Girl Changed

by Mark Bailey

  ‘They had been clean for a number of years, and she was worried it would start over again,’ interrupted Ella.

  ‘Did you show the diary to police?’

  ‘Yes,’ answered John. ‘Scotland Yard had a look at it, but we never heard anything back.’

  Milly looked at some of the entries. It was like a child’s diary with drawings of stickmen, of hateful faces with tears and depictions of flaccid and erect penises running around chasing smaller symbols depicting what she supposed was blood dripping from them. It was full of demented and incoherent scribbling, like an epitaph or an obituary of someone evil who had died and Sibby wanted them to be remembered for all the wrong things. There was even a depiction of a woman hanging with a noose around her neck with long hair like Sibby’s. She was obviously tormented, and that wasn’t the half of it, she thought, as she stared at the images as John turned the pages.

  ‘It was the drugs,’ said Ella.

  ‘Obviously, she wasn’t on top of her game here and here,’ said John turning more pages. ‘And there are others. Then there are these.’ John flicked back to the middle of January arriving at Saturday, January 30, 2016. ‘Look at this entry, Sim Charles FB, and SCdcp fucking bastard. Also, that same day there is JCdcp by SC, with teary faces and unsmiling faces.’

  ‘What about this one?’ asked Milly looking at fJC beside what appeared to be two wheels with holes in their center.

  ‘I’m not sure Milly,’ answered John who continued. ‘Then, another in February read: JCdcp by SC. She uses these negative emoji things vividly, especially where Sim or SC is referred to,’ commented John.

  Milly looked through the diary. There were many ‘code’ messages spread incoherently with no pattern seemingly, across different dates. There were entries spitting poisonous hate at Sim and the opposite for Joe — well, she assumed SC was Sim. The ‘dcp’ popped up numerous times, but as John put it: ‘Sibby is the only one who’ll ever really know what that means.’ Milly wasn’t so sure.

  ‘What do you make of dcp, John?’

  ‘We’ve thought about it. I originally thought it could refer to someone’s name. Joe and Sim Charles’ mother’s name is Deonaid.’

  ‘Okay, that accounts for the d. What about cp?’

  ‘The only person we can think of is Constance Pratt. She’s Geoff MacDonald’s girlfriend, and Geoff MacDonald is Joe’s best mate from medical school.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Milly, ‘I met Geoff and Constance at Sibby’s funeral. But that doesn’t make a lot of sense. I don’t think she’d write JC Deonaid Constance Pratt by SC, do you? It doesn’t gel.’

  ‘Well something else I’ve thought of, and I haven’t mentioned it to Ella, is maybe JC does or did Constance Pratt?’ Milly felt like laughing; but she decided she needed to be kind, not critical — he was only trying to help.

  ‘You could be right, John. Then that would also mean that Sim was doing cp too. Also, it would explain the sexual theme in some of Sibby’s creations.’ Milly didn’t want to call them ramblings; it reinforced the drug-use theme.

  ‘It’s funny you say that Milly, because I remember that diary date of Saturday, January 30 2016, like it was yesterday. I arrived at Sibby and Joe’s flat on the tail end of a rather nasty conversation. It was quite a miserable day, and when I parked, I noticed the door open, swinging on its hinges. It had been opened in a hurry, or there had been a forceful attempt to shut it, and it popped open again. I told this to your detective friends when they interviewed Ella and me in London. I could hear Sim Charles threatening Sibby when he told her to shut her fucking mouth or he would shut it for her … permanently. I walked in, and he brushed past me like I wasn’t even there.’

  ‘Why do you think the date coinciding with that entry is strange?’

  ‘Sim could have told Sibby he and Joe were both doing cp when Sibby threatened to tell police about Sim’s operation.’

  ‘Why would Sim do that?’

  ‘Well, I was thinking, Sibby would have made Joe out to be the innocent one, in this case, copping all the blame with his arrest and police custody. Sim might have been casting another image of Joe as a philanderer with a secret life … anyway, it’s just a theory.’

  A rather naïve theory thought Milly. ‘Are you sure it was January 30, John?’

  ‘Certainly, Milly. It was definitely January 30, just as those photos are definitely Daggy Kerford.’ John was adamant.

