Care to Die

by Tana Collins

  Hunter said nothing.

  Carruthers continued. ‘He blackmailed you, didn’t he? He wanted you to pimp out your own son to him in exchange for his silence. But when you refused he upped the ante. Started to demand money. He was sharing the information he had on you and the photos of Jordan with Noble. You found out. You knew he would bleed you dry, you’d never be free of him and all the while he’s threatening you with going public with the Kelly murder. You had to get rid of him and Noble. You used lorazepam to sedate both men. After all, why would your wife suspect it’s being used for anything other than your sleep problems? But what puzzles me is, how did you get the two men to Braidwood? After all, according to neighbours, Fraser rarely left his house. Did you lure them there with the promise of a good time with your son?’

  Hunter shook his head. ‘You’re disgusting.’

  ‘You managed to administer the lorazepam, somehow get them to Braidwood and then you killed them.’

  ‘I already told you. I didn’t kill them and I’ve never even heard of lorazepam.’

  ‘Don’t forget,’ said Carruthers, ‘we’ve got the remnants of the bloodied cloth. What’s the likelihood it’s going to test positive for Fraser or Noble’s blood? If that cloth was used to wipe the knife that murdered Fraser and Noble and we find either of their DNA on it – we’ve got you.’

  Hunter let out a massive sigh. He clamped his hand over his nose and mouth and rubbed his face.

  ‘Malcolm, I’d come clean now if I were you,’ said Carruthers. ‘After all, most folk will think you’ve done the world a favour by getting rid of two paedos. However, I would like to know what happened to Kelly and where he’s buried. His family have a right to know. He was just a kid. He deserves a proper burial.’

  Hunter drew in a deep breath. ‘He may have bullied me, but he never abused me. And I didn’t kill him.’

  Fletcher opened her mouth to speak but Carruthers put up a warning hand. They were finally on the verge of getting Hunter to talk. Hunter caught the movement and clammed up. Carruthers cursed.

  The solicitor carefully put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and his handkerchief in his pocket. ‘If you’re not going to charge my client, I think you’d better let him go.’

  Carruthers banged his fist down hard on the table. Even the solicitor got a shock. ‘What happened the day Tommy Kelly went missing, Malcolm? Don’t you think his family have a right to know?’

  ‘I didn’t kill him,’ he said.

  ‘Who did?’ asked Carruthers. ‘I have all day and you’re not going anywhere.’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. All I remember is being told to wait with Tommy in one of the rooms at New Braids. We knew we were going to go to the hotel. It had happened before. Tommy started to get agitated. Started to kick and scream. I’d never seen him like that before. The staff tried to calm him down but he just got worse. Suddenly I felt a hand over my mouth. I don’t remember anything else until I woke up in the car.’

  ‘Whose car? Malcolm? Was Tommy with you?’

  ‘The policeman’s car. No, I was on my own. I never saw Tommy again.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ said Carruthers. ‘You murdered Tommy Kelly. Ruiridh Fraser and Lenny McBride helped you cover it up.’

  ‘I didn’t kill him.’ Malcolm Hunter had started to shout. ‘I didn’t kill him!’

  Carruthers watched Hunter carefully, noticing a flicker pass over his eyes. ‘There’s something you’re not telling us, Malcolm. What is it? You’re not telling us the whole story.’

  ‘I don’t remember how Tommy Kelly died,’ he said eventually.

  Carruthers leant forward across the desk. ‘Don’t know or don’t remember? They’re two different things. You started off by saying you don’t know. Now you’re saying you don’t remember. Which is it?’

  As Carruthers straightened up, Hunter leant forward, elbows on table, buried his face in his hands and wept. After a few moments he sat back. Wiped his eyes and his nose with the back of his hand.

  ‘OK? I got told I’d killed him but I don’t remember. I don’t remember killing him.’

  ‘Who told you you’d killed him?’ asked Carruthers.

  In a tight voice Hunter said, ‘Lenny McBride and Ruiridh Fraser.’

  Suddenly there was a knock on the door and Brown put his head round. ‘Sorry to interrupt, boss. Phone call. You’ll want to take it.’

