?’ Jessie said.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Eyes on road.’
‘Everything on speaker, then.’
‘As long as you don’t say a word. And I mean it, Andy.’
He nodded, pressed his head back against the headrest, and dropped his speed to the safer side of seventy. He said nothing while Jessie got through to Baxter.
‘Been talking to Mhairi,’ she said, ‘and she tells me you’ve found Jack Gilchrist’s name and number on Sammie Bell’s computer.’
‘I know, Jessie. The big man’s going to go ape-shit. Can you talk?’
‘I’m in my car, so I really shouldn’t. But go ahead. Has anyone spoken to Jack yet?’
‘Hang on a sec until I get out of here.’ A moment of background rustling, then, ‘No way. I’m not tackling that until I get clearance from higher up.’
‘That’s why I’m calling. I’m thinking maybe I could make that first call, see if I can glean something from him. It has to be a mistake, I’m sure of it. I’ll keep you in the loop, of course. How does that sound?’
Another pause, then, ‘Rather you than me. All I was asked to do was dig into Bell’s computer.’
Gilchrist snapped his head to the side, and Jessie raised her hand to silence him.
‘Okay, give me the number,’ she said, and when she killed the call held her mobile up to Gilchrist. ‘Is that Jack’s?’
Gilchrist clenched his jaw, and nodded.
‘Okay. Here goes. And stay quiet.’
Gilchrist eased his speed down a touch as he listened to the melodic beeping of Jessie dialling on speaker. He indicated left, braked hard, and pulled on to the hard shoulder. By the time Jack answered, he’d stopped the car, but kept the engine idling.
‘Hello?’
Even from that one word, Gilchrist could tell his son was high on drugs.
‘Jack, it’s Jessie. You okay?’
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Jessie. Sure. I was having a nap. Late night last night. Working on my latest and greatest.’ A cough, then, ‘So, this is a surprise. Why’re you calling? Oh, no, don’t tell me.’ Wide awake now. ‘Is the old man okay?’
‘The old man’s fine, Jack.’
‘Jeez-oh, Jessie. For a moment there I thought you were going to tell me something had happened to him.’
‘No, no, he’s fine, Jack. He’s fine.’
‘That’s good to hear. But I worry about him sometimes. He works too hard, but he won’t listen to me. I keep telling him it’s time to slow down, man, take it easy. I mean, it’s not like the old man needs the money. He’s done his thirty years, hasn’t he?’ Another throaty cough. ‘He’ll get a full pension. Besides, I can help him out now my stuff’s beginning to sell.’ He coughed again. ‘So what’s the occasion?’
‘Have you heard a
nything from Sammie Bell?’
‘Who?’
‘Sammie Bell.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘You don’t know him?’
‘Never heard of him.’
Gilchrist groaned, and received an angry glare from Jessie.
‘You sure, Jack? Because he seems to know you.’
A sniff, then, ‘Nope. But I’m pretty much hopeless with names. So who is he?’
‘You mean, who was he?. He’s dead.’
‘Yeah?’
‘He was murdered.’
‘Okay.’ Wary now, the word drawn out. ‘So what’s this to do with me?’
‘I was hoping you might tell me,’ Jessie said.
Jack chuckled. ‘You sound just like the old man. No question’s ever straightforward; always wrapped around something else, like he’s trying to trip you up. Why don’t you just come straight out and ask me?’
Jessie cocked her head. Gilchrist heard it too.
‘Is someone with you, Jack?’
‘Yeah. Tess. Say hi to Jessie, Tess.’
‘Hi Jessie.’ A woman’s voice; tired, drunk, or just drugged, Gilchrist could no longer tell. He slashed his hand under his throat in an end-the-call gesture.