  They talked until late. Milly was tired. ‘I’ve booked a visit with Joe at 10:30 a.m. Wednesday morning at Barlinnie Prison. Do either of you want to come with me?’

  ‘Ella won’t go, and I visited last month, and besides, I’m playing golf. I try not to go too often; they only get two hours’ visitation per month. I’ll come if you want, Milly.’

  ‘No, I’m happy to visit on my own.’ She kissed and hugged them both goodnight and headed off to bed with Sibby’s diary.

  By the time, she’d walked to Sibby’s room Milly decided there was something in the diary ramblings. Was Sibby trying to tell them something? She didn’t think that Joe was doing Constance Pratt, though — nor Sim for that matter. She looked forward to Wednesday.

  Chapter 17.

  Milly drove to Glasgow Wednesday morning. She was in a quandary. Coincidences were rife in this case; if you believed they were coincidences.

  For the Russells to have recognized Kerford, there had to be a connection. She remembered reading in Sibby’s diary on Monday night that Sim Charles had been a welder in Aberdeen, and yesterday John had reminded her as they drank coffee at Henry’s Coffee Lounge that Cailin Stewart was a keen deer shooter. Then there was piggy in the middle Daggy Kerford — a deer shooter and a welder, who had worked in Aberdeen too. Detracting from that was the police view that Kerford worked with computers. Did he have a twin brother, wondered Milly? More likely a career change, she decided. Another set of identical twins would be too big a coincidence, and John would have mentioned if Kerford had a twin.

  She didn’t get stuck on the period between Joe’s imprisonment and Sibby’s death with John and Ella. They didn’t know of her interest; she’d just discovered it herself. She could see the connection between Sim, Kerford, and Cailin Stewart. As for John, he was unsure — he thought there was more; that’s why he’d searched through Sibby’s diary. Then there was the Australian connection, with Sim and the Boyds; a criminal union if ever there was one, enhanced by their snitch Simone Kelly, whom Dannii had been unwittingly feeding with information. Dannii had 20/20 vision but couldn’t see things sitting in front of her, in plain view. Milly considered her position. She needed help; she needed someone else — she needed Joe. She decided to risk everything and talk with him, but she didn’t know how much time she had. She drove into the visitors’ car park at Barlinnie prison.

  Milly entered through the main door of the prison at 9.55 a.m. The rules required that visitors be fifteen minutes early and she had arrived thirty-five minutes before her scheduled visit. She proceeded to the front desk and presented her passport as I.D. She was given a tap down for any weapons or contraband and handed her seat allocation for the visits room. Milly walked through to the waiting area. She went to the toilet, twice, as she waited; she was nervous. Her appointment time arrived, and she was led upstairs. She sat at a table with two seats on her side and one opposite for Joe. Then they brought Joe in, and Milly’s heart jumped as he walked to the table, grinning from ear to ear.

  ‘Good morning, Dr. McTaggart.’ They kissed quickly; they didn’t have much time. Milly could smell prison on him in his body odor and the smell of his clothes. He smelt stale and stagnant. There was no shampoo smell, no deodorant or after-shave. Joe’s was a smell of neglect, fostered by boredom, fleetingly refreshed by his grin. He sat opposite Milly, folding his hands in front of him. He was beautiful.

  ‘How are you, Joe?’

  ‘Very busy at the moment. I’m lucky to get the time to talk with you.’ They both laughed, but not much. It was sadder than it was funny.<
br />
  ‘How long have we got?’

  ‘Twenty-eight minutes,’ answered Joe as he looked up at the visits room clock.

  The small talk over, Milly introduced the reason for her visit.

  ‘Okay, mate, I need to tell you a few things, and I’m going to confide in you. I just hope I can trust you, Joe.’

  ‘Sure, Milly, fire away.’

  ‘Okay. John and Ella found a diary … Sibby’s dairy. Entries started just before your arrest, so late November to early December 2015. She wrote in it through to June 2016 and then stopped. It was a blue girly-type academic diary and the months ran along the dates July 2015 to June 2016, so June 30 was the final page. They haven’t found another diary yet; they’re still looking. There may not be one, so we may never know anything about the months July through to October.

  ‘What was in it, Milly?’