  Carruthers excusing himself, silently cursing, left the room and took the phone from Brown. ‘This better be good,’ he said.

  ‘It’s Gayle,’ said Brown as he handed it over.

  ‘Have you found it?’ Carruthers found he was holding his breath.

  ‘We’ve got it Jim. Knife with a serrated edge, still bloodied. Hidden in the shed under some loose floorboards.’

  ‘Good job. Get it to the lab.’

  ‘Already on its way.’

  Carruthers put the phone down and hurried back to the interview room.

  ‘For the purposes of the tape, DI Jim Carruthers is re-entering the interview room at 2000 hours. Game’s up Malcolm. The knife we think that was used to murder Ruiridh Fraser and Henry Noble’s been found at your property. What have you got to say for yourself?’

  Hunter looked up. He spoke directly to Carruthers. ‘I didn’t kill Fraser or Noble. I have no idea where that knife came from. Must have been planted.’

  Carruthers’ face broke in to a smile. He turned to Fletcher. ‘Oh he’s good, isn’t he? Knife’s been planted. Next you’ll tell me it was planted by one of our lot.’

  Hunter wiped his nose with his shirt sleeve. ‘Well it’s a bit of a coincidence I found the knife in the shed just after your first house search.’

  Carruthers turned to Fletcher, ‘What’s he talking about?’

  ‘No idea, boss. Why don’t we ask him?’

  ‘Ask my wife. I wasn’t there … One of your lot came round to search the property. Turned the place upside down. Even went in to the shed.’

  Carruthers shook his head. ‘When was this supposed to have happened?’

  ‘Couple of days ago. I never told Anne I found a knife. I’m the only one who uses the shed. Found the blood-stained knife wrapped in a cloth. I panicked. Wouldn’t you? Turns up just after the police come round. What would you do?’

  There was a knock on the door. Brown appeared with a note in his hands. He gave it to Carruthers who read it and passed it to Fletcher. Lenny McBride was on the move. Carruthers stood up and followed Brown out of the interview room. He caught up with him in the hall.

  ‘We’ll despatch someone to follow him, boss. Don’t worry,’ said Brown. Carruthers put his hand on the older man’s shoulder. Lowering his voice he said, ‘I’m following a hunch here. Can you organise for Gayle to go to McBride’s flat. Get her to take a couple of uniforms and conduct a full search.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’ll square the paperwork later and I take full responsibility.’

  ‘What are they looking for?’

  ‘Anything that might incriminate McBride in a murder.’ As Brown walked away, Carruthers shouted, ‘A recent one.’

  If Hunter wasn’t the murderer there was only one other person Carruthers could think of who had both motive and opportunity. And that man was Lenny McBride.

  Carruthers stepped to one side, and steeling himself for what was ahead, dialled Bingham’s home number. The man wasn’t happy about being disturbed, but Carruthers’ track record for not making unnecessary out-of-hours calls at least got Carruthers a minute. It was tight to explain what was in his head and the silence from the other end of the line when he had finished tied his guts into knots. ‘Judge Moran’s usually sympathetic to cases against paedophiles:s he might be worth a call.’

  Another two seconds passed, they felt like decades to Carruthers.

  ‘OK. If you get Judge Moran on-side you have my permission to search the property of Lenny McBride.’

  20

  ‘Now about this man who came to
the house—’said Carruthers.

  Hunter suddenly stood up. ‘I need the toilet.’

  Carruthers looked at Fletcher. ‘Get a PC to take him, will you?’

  ‘Yes, no problem.’

  Fletcher walked down the corridor with Hunter in silence. Glancing at him, she wanted to say something, anything, to let him know she understood, in so far as she did, but couldn’t find the words. She didn’t know what to say. And she didn’t understand. How could she? She hadn’t been through what he, or any other child who’d suffered abuse at the hands of an adult, had been through.

  He’d had a horrific childhood, a childhood that for most people was totally unimaginable. She had every sympathy with the tough start he’d had. However, although outwardly normal with a happy family life, he’d gone on to kill two, maybe three people. Calculated, planned, murdered. Perhaps four, if he had a hand in the death of Tommy Kelly, whose remains were likely lying in a make-shift grave undisturbed for nearly forty years. In a sense, they were all victims – Tommy Kelly; Paul Fraser; Malcolm Hunter. But only one had turned killer. She wondered what the truth of Tommy Kelly’s disappearance was and whether they’d ever find out.

  Approaching the gents’ she spotted a male colleague walking towards her. She started to call him over. Hunter turned to her. ‘I want to go in alone. I won’t have any privacy in prison. It will be like Braidwood. You’re living by somebody else’s rules; being told what to do, when to do it. It was the lack of privacy I couldn’t stand.’

  ‘Prison can’t govern your thoughts,’ said Fletcher, but even saying it she knew it sounded trite. She turned to Hunter. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t let you go in alone.’

  She turned to the uniform. ‘Escort him back to interview room three when he’s done, will you?’ The PC nodded. As she walked away from the gents’ she wondered what sort of future Hunter would have in prison. She knew many care leavers ended up there, failed by a system supposed to protect them. How could they survive in the real world? Given little or no responsibility in care and then suddenly out in the big world with no continuing support. How would they keep a roof over their head? Pay bills? Get a job? Perhaps for some – they needed the security of prison, couldn’t function in the outside world, had literally become institutionalised. However, others, Malcolm Hunter being one, led lives; had families; held down jobs. For him, life inside would be unbearable.

  She met Carruthers outside the interview room. He was watching Hunter’s solicitor through the glass. He turned round.

  ‘We’ve got him, Jim,’ she said.

  Carruthers shook his head. ‘I’m not so sure.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve despatched Gayle to McBride’s flat. He’s on the move.’

  ‘We don’t have a search warrant,’ said Fletcher.

  ‘I’ve squared it with Bingham and managed to get hold of Judge Moran.’

  ‘Why would you do that? Tell me you don’t believe Hunter?’

  ‘It’s something Anne Hunter said when we were at the property conducting the search, do you remember?’She said, “I can’t believe you people are back to do this again.”’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Fletcher.

  ‘I took that comment to mean I don’t believe you people are back to bother me again. What if she meant “I don’t believe you people are back to do this again” – to conduct another search.’

  ‘Surely you can’t mean—’

  ‘And then she said something about giving us a second set of keys. It didn’t make any sense at the time. Lenny McBride’s been a police officer for long enough to be able to impersonate one. And if he’s claiming to be CID he wouldn’t need a uniform.’

  ‘Oh come off it, Jim. That’s a helluva leap.’

  ‘Think about it, Andie. Just think about it for a moment. Lenny McBride kills Tommy Kelly back in 1975. Ruiridh Fraser’s present. Malcolm Hunter is drugged. When Hunter wakes up he gets told he’s killed the boy. He can’t remember but assumes he is somehow responsible for his death.’

  ‘OK, but—’

  ‘Malcolm Hunter finds nearly forty years later he’s living next to one of the men who abused him as a kid, and that man then shows interest in his teenage son. He tells Fraser to stay away from his son. Fraser holds Tommy Kelly’s death over Hunter and starts blackmailing him.’

  ‘Which means Hunter has the perfect motive for murder,’ said Fletcher.

  ‘Yes, he does, but then so does Lenny McBride.’

  ‘I’m not with you.’

  ‘Somehow Lenny McBride finds out Fraser and Noble have been getting up to their dirty little tricks and sharing obscene images of boys. Perhaps he finds out about the blackmail. Hold that thought, Andie.’ Carruthers pulled out his mobile and punched in a number. ‘Has Brown left yet? He hasn’t? Good. Get him to take John Forrest with him, will you? I want to know what McBride’s got on his computer.’

  He turned to Fletcher.

  ‘You think McBride’s killed Fraser and Noble, as well as Kelly?’ she asked.

  ‘I think it’s a definite possibility. If he killed Tommy Kelly, then he’s one desperate man. The circle’s closing in around him. Fraser and Noble’s recent activities may have just put the frighteners on him. If one of them slipped up the whole historic paedophile ring could get exposed and with it McBride’s part in Kelly’s death.’

  ‘You’re going to be in a whole heap of shit if nothing’s found at McBride’s flat.’ Fletcher suddenly glanced at her watch. ‘Christ, where’s Hunter?’ she said. A terrible thought entered her head. Carruthers and Fletcher looked at each other at the same moment. They both ran down the corridor towards the gents’. Carruthers, arriving slightly before Fletcher, wrenched open the door of the toilets. Looked around wildly. Fletcher could see the uniformed PC lying on the floor groaning. Shit, thought Fletcher. Nobody at the urinals. The door of one of the cubicles was shut. Another was open but Fletcher noticed that a sizeable piece of formica had been torn off the cubicle door. She looked at the shut door. ‘Malcolm,’ Fletcher called. But even as she called his name she saw it. A darkening pool of blood appearing from underneath the cubicle door. Then the sickening smell hit her. The metallic smell. She tried to push the door open but it was locked. Carruthers shoulder-charged it. It didn’t budge. He told Fletcher to stand back then kicked it in. The lock splintered and broke. She saw it all as if from a great distance. Hunter fully dressed sitting on the toilet, head lolling to one side, arms out in front of him, blood running from his wrists. A jagged piece of formica in his clenched right hand.

  ‘Get an ambulance,’ shouted Carruthers. The uniform, struggling to get to his feet, shouted he was on to it.

  Fletcher went over to the basin, chest heaving. Looking behind her shoulder she saw Carruthers trying to stem the bleeding. She ran to the nearest first aid point out in the corridor and yanking the box off the wall, grabbed the gauze bandage and hared back to the gents’.

  They had got to Hunter in time. He was alive and in hospital under police guard. If he’d taken the formica to his neck, it would have been a different story. Fletcher was sitting with head down. The mood was still sombre at the station when the call came in. It was the call they’d been waiting for. Lenny McBride had arrived at the nature reserve.

  Carruthers frowned as he looked at his watch. It had just gone eight. ‘He’s earlier than I expected. Perhaps he needs to do a recce. If he has buried Kelly, he’ll want to try to remember exactly where the kid’s buried. Would you remember after forty years?’ Fletcher shrugged, seemingly disinterested. All the fight gone out of her. Carruthers looked at her. ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ he said.

  ‘He was in my care.’ She looked up. Tried to smile.

  ‘If he was hell-bent on trying to kill himself, he would have found a way. Look, get yourself a strong coffee. It could be a long evening. We need to head to Braidwood.’ He glanced at Fletcher’s shaking hands. ‘I’ll drive,’ he said. Fletcher looked at him gratefully.

&n
bsp; ‘How the hell did he manage to tear off that piece of formica? Have you heard any more news from the hospital?’ she said.

  Carruthers shook his head. ‘Not yet. His wife’s with him and we’ve posted a uniformed officer there. At least he’s alive.’

  ‘OK, so now what do we do?’ asked Fletcher.

  Carruthers cut the engine. ‘Now we wait.’

  They were parked up outside the entrance to Braidwood, orders having been given not to use either car park for fear of arousing suspicion. Carruthers took his mobile out of his pocket. Listened to his messages.

  Fletcher tore her gaze away from the inky darkness back to Carruthers. ‘Any news from the hospital?’

  ‘You only asked me twenty minutes ago, Andie. Wounds are deep, especially the cut to his right wrist, but he’s still alive.’

  ‘I know he may be a killer, Jim, but a lot of folk would probably say Fraser and Noble got what they deserved.’

  Carruthers looked at her pained face. ‘I don’t doubt it, but there are others who would say the case deserved to go to trial and that what they deserved was long prison sentences. Anyway, we’re still waiting to see what Gayle finds at McBride’s flat.’

  Fletcher reached for the Thermos by her feet, unscrewed it, pouring some steaming liquid in to a cup. She blew on the strong coffee, took a tentative sip and sat cradling the cup with her hands.

  ‘One way of keeping warm,’ she said. ‘It’s a cold night tonight.’ She sat staring out through the glass of the car window, craning her neck skywards. ‘Lot of stars in the sky.’

  Suddenly Carruthers’ mobile started to trill. He answered it with a few terse words, then turned to Fletcher. ‘McBride’s started to dig.’