‘Yes, I’m glad someone did that. Anyway, I better get on.’
‘Of course. But Kerri, if you ever want to talk about anything, anything at all, then I’m here.’
Wells hesitated, questions and answers dying on her lips.
‘I won’t, but thanks anyway.’
CHAPTER 64
The pale granite slab in front of them was topped with snow turned to frost, looking like a heavy grey coat with a dusting of winter on its shoulders. It stood not far from the trees, giving them some respite from the northerly wind that scudded across the cemetery lawn at Cardonald and reddened their cheeks.
Only one of the three women had ever met Vonnie Murdoch but they all felt like they had.
It was why they were there. A brief and silent vigil, a hello and a goodbye, an apology of sorts and a hope they’d made some of it right.
Narey, Lainey and Leah were uneasy sharing their space with each other, swamped with enough mixed emotions not to have room for anyone else’s. They were dressed up in barbed positives – redemption, revenge and relief – but regret was still under their feet.
They shuffled from foot to foot, sidestepping the frost and their own shame at being happy it had ended as it did. It was called survivor guilt but knowing that didn’t make it magically disappear.
As the aftermath of Broome’s admissions played out, all the pieces fell as they should. That didn’t bring anyone back, didn’t turn back time or heal any wounds, but it made the unbearable somehow less so.
Iain Petrie had confessed to murdering his wife and burying her in the woods. His self-righteous anger and denial had lasted only as long as it took him to be shown Broome’s photographs.
Addison and Narey had watched the lie crumble on his face, seeing him go from indignant to broken in an instant. A man who’d told his story so often and for so long that he almost believed it himself, until confronted with the brutal truth of hard evidence.
For eight years, he’d resented others who’d suspected that same truth. He’d squirmed on the gossiping tongues of neighbours and relatives, of strangers who’d known him only as the man who’d probably killed his wife. When the chance came to get out from under the pitchforks of suspicion, he’d grabbed at it.
He thought fate had delivered him a way out, the perfect fall guy in the shape of Broome. Petrie sent the coordinates of the woods near Caldermill to Winter and let him do the work from there. He believed it was time for Julie to rise from her shallow grave and for the man who’d photographed her to take the blame for her murder. It wasn’t just convenient in Petrie’s mind, it was right. Broome had violated her rights, violated his too, stalked his wife like a rapist and deserved everything he had coming to him.
The only problem for Petrie was that none of it worked out the way he’d planned.
Tony had got his front page. Three of them in fact. Big, ripe, juicy exclusives that were picked up by television and the nationals. First Petrie’s arrest, then Broome’s, followed finally by a follow-up when other women came forward to name Broome as their attacker.
Archie Cameron was so pleased with Winter’s work that he nearly told him. Together, they wrung as much ink from each story as the contempt of court laws would allow. Broome’s army of internet trolls slowly deserted him as the sheer scale and savagery of his assaults were laid bare.
Danny’s troll hunting paid off. Davie Meiklejohn, Ryan Cochrane and Jason Burns all got jail sentences. There were hundreds, probably thousands more who deserved the same fate but three of them were a start. The damage couldn’t be undone, either to Rachel or to Leah, but a message was sent to those who cowered and crowed behind their laptops that they could be found and dragged out into the light.
‘Do you believe in evil?’
It was Lainey who broke the silence that held court above Vonnie Murdoch’s grave. Her question caught Leah by surprise, her eyes widening that Lainey could even ask.
‘Yes! Don’t you? If Broome isn’t evil then I don’t know what it means. Don’t you think we were both victims of evil?’
Lainey drew a cigarette from the packet that she slipped from somewhere inside her coat. She cupped her hands around her mouth, protecting the flame of her lighter from the wind, then drawing deep on it before answering.
‘What he did was wicked, no doubt about that. What he did to me, you, Vonnie and all the others. Is he evil though? I’m not sure I’d let him off that easily. The idea that he was born bad gives him an out, like he couldn’t help his nature. Born that way? I don’t think so.’
She knelt by the headstone, cigarette in her mouth, and traced a finger around the shape of Vonnie’s name.
‘William Broome chose to be a rapist. He chose to photograph women he was attracted to, then attack and rape them. If there really is a hell then I want him to rot in it for eternity but I’m not letting him off with an excuse. He is what he is because he wanted to be.’
Leah looked wary, almost frightened by the ferocity in Lainey’s voice. ‘What do you think, Rachel?’
Narey was reading the lines on Vonnie’s headstone and didn’t shift her gaze from them.
‘I don’t think it matters,’ she answered at last. ‘Evil, not evil, it’s all a bit biblical and I’m not in the philosophy business. All that matters is what they do, not why. I’ll let someone else worry about whether it makes them evil or whether evil exists. If they break the law, it’s my job to catch them, not analyse them.’
Both women looked at her, not entirely convinced she meant it and both thinking she agreed with them.
Lainey and Leah went right as they came out of the cemetery gates, Narey turned left. They’d shared hugs and promises to keep in touch, then went their separate ways.
Narey slid into the passenger seat of the slush-streaked silver Volvo and fell back against the warm leather seat, some of the tension melting at the touch.
‘Was that tough?’
She nodded, eyes closed, initially content to let the sigh speak for her.
‘Yeah. You could say that. I’d never met Vonnie, never worked her case. But it felt like I did.’
Winter nodded, understanding but not quite agreeing. ‘You say you didn’t work her case but you cracked it. You put the guy away.’
‘Years too late for Vonnie, though.’
He wasn’t letting her away with that. ‘Too late for her to know but not too late.’ He turned to cast a glance at the seat behind them. ‘You made sure no one else had to go through what they did.’
‘Not just me. Lainey and Leah too. And you.’
She shifted round to see the blonde bundle asleep in the car seat behind. As Narey looked, Alanna stirred, eyes fluttering and focusing until she saw her mother in front of her.
The look on her face adjusted itself from confused to delighted. She began smiling and squealing, her hands clapping together in excitement.
‘I think she might be pleased to see you,’ Winter smiled.
‘Well, the feeling’s mutual. It was all for her. Every moment of it. Let’s go home.’
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The nature of the crimes in this book meant I had to rely even more heavily than usual on the knowledge, advice and support of others. Some are named here, others are not.
I owe thanks to rape crisis worker Helen Lambertin, whose insight and expertise helped convince me I could tackle such a sensitive subject. As a male author, I am grateful for the safety net of feedback from two brilliant female crime writers, Eva Dolan and my wife, Alexandra Sokoloff.
As ever, I am indebted to the fantastic team at Simon & Schuster, particularly my wonderful editor Jo Dickinson, and to Mark Stanton, the best agent a man could share a Guinness with.
Craig Robertson
Murderabilia
The first commuter train of the morning slowly rumbles away from platform seven of Queen St station. And then, as the train emerges from a tunnel, the screaming starts. Hanging from the bridge ahead of them is a body. Placed neatly on the g
round below him are the victim’s clothes.
Why?
Detective Inspector Rachel Narey is assigned the case and then just as quickly taken off it again. Tony Winter, now a journalist, must pursue the case for her. The line of questioning centres around the victim’s clothes – why leave them in full view? And what did the killer not leave, and where might it appear again?
Everyone has a hobby. Some people collect death. To find this evil, Narey must go on to the dark web, and into immense danger . . .
Available in print and eBook
Craig Robertson
In Place of Death
A tense and gripping crime novel set in the dark underbelly of Glasgow . . .
A young man enters the culverted remains of an ancient Glasgow stream, looking for thrills. Deep below the city, it is decaying and claustrophobic and gets more so with every step. As the ceiling lowers to no more than a couple of feet above the ground, the man finds his path blocked by another person. Someone with his throat cut.
As DS Rachel Narey leads the official investigation, photographer Tony Winter follows a lead of his own, through the shadowy world of urbexers, people who pursue a dangerous and illegal hobby, a world that Winter knows more about than he lets on.
And it soon becomes clear that the murderer has killed before, and has no qualms about doing so again.
Available in print and eBook
Craig Robertson
The Last Refuge
John Callum is fleeing his past, but has run straight into danger.
When John Callum arrives on the wild and desolate Faroe Islands, he vows to sever all ties with his previous life. He desperately wants to make a new start, and is surprised by how quickly he is welcomed into the close-knit community. But still, the terrifying, debilitating nightmares just won’t stop.