  ‘She rambled on quite a bit. One noticeable thing was, as much as she indicated she adored you, she hated your brother Sim.’

  ‘I guess she hated Sim because, as she saw it, it was his fault I’m in here.’

  ‘No, Joe, there’s more to it than that. She wrote things like SCdcp and JCdcp, and she had sad faces and teary faces, and she called Sim a fucking bastard.’

  ‘I’ve got no idea what she meant by any of that. I would just assume she was blaming Sim for all this,’ answered Joe again, as he cast his eyes around the room and back to the jail complex.

  ‘Well, John thought that SCdcp might have been name initials. Originally, he thought SC was Sim Charles, “d” stood for your mom Deonaid and “cp” for Constance Pratt. Then when I looked at it, and we couldn’t make that work, he switched to plan B. He suggested … well …’

  ‘Go on, Milly.’

  ‘Well, he suggested SCdcp and JCdcp meant you and Sim were doing Constance Pratt.’

  ‘Doing Constance Pratt?’

  Milly smiled. ‘Yeah, you know doin’ her, bonking her, fucking her.’ Milly knew it sounded totally ridiculous.

  Joe burst out laughing. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Well, that was his take on it,’ answered Milly, laying the blame squarely at John’s feet.

  ‘What’s your take then?’

  ‘I haven’t got one, Joe. It’s one of the reasons I’m here.’

  ‘Alright then, I’ll set you straight. Connie is a beautiful girl, and she’s a lesbian, Milly, who happens to have a boyfriend. My best mate, Geoff MacDonald, and Connie have been an item for years. They have a great arrangement with Connie taking in women as she pleases as long as she takes Geoff along too. Connie would be more interested in you than she would in Sim or me. She loved Sibby, but Sibby, being as naïve and innocent as she was, never picked up on it.’

  There was a short silence. That transient moment in a conversation between two people when one stops speaking before another starts. So, Milly pondered — a cursory thought — a sexual liaison with her, Connie and Joe; that would be ...

  ‘So …?’

  ‘Shit, he got that wrong then didn’t he.’ She returned to the present.

  ‘Aye, we all get things wrong, Milly.’

  ‘Look, Joe, I see things in people. I’ve mainly trained in the psychology of children and adolescents, but like I tell anyone who asks … children grow up … adults are just big kids. There’s more to this, in my opinion. Is there anything else that could make Sibby hate Sim more than just your going to jail?’

  ‘I don’t know; I can’t think of anything … not really.’

  ‘Where did she first meet Sim … you know … first impressions and all that?’

  ‘Well, Sibby and I were in Stonehaven, up north on a dirty weekend, when she first met with Sim. Apparently, he looked at her in a strange way and frightened her. My brother isn’t one to be trifled with. I suppose you’ve heard of blunt force trauma?’

  ‘I’m familiar with it, Joe.’

  ‘Well, he’s known as Blunt Force Charles. He’s a thug, and he’s dangerous. It’s been said that if you want a man to remember you, give him something to look at when he cleans his teeth each morning as he starts his day and again each evening as he goes to bed. That bathroom mirror can tell a tale, Milly.’

  ‘I’m not sure what you mean, Joe.’

  ‘Do him some damage, especially to his face, and when he looks in the mirror, he’ll … well … remember you. Sim had another take on it. Bash him so he can’t get to the bathroom, and if he does, make sure it’s the bathroom in a hospital. He’ll never forget you then.’

  ‘Alright, Joe, I get it,’ said Milly smiling. ‘So, who do you blame for all this then?’

  ‘What, for me being in prison?’ Milly nodded.

  ‘I blame me, Milly.’ They looked at each other. Milly had so much she wanted to discuss, but as they sat staring at each other, she couldn’t think of anything to say. Perhaps they had plenty of time after all. Joe looked at the clock and back at Milly.

  ‘I had a visit a month ago from my father.’

  ‘Really?’ Milly encouraged softly. Was the mountain coming to Muhammed she wondered?

  A tear ran down his face as he touched her hand.

  She felt a throb of passion down below and shifted uncomfortably in her seat. ‘Your father, Joe?’

  He returned to the moment and coughed as he drew his hand away, swatting at the tear on his cheek like it was a fly.