‘Listen, Jack,’ Jessie said, ‘it’s good to hear that you don’t know Sammie Bell, but I’ve got to tick all the boxes. So someone from the Office’ll come to your house and take a statement from you. They’ll also ask you some questions about Sammie Bell—’
‘Sure, send them along. I don’t know a Sammie Bell, so that’s fine with me. Heh, I can come along to the Station if you’d like, stick my head in and say hello to the old man, maybe squeeze a pint or two out of him.’ He chuckled, coughed, then said, ‘I can be there in thirty minutes if you’d like.’
‘Let me get back to you on that,’ Jessie said. ‘Someone’ll call to set it up.’
‘Sure, Jessie. Say hi to the old man for me.’
Jessie disconnected, slapped her phone on to her thigh. ‘What do you think?’
Gilchrist eyed her mobile, Jack’s voice reverberating in his mind. ‘I remember when Jack was eleven,’ he said, ‘and twenty quid went missing from Gail’s housekeeping jar. She turned on him, and accused him of stealing it. But he denied it so convincingly that I believed him. It didn’t convince his mum, though, and she continued to hound him until a twenty-quid note magically reappeared in the housekeeping jar, and family peace was re-established. I’d always wondered if Gail had simply miscounted, believing she had twenty quid more in the jar to begin with, but it wasn’t until years later during one of our drunken reunions in Glasgow that Jack confessed to me that he’d stolen the money.’
‘But he’d returned it?’
Gilchrist shook his head. ‘No, that was me. I slipped the twenty quid into the jar, just to keep the peace.’
Jessie frowned. ‘And the moral of that tale is . . .?’
‘If he has to, Jack can lie to his back teeth with the best of them. And when it comes to drugs, I’ve never fully believed him.’
‘And you think he lied on the phone?’
‘With Jack, I never know for sure. What I do know is, that his paintings are beginning to sell, and he now has more money than he’s ever had. So, what’s he doing with it?’
Jessie held his gaze long enough for him to feel a need to turn away. ‘You could be wrong,’ she said.
Gilchrist raised an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘In what way?’
‘Just because Jack’s name and phone number’s on Bell’s computer, it doesn’t mean he’s taking drugs—’
‘Correct. He could be distributing them.’
‘Why do you always see the negative in Jack?’
Jessie’s words hit him like a slap to the face. Was he now so steeped in the day-to-day criminality of life that he no longer saw honesty in people? Was it now beyond him to trust his son, ask a question and take his answer as the truth? Should he not be giving him the benefit of every doubt instead of—
‘Why don’t you let me chase Baxter on this one?’ she said, just as his mobile beeped with an incoming message from Jackie.
He read it once, had to read it again to make sense of it.
Then he turned to Jessie. ‘Listen to this from Jackie. Rachel Novo’s phone records list calls from and to a Tesco mobile number contracted in the name of . . . ’ He looked at Jessie. ‘Go on, have a guess.’
‘Santa Claus.’
‘Try Katarina Davis.’
Jessie mouthed a What the fuck?
Gilchrist helped her out with, ‘It’s Andrea’s other mobile. The one she used before she reported Katie’s disappearance to the FCC yesterday. That’s why no other numbers showed up on her records. She’s taken it out in her daughter’s name.’
Jessie’s eyes hardened. ‘Does Jackie have details of the times of calls?’
Gilchrist read on. ‘Full records in office, but a call lasting twenty-two minutes and ten seconds was made to Novo on Monday the seventeenth of April, logged in at 06.42.’
‘Hah,’ Jessie slapped her hand on the dashboard. ‘I knew it. I tell you, that bitch has got some explaining to do. Let’s get her.’
Gilchrist slipped into gear. ‘You’re forgetting McVicar’s call.’
‘Bloody hell, tell me you’re kidding.’
‘Reports first,’ he said as he floored the pedal, taking the car to sixty in a matter of seconds then easing into the inside lane. Too many questions, not enough answers. It felt as if his head was spinning, that no one ever spoke the truth, that life was nothing more than an infinite stream of lies stretching out ahead of him.
Who to believe? Who to trust?
These were the basic questions.
Experience had taught him to trust his gut instinct, and his gut was telling him that the answer to Katie’s abduction lay right before him – in the home of Andrea Davis, and the call to her twin sister, Rachel.
‘Get Rachel back on the phone,’ he said to Jessie.
He eyed the road ahead, and listened to the echo of her call being answered, the hard rush of Jessie’s voice as she introduced herself, then asked to speak to Ms Rachel Novo.
Lies, lies, and more lies.
As a Detective Chief Inspector, Gilchrist faced lies on a daily professional basis. But his private life seemed overrun with lies, too. Cooper lying about their relationship, about how she felt for him, when all along he had only been someone with whom she could salve the emotional pain of her marital failings.
It seemed as if there was never an honest answer to any question.
But he prayed he was wrong about one.
He prayed that Jack was telling the truth.
If not, there really was nothing he could do to help his son.
CHAPTER 17
Novo’s voice cracked from the speaker like a pick breaking ice. ‘What do you want?’
‘When did you last talk to your twin sister?’ Jessie asked.
A pause, then, ‘So you’ve spoken with the mighty Dougal.’
‘We have, but strangely he failed to mention that you and Andrea were twins.’
‘So who told you?’ she snapped back.
‘Would you like me to repeat the question?’
‘You have a short memory,’ Novo said. ‘My family and I no longer communicate. Now, if you’ve no other questions, I’ll get back to—’
‘Before you do,’ Gilchrist said, holding up his hand to keep Jessie out of it, ‘I would remind you that we’re investigating the abduction of a young child, your niece you allegedly never see, and that any false or misleading information you provide might be construed as obstructing the course of justice and could—’
‘I’ll get my solicitor to call you back.’
‘When he does, make sure you let him know of your twenty-minute phone call with your twin sister, Andrea, yesterday morning.’
Jessie eyed the speaker phone, as if willing the next lie to ignite the dashboard.
When it seemed as if Nov
o was silenced, Gilchrist said, ‘We can continue to have a sensible conversation by phone, or we can arrange for someone from the Met to take you to your nearest station and hold you there until I fly down tomorrow.’
‘I don’t think you can do that,’ she blurted.
‘Believe me, I can. But if I have to fly down to arrest you in person, it won’t bode well for police relations, if you get my meaning.’
‘I’m inclined just to let you do that,’ she said, ‘but I really don’t have the time to waste.’ She let out a sigh of exasperation, and said, ‘What do you want?’
‘You can start by telling me when you last spoke to your twin sister.’
‘I’m sure you already know this, but she called me yesterday morning.’
‘Why?’
‘Katarina was missing,’ she snapped. ‘Isn’t that what this is all about?’
‘But why did she phone you?’
‘She trusts me.’
‘And she’s on for twenty minutes?’ Jessie sounded incredulous.
‘She was crying for most of the call. I thought she’d been smoking dope again.’
‘So why didn’t you hang up?’ Jessie asked.
‘I wanted to make sure she called the police.’
Gilchrist said, ‘You could have done that for her.’
‘Let me repeat – my family and I don’t talk.’
‘Except that you do,’ he said, ‘when Andrea calls.’
‘That’s different.’
‘In what way?’
‘She . . . my sister needs serious psychological help. She’s not a well person. She has . . . she has mental health issues, and no one to help her.’
‘By no one, you mean close family?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re her close family.’
‘And I keep telling you that we don’t communicate.’
Gilchrist held up his hand, and Jessie clamped her mouth shut. ‘We seem to be going round in circles,’ he said. ‘You say you don’t talk to your family, yet you talk to your sister.’ A pause, then, ‘What am I missing?’
‘I don’t talk to them. But sometimes Andrea calls to talk to me.’
‘So, before yesterday, when did Andrea last talk to you?’ He waited as silence filled the line, then added, ‘You should be careful how you answer, as we’ll have it verified from phone records.’