Beneath the Bleeding
Page 41
‘It really doesn’t matter how many times you ask, I’m not going to tell you till we get there.’
‘I hate surprises,’ he grumbled.
‘You’ll appreciate it,’ Carol said. ‘So stop whining.’
A couple of miles on, the road flattened out. On the moor, shooting blinds stuck out of the bracken and cotton grass like gun turrets on a ship. A track cut off to the right and Carol pulled up. She reached into the back seat and grabbed a backpack. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘This is it.’
Tony looked around at the blank landscape. ‘This is what?’
‘Follow me.’ She set off down the track, then turned round to wait for him. The limp was still noticeable. She wondered if it would ever disappear completely. They were talking about replacing the joint, she knew. But he wasn’t keen on the idea of more surgery. Not even at the hands of the redoubtable Mrs Chakrabarti.
‘I still can’t walk far, you know,’ he said, catching up with her.
‘We’re not going far.’ About half a mile down the track, the hill dropped away abruptly, providing a spectacular view of the valley below and, at its head, a fine castle. ‘This’ll do nicely,’ Carol said. She opened the backpack and took out a lightweight groundsheet. They sat down next to each other and she produced two pairs of binoculars, a half bottle of champagne and two glasses. She glanced at her watch. ‘Perfect timing.’
‘Are you going to tell me what is going on?’
‘Use your eyes.’ She handed him a pair of binoculars. ‘Look up the valley, towards the castle.’ As she spoke, a wisp of smoke twisted into the sky. Then there was a sudden whoosh of flame and a swathe of greenery turned scarlet and yellow and black with fire and smoke.
‘Is that what I think it is?’ Tony asked, gazing at the spectacle through his binoculars.
‘Lord Pannal’s poison garden,’ Carol said. ‘He’s been wanting to do it since the day we arrested Jack Anderson. But we needed to be sure the prosecution and the defence had done all the research they needed. They both signed off on it on Friday, so His Lordship’s finally got his way.’
‘I see now why you borrowed the Ferrari.’ Tony lowered the glasses. ‘Is Anderson still pleading guilty?’
Carol nodded, twisting the champagne cork with her thumbs. With a soft pop, it flew out and she poured it. ‘His brief has tried everything to get him to change his mind, but he’s smart enough to understand that, if he sticks with guilty, almost nothing will come out in court about the reasons why he went off the rails the way he did. And of course, since the toxicology guys found the pessary in his pocket was loaded with strychnine, it would be hard to argue that he was just an innocent bystander.’
‘No kidding. Did you ever find out how he administered the roofies?’
‘Ice cubes. One side of the tray was laced with rohypnol. The other side was clear.’ She gave a little snort of laughter. ‘The side with the drugs had a big “R” written on it in magic marker, to keep him straight.’
Tony sipped his drink. ‘I wondered at the time if he was going to cheat us.’
‘Cheat us? How?’
The cyanide capsule in the shirt button. Or whatever. I wouldn’t have been surprised.’
He stared out over the valley. ‘Anything new on Rachel Diamond?’
‘She’s still protesting her innocence. But we have witnesses to the fact that the Diamonds’ marriage was shaky. And the stuff Stacey managed to get off her office computer coupled with the handover in the gallery café is going to nail her. You did a brilliant job, figuring that out.’
He shook his head. ‘It was a very strange time for me. The pain, the drugs, the weirdness of the cases. And my mother.’ And the fact that we hardly stopped fighting from start to finish.
‘Has she been in touch?’
‘No. She probably won’t be, until the next time she wants something from me.’
Carol leaned into him. ‘Are you still thinking about trying to find out more about your father?’
He sighed. Sometimes he wished she wouldn’t pick at his scabs. He knew she did it out of concern and affection, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. When his father had been unknown, he’d been able, like Jack Anderson, to inhabit his dreams. Now there was a flesh-and-blood reality to investigate, he wasn’t sure he wanted that part of his inheritance. ‘I never thanked you properly for sorting Vanessa out,’ he said.
‘It’s all right. I know it’s complicated for you.’
He looked down at her, hair gleaming in the sun, long legs stretched out in front of her. Anyone observing them would presume them to be a longstanding couple, out for a Sunday-afternoon walk, comfortable with each other. The truth, like most things in his life, was far more intricate and less attractive. He gave a wry smile. ‘It’s just that sometimes I wish you’d never stopped me signing,’ he said.
She pulled away and looked at him, shocked and hurt. ‘You wish I’d just stood by and let your mother rip you off?’
‘No, that’s not it,’ he said, struggling to find the words. ‘We spend so much of our lives, you and me, figuring out the answers to mysteries. We’ve got so into the habit of it that we can’t leave anything alone. We’ve always got to take the wheels off and see how it works. And increasingly, I find myself wishing for a bit of inscrutability and vagueness. Being and doing instead of thinking and analyzing.’