Then the solitude is shattered by an almost unheard of crime on the islands: murder. A specialist team of detectives arrives from Denmark to help the local police, who seem completely ill-equipped for an investigation of this scale. But as tensions rise, and the community closes rank to protect its own, John has to watch his back.
But far more disquieting than that, John’s nightmares have taken an even more disturbing turn, and he can’t be certain about the one thing he needs to know above all else. Whether he is the killer . . .
Available in print and eBook
Craig Robertson
Witness the Dead
Red Silk is back . . .
Scotland 1972. Glasgow is haunted by a murderer nicknamed Red Silk – a feared serial killer who selects his victims in the city’s nightclubs. The case remains unsolved but Archibald Atto, later imprisoned for other murders, is thought to be Red Silk.
In modern-day Glasgow, DS Rachel Narey is called to a gruesome crime scene at the city’s Necropolis. The body of a young woman lies stretched out over a tomb. Her body bears a three-letter message from her killer.
Now retired, former detective Danny Neilson spots a link between the new murder and those he investigated in 1972 – details that no copycat killer could have known about. But Atto is still behind bars. Must Danny face up to his fears that they never caught their man? Determined finally to crack the case, Danny, along with his nephew, police photographer Tony Winter, pays Atto a visit. But they soon discover that they are going to need the combined efforts of police forces past and present to bring a twisted killer to justice.
Available in print and eBook
Craig Robertson
Cold Grave
A murder investigation frozen in time is beginning to melt.
November 1993. Scotland is in the grip of an ice-cold winter and the Lake of Menteith is frozen over. A young man and woman walk across the ice to the historic island of Inchmahome which lies in the middle of the lake. Only the man returns.
In the spring, as staff prepare the abbey ruins for summer visitors, they discover the body of a girl, her skull violently crushed.
Present day. Retired detective Alan Narey is still haunted by the unsolved crime. Desperate to relieve her ailing father’s conscience, DS Rachel Narey risks her job and reputation by returning to the Lake of Menteith and unofficially reopening the cold case.
With the help of police photographer Tony Winter, Rachel prepares a dangerous gambit to uncover the killer’s identity – little knowing who that truly is. Despite the freezing temperatures the ice cold case begins to thaw, and with it a tide of secrets long frozen in time are suddenly and shockingly unleashed.
Available in print and eBook
Craig Robertson
Snapshot
A series of high-profile shootings by a lone sniper leaves Glasgow terrorised and police photographer Tony Winter – a man with a tragic hidden past – mystified.
Who is behind the executions of some of the most notorious drug lords in the city? As more shootings occur – including those of police officers – the authorities realise they have a vigilante on their hands.
Meanwhile, Tony investigates a link between the victims and a schoolboy who has been badly beaten. Seemingly unconnected, they share a strange link. As Tony delves deeper, his quest for the truth and his search for the killer lead him down dark and dangerous paths.
Available in print and eBook
Craig Robertson
Random
Glasgow is being terrorised by a serial killer the media have nicknamed The Cutter. The murders have left the police baffled.
There seems to be neither rhyme nor reason behind the killings; no kind of pattern or motive; an entirely different method of murder each time, and nothing that connects the victims except for the fact that the little fingers of their right hands have been severed.
If DS Rachel Narey could only work out the key to the seemingly random murders, how and why the killer selects his victims, she would be well on her way to catching him. But as the police, the press and a threatening figure from Glasgow’s underworld begin to close in on The Cutter, his carefully-laid plans threaten to unravel – with horrifying consequences.
Available in print and eBook
During his 20-year career in Glasgow with a Scottish Sunday newspaper, Craig Robertson interviewed three recent Prime Ministers, and attended major stories including 9/11, Dunblane, the Omagh bombing and the disappearance of Madeleine McCann. He was pilloried on breakfast television, beat Oprah Winfrey to a major scoop, spent time on Death Row in the USA and dispensed polio drops in the backstreets of India. His debut novel, Random, was shortlisted for the CWA New Blood Dagger and was a Sunday Times bestseller.
Also by Craig Robertson:
Murderabilia
In Place of Death
The Last Refuge
Witness the Dead
Cold Grave
Snapshot
Random
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2018
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Copyright © Craig Robertson, 2018
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