  ‘Gus wrote me a letter asking to see me. He had something he needed to tell me, so I agreed to see him. I don’t know if you’ve heard of my brother Niall. He was killed in a car accident while Sim was driving in 2008.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard about it. I’m sorry.’

  ‘When the coroner’s report came back after Niall’s death it showed traces of methamphetamine in his system; he’d been using speed.’

  ‘Did they test Sim?’

  ‘Aye, he was clean. They breath tested him too, and he was cleared of any wrongdoing. The issue of drugs didn’t come up until the coroner’s hearing. Gus kept it quiet; he was the only one from the family to attend the hearing. He never told Mom or me, and I don’t know if he said anything to Sim. He told me a month ago he didn’t wish to tarnish Niall’s reputation as Mommy’s boy. It wouldn’t change anything now he was dead.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Aye, but he always blamed Sim for Niall’s death. Mom and I could never understand why … except that he was driving the car. It would be fair to assume that the fact Niall was pinging on speed probably had nothing to do with his death. Personally, I believed Sim would only be culpable if he had taken Niall for a drive, so he could take the speed. That’s apart from whether he supplied it or not, which could never be proved. But there’s something else …’

  ‘Something else?’

  ‘Aye, Milly, the circumstances of the accident.’

  ‘What actually happened?’

  ‘They were T-boned at an intersection where Sim had the right of way, and Niall wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. The car drove into the passenger side front door. Accident investigators said Niall’s head was leaning against the door, so it took the brunt of the accident … straight to the side of his head. Now was that because he had taken drugs? Was he laughing uncontrollably at something? The fact that he wasn’t wearing a seatbelt enabled him to slide his head and body down, so was that Sim’s fault? I hardly think he was asleep, the speed would see to that, but they noted the head position as abnormal. Gus said the coroner questioned it and asked Sim, who claimed he couldn’t remember. He was knocked about in the accident too and spent some time in hospital.’

  ‘Right. It makes some sense then.’

  ‘Niall died at the scene some ten minutes after the accident; he never regained consciousness. Then the subject of the accident came up sometime later when Sim and Gus had both been drinking after Gus made a smart-arse comment. That’s when he found out about Blunt Force Charles. Dad’s no slouch himself, but he got a good look in the bathroom mirror at Ninewells Hospital,’ said Joe, smiling gr
imly. ‘He was a mess, and by the way, he showed me a copy of the coroner’s report with the blood test when we talked here at this very table. The fight was Dad’s fault, at least that’s how Mom saw it, but of course, we didn’t know the whole story. He wants to get back with Mom.’

  ‘What do you think, Joe?’

  ‘To begin with, I thought that if Niall had drugs in his system, then it was down to Niall. Dad put it down to Sim, though; he thinks Sim supplied Niall with speed. Also, as Sim was driving, he should have insisted Niall wore a seatbelt.’

  ‘That’s fair enough. Back in Aussie, the driver is charged if passengers aren’t wearing a seatbelt.’

  ‘Well, all the evidence is circumstantial, isn’t it? Sim may have been distracted trying to get Niall to belt up, and that’s why the accident happened … or why he couldn’t avoid it … but it’s irrelevant; especially when the driver can’t remember anything. So later, when Gus knew for sure that Sim was dealing drugs, he rang one of those “Dob in a Dealer” lines and the rest, as they say, is history. He claims he didn’t know I was involved, but from then I never had a chance. The authorities were watching Sim and were waiting to pick me up. Only trouble is they couldn’t pin anything on Sim because I wouldn’t cooperate with them. It was the last of Sim’s drugs and Sim told me he wanted out, to get back to a normal life with a normal job.’

  I very much doubt that, thought Milly. ‘Do you blame Sim now, Joe?’

  ‘For Niall’s death?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I really don’t know what to think anymore. The coroner cleared him of any blame. In fact, the coroner said that, short of not being there, there was nothing Sim could have done to avoid the accident. I’m wondering, though, how well I know my brother.’ Joe looked at the clock. ‘There’s not much time left.’

  ‘You’ve got five minutes, Joe,’ confirmed one of the attendants.

  Milly looked at Joe and decided she could trust him; she needed to.

  ‘Did you know Sim threatened Sibby?’