‘You’re not talking about your father now.’
‘No,’ he said, lying back and looking at the sky. ‘I’m not.’
Acknowledgements
The music is what keeps me going through a book. It’s the unacknowledged balm, the inspiration, the rhythm and delight. I work in a room alone so I can have it as loud or as soft as I want. I can listen to the same track as many times as I feel like without anybody accusing me of trying to drive them crazy. Every book is accompanied by old friends and new discoveries. So for this book, thank you to Richard Thompson, Sigur Rós, Deacon Blue, Roddy Woomble, Mary Gauthier, Ketil Bjornstad, Elvis Costello, Rob Dougan, Michael Marra, Rab Noakes, Karine Polwart, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and the Blue Nile. Thanks too to Radio Scotland’s Iain Anderson, who has cost me a small fortune in CDs and downloads. And a particularly big hand for Sue Turnbull who came all the way from Australia to introduce me to Sigur Rós and Peter Temple.
I had two major orthopaedic surgeries between the previous book and this one, and I am very grateful to Mr David Weir and the nursing team at the Newcastle Nuffield Hospital for my magnificent new knees, and also for the inspiration for one element of this novel.
Some of the people who helped with this book have asked not to be named. I hope they don’t feel their trust was misplaced. Harry and Louise assisted me with aspects of the medical stuff and the helpful staff at the Alnwick Garden unwittingly provided food for thought.
Finally, thanks to my loyal team at Gregory and Co, at HarperCollins and at Coastal Productions, particularly Jane, Julia, Anne, Sandra and Ken.
But most of all, thanks to Kelly, who makes everything better.
About the Author
Scottish crime writer VAL MCDERMID is the author of twenty-three novels. Her books have won the Gold Dagger Award for Best Crime Novel of the Year and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, been named New York Times Notable Books, and been nominated for the Edgar Award. She lives in the north of England.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
International Praise for
Beneath the Bleeding
“McDermid’s previous novels have set the bar vertiginously high, but the latest outing for criminal profiler Tony Hill and DCI Carol Jordan has all the craft, panache, and pace that we have come to expect from this outstanding writer…. Vintage stuff: unplug the phone, lock the door, and prepare to read in a sitting.”
—The Guardian (London)
“If Rankin is the king of British crime, Val McDermid is undoubtedly the queen…. Hill and Jordan are compelling creations and thei
r encounters in Beneath the Bleeding fairly crackle. McDermid is a consummate plotter, so there are pleasing twists and turns in this first-rate story.”
—The Observer (London)
“This classy police procedural—[the] latest in a series featuring the criminal profiler Tony Hill—compels from start to finish…. A narrative of nerve-stretching immediacy…. Sharply written, suspenseful, and full of insight into the world of the criminal psychologist.”
—The Times (London)
“Tackled cleverly, with a well-concealed plot twist making a political point…. An accomplished performance…. This is Britain’s most successful series featuring a woman police detective.”
—The Sunday Times (London)
“[McDermid is] the queen of serial killers…. As a former journalist, few can scoop Val on throat-clutching narrative, but at the same time she is marvelous on the subplot details.”
—Daily Mail (London)
“Edgy and dark as always…. I love it.”
—The Express (London)
“This is a book that works on more than one level. It fulfills the criteria of a very good contemporary crime thriller in terms of excitement, topicality, and its sense of authenticity. But it delivers more than this: the complex and unpredictable relationship between Hill and Jordan lies at the heart of the series and is one of its greatest strengths. McDermid’s writing gets better and better.”
—The Spectator (London)
“Val McDermid again proves herself one of Britain’s top crime authors in Beneath the Bleeding, a sophisticated, complex, and gripping story…. It’s a joy to follow along with Hill and Jordan…. Leave yourself lots of time for this one. I finished it at 3 a.m.”
—The Globe and Mail (Toronto)
ALSO BY VAL MCDERMID
The Grave Tattoo
Stranded
The Distant Echo
Killing the Shadows
A Place of Execution
A Darker Domain
Tony Hill novels
The Torment of Others
The Last Temptation
The Wire in the Blood
The Mermaids Singing
Kate Brannigan novels
Star Struck
Blue Genes
Clean Break
Crack Down
Kick Back
Dead Beat
Lindsay Gordon novels
Hostage to Murder
Booked for Murder
Union Jack
Final Edition
Common Murder
Report for Murder
Nonfiction
A Suitable Job for a Woman
Credits
Cover design by Robin Bilardello
Cover photograph by Plainpicture Photography/Veer
Copyright
BENEATH THE BLEEDING. Copyright © 2009 by Val McDermid. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition August 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-195920-2
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Contents
Friday
List 2
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Midnight
List 1
Saturday
Sunday
Monday
Tuesday
List 3
Three months later
Acknowledgements
About the Author
Praise
Other Books by Val McDermid
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher