by Lin Anderson
Despite the circumstances, she’d enjoyed her return to the island. And things had gone okay with Magnus too. On that thought, she checked her mobile and found his message asking her to meet him at the spiritualist church. Not something she wanted to do at this moment in time.
She kicked off her shoes as though that decided things for her.
A shower then something to eat was her preference. Despite this, she did go through to the front room. Magnus had indicated that the church building was on the section of Sauchiehall Street not far from the steps that led down from the flat. It was a route she’d often taken on walks, although generally turning right before she met the main thoroughfare, choosing the streets that bordered the park or along by the Kelvin.
Curiosity suggested she ask Magnus to drop by after he’d spoken to Patrick Menzies. She decided to make up her mind after she’d had a shower and eaten. If he’d already talked to Menzies and gone home, then fate had played its hand and she was free to relax.
She ordered up a pizza, checked Tom’s bowls had the requisite amount of food and water, then took herself off to the shower. By the time she was dried and dressed, the buzzer was heralding the arrival of her meal.
She opened her front door in anticipation, only to find not the pizza delivery man but McNab. Rhona stared at him in amazement.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’
‘Only if you’re here to deliver pizza.’
‘I hope you ordered a large one,’ he said, pushing past.
Rhona followed him into the kitchen, wondering what on earth had changed his mind about having anything to do with her.
‘Whisky?’ he said.
‘Top cupboard along with the glasses.’
He retrieved the bottle. ‘Are you having one?’
‘I haven’t eaten yet.’
‘You’ll need it when you see what I’ve got to show you.’
‘That sounds ominous.’
‘Fetch your laptop.’
‘Why?’
‘Because someone has blown our cover.’ He glared at Rhona, suggesting he might be referring to her.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Get the laptop,’ he ordered.
Rhona fetched her bag from the hall and set up the laptop. She logged on, then McNab took charge. In a few minutes, she was presented with a basic outline map of the UK with a number of crosses on it. One of them rested on the main island of Orkney, another just south of where Glasgow would lie.
‘According to the Techies, Alan was playing an exclusive game with only five players, which involved Druid sites around the UK. Until an hour ago, only myself and the Tech department were aware of this map. Now it’s trending on Twitter.’
McNab was right, this was bad news. The police relied on help from the public and the media, but sensationalizing a case could greatly hamper the investigation.
‘Does the Tech department have any idea who put the map online?’
‘It wasn’t us, that’s for sure.’ McNab threw her a look that spoke volumes. ‘Last I heard, Pirie was showing you a map of possible locations.’
Rhona wanted to deny this, but couldn’t outright. ‘Magnus and I discussed the direction of the hands and possible linked locations, which I urged you to consider. You chose not to,’ she reminded him sharply.
McNab’s retort was cut short by the sound of the buzzer.
Rhona went to answer it. The long-awaited pizza had arrived along with a second and probably unfortunate visitor. Rhona paid for the pizza, then ushered Magnus into the hall, motioning him to silence.
‘McNab’s here,’ she said quietly.
‘I’m sorry.’ He looked embarrassed. ‘I didn’t mean to intrude.’
‘He’s after your blood, not my body.’ She indicated the kitchen door and let Magnus enter first.
McNab’s expression when she’d followed Magnus in brought the term ‘stags at bay’ to mind. If she’d had her mobile handy she would have taken a picture and sent it to Chrissy.
A bristling silence ensued for some time, probably because neither man wanted to concede any ground. McNab presented many of the characteristics of a high-testosterone male. Magnus was more subtle, but the need to control and to win was just as strong. They could have made a powerful combination, but that would require concessions on both sides, which wasn’t happening at the moment.
Rhona ignored the stand-off, preferring to serve the pizza. She cut it into three slices, making hers the largest.
‘I suggest we eat first and talk after.’
Her intervention appeared to break the stalemate. McNab helped himself to another whisky, then set about his pizza slice. Magnus declined his portion, muttering that he’d already eaten, but he poured himself a whisky. Rhona finished her helping and eyed the third slice, before retrieving the knife and dividing it in two, pointedly taking the larger piece again. If McNab noticed, he didn’t comment, but polished off what he was offered.
The box empty, Rhona put it in the recycling beside three more, making a mental note to switch to Indian or Chinese next time for a change. She replenished her own glass, added some water in view of the previous evening’s proceedings, then drew Magnus’s attention to the laptop, whose screen had switched off in the intervening meal break. His reaction when the map appeared was fairly dramatic.
‘Where did you get this?’ he demanded.
McNab was immediately in there. ‘You recognize this map?’
‘It looks similar to one Jack Loudon showed me.’
‘Who the fuck’s Jack Loudon?’ McNab said.
‘He’s in charge of the dig on the Ness near the Ring of Brodgar.’
‘You discussed the case with him?’ McNab said in disbelief.
Magnus looked slightly uncomfortable. ‘We discussed the layout of the bodies and any link that might have with their Neolithic locations.’
‘Like what?’
‘Whether they resembled Neolithic sacrifices.’
‘And did they?’
‘He couldn’t say, but he did point out the significance of the hands.’
McNab had heard this line before, too often for his liking. He held up his own hand to silence Magnus. It worked, but Magnus wasn’t pleased at the reprimand. Rhona moved in before things got any warmer. She explained about the game.
‘This map is associated with an online game Alan was playing with four others. Until now that wasn’t common knowledge.’
‘Now it’s all over the internet,’ McNab said.
Magnus looked aghast. ‘And you think that has something to do with me?’
When McNab didn’t answer, Magnus continued. ‘First of all, I said it was similar, not the same. Jack’s map was true to scale, unlike this one. Secondly, it only covered Scotland and a small portion of the north of England. There were a lot more sites marked, and they had ley lines between them.’
‘What the hell’s a ley line?’ McNab said.
Rhona came in. ‘An energy line, probably magnetic. Ancient civilizations built near or on them. You said there were five participants in this game. What if the Orkney victim was also playing it? And that’s what connects the two deaths?’
Before McNab could answer, Magnus intervened. ‘I don’t think the Brodgar victim was involved in the game.’
He had McNab’s attention now and his silence.
‘I had a visit from a girl who I think was the intended victim at that location.’ Magnus described his frightened visitor and their conversation.
‘So we find her,’ McNab interrupted. ‘It can’t be difficult in a place the size of Orkney. I thought everyone knew everyone else.’
‘That’s why I’m here. A couple of divers found what they believe to be her body trapped in the wreck of the Tabarka off Hoy in Scapa Flow. DI Flett called me a short while ago. I’m headed up tomorrow to ID her.’
McNab’s tenseness was replaced by fury. He rose and walked to the window, which was as far away from Magnus as was possible
in the room. Rhona sensed he seriously wanted to smack Magnus in the face. It was time for her to intervene with her own news, which she suspected McNab wasn’t yet aware of.
‘The toxicology report revealed that Alan died from an injection of heroin and cocaine, probably administered in the neck.’
McNab turned to face them. ‘I knew that bloody stash was involved somehow.’
‘The girl who visited me was high on something,’ Magnus added, as though to smooth the waters between himself and McNab.
‘We don’t know yet how the Orkney victim died,’ Rhona reminded them, then voiced what she thought was the most important question. ‘How soon before we find out the identities of the players in this game?’
‘Ollie’s working on it,’ McNab said. ‘He may look twelve, but I think he knows what he’s doing.’
Rhona thought for a moment. ‘What if it was the perpetrator who put the map online?’
Both men took time to digest this.
‘You mean to up the stakes?’ Magnus said.
McNab looked irritated. ‘You’re assuming the game is what this is all about.’
‘No. But it’s a line of enquiry we can’t ignore,’ Rhona said.
McNab shot her a withering look. ‘Your job is to ask questions of the crime scene, Dr MacLeod, not direct the investigation.’
Rhona realized McNab was back in defence mode, which generally ended in attack.
‘I’d like you both to leave now,’ she said firmly.
The two men regarded her in surprise.
‘But we haven’t finished—’ McNab began.
‘I have.’ Rhona indicated the door.
They exited like two recalcitrant schoolboys.
Rhona watched them descend in angry silence. It almost made her want to laugh, if the reason for both their visits hadn’t been so disturbing.
28
Now that his body had been released for burial, the reality of Alan’s death had to be faced. Until today, Amy could periodically fool herself that everything that had happened had been a dream. That on Sunday, Alan would arrive as normal. To this end she’d bought a chicken as usual, and some of the beer he liked. She’d also topped up on dog food for Barney.
Her vigil at the window had continued. Lack of sleep and regular food had placed her in a semi-comatose state, prone to occasional hallucination. She heard Alan’s voice as regularly as she heard Barney’s bark. She caught Alan’s fleeting shadow as he moved about the house, heard his music playing in his room. All of which she clung to as reality.
She did not eat Doreen’s heart-warming stews and soups, or give in to her constant urging to come out for a coffee. She had let Doreen into the house, but her stays were curtailed and the conversation one-sided. Amy had not revealed her visit from the medium and had no intention of doing so.
When the female police officer had called, she’d let her in too, because somewhere in her grief-befuddled brain she knew she must. The news that Alan’s body was at the undertaker’s in preparation for burial she’d accepted without comment. She could not imagine burying her son, or cremating him, because she couldn’t believe he was dead. And the visit from the medium had only served to reinforce this.
Her initial anger at Patrick Menzies had been replaced with a desire to be in his presence, because it made her feel closer to her son. They spoke on the phone regularly. It was Patrick who had arranged the undertaker for her. It would be he who took her there shortly to view the body of her son. She could accept this because she knew the body was only a shell and that Alan was still here with her.
Patrick was also trying to persuade her to speak to the detective on the case. He wanted her to relay the messages she was receiving from Alan. To set Alan free, he said.
Amy hadn’t agreed to this. Not because she didn’t want to help the police but because she was frightened that if she did so, Alan would leave and she would be truly alone. Finally and forever.
The doorbell sounded. Amy imagined Barney’s bark in answer. She rose and went to open the door.
Patrick smiled in at her. ‘Are you ready, Amy?’
She nodded.
‘Then let’s go.’
His car was small, very clean and smelt of lemons. Amy relaxed back into the seat. Being in Patrick’s presence made her feel safe, as if Alan sat between them. Although it would be squashed in here with her big son. Amy smiled at the thought. They didn’t talk on the way. Patrick never tried to get her to talk. It was as though they spoke silently to one another. He turned and gave her a soft look. Even his looks were kind.
She was dozing when they reached the funeral home and he had to touch her arm to waken her.
‘We’re here, Amy.’
For a moment she was paralysed by fear. ‘I can’t …’
He took her hand. ‘You can.’
She gathered what little was left of her strength, and got out of the car. She noted nothing of the place on entry, spending all her time and effort putting one foot in front of the other. Patrick spoke to someone, a man, she thought, although she kept her head down. Then they were ushered into a room where soft music played. This isn’t Alan’s music, she thought. We’re in the wrong room. She hesitated and Patrick took hold of her hand again.
‘Come,’ he said and led her to the coffin.
She looked down on her baby, man-size now, but still her baby. She reached over and touched his hair, thick and glossy as ever. How could his hair feel so alive?
‘It’s important to say goodbye,’ Patrick said.
‘He’s not gone,’ she reminded him.
‘His spirit no, but this part of him, yes.’
Amy kissed her fingertips and touched the cold lips. ‘Goodbye, my baby, my boy, my fine young man.’
She didn’t register being led away, nor being placed in the car. Her next memory was Patrick getting in beside her.
‘We have to speak to Detective Inspector McNab now,’ Patrick said gently. ‘Alan wants us to.’
29
Today had not begun well, just as yesterday had ended badly. Having ejected Iona when the news came through about the map going viral, he had similarly been ejected, along with Pirie, from Rhona’s presence.
McNab had a feeling he was about to be ejected again. This time from the case, or from his role in it. The summons had been waiting for him when he’d arrived this morning. Returning home last night, he had slept very little and worried a lot. The map going viral was more than just a setback. It made the case UK news, and had already attracted international attention.
And it was drawing nutters like flies to a corpse.
An early visit to the Tech department had found a big-eyed Ollie with his eyes resembling those of his namesake. He’d been playing the night owl, and been bamboozled by how swiftly the map had captured the imagination of the digital community. He had also made some progress on the game.
‘There are five levels.’
‘Now there’s a surprise,’ McNab had said wearily.
‘When you reach the fifth, you attain a higher level of consciousness, become something else …’
‘Dead?’
Ollie obviously didn’t do sarcasm. ‘I think you attain a new persona, get gold stars or something. Although it’s supposed to be Druid-like, it only uses some of the real Druid stuff.’
The words ‘real’ and ‘Druid’ didn’t belong in the same sentence, but McNab refrained from saying so.
‘The Order of Bards, Ovates and Druids is a trilogy so doesn’t match the pattern of five.’
McNab felt a wash of irritated disinterest sweep over him. ‘Ollie,’ he held up his hand. ‘I need to know who’s playing the game.’
‘But if we understand the game, we could pinpoint where the next location will be.’ He noted McNab’s puzzled expression. ‘If they reach level five, they’re sent somewhere.’
‘But they won’t keep playing, not when they wake up to the fact that two of them are dead!’
Ollie was the puzz
led one now. ‘The game isn’t out there yet. Only the map.’
McNab was seized by an idea. ‘Why don’t we expose the game and ask the players to come forward?’
Ollie shook his head in disbelief. ‘You’ll be inundated with nutters who say they’re playing it and hackers trying to play it.’
With that worrying thought, McNab had departed, minus an answer for his commanding officer which either of them would like, or even understand.
The meeting with Superintendent Sutherland was scheduled for ten o’clock. McNab had the caffeine buzz by nine thirty in anticipation. That’s when he got the message that Mrs MacKenzie was here, wanting to speak to him. What the front desk didn’t mention was that she was accompanied by Patrick Menzies. McNab discovered this when DS Clark showed them into his office.
McNab threw his sergeant a look that suggested he would deal with her later, but it appeared to have little effect on her demeanour. McNab questioned once again if he was losing his touch.
He welcomed Mrs MacKenzie and offered her a seat, then was forced to shake Menzies’ hand. That accomplished, he focussed on the woman. As far as McNab was aware, Alan’s mother had not taken to Menzies. Now, from the manner in which she checked with him before speaking, that situation had changed.
‘Detective Inspector,’ she began. ‘Alan …’
When she hesitated, McNab came in. ‘His body has been released for burial?’
She nodded.
‘And our liaison officer explained how we believe he died?’
She nodded again.
‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Mackenzie, for your loss. I assure you we’re doing everything we can to find who did this to your son.’
She glanced at Menzies and he gave her an encouraging look.
‘I think I can help you with that,’ she said, more strongly now.
‘Have you remembered something that might help?’ McNab said.
‘No, but I’ve received messages about Alan …’ She ground to a halt.
Menzies looked as though he might intervene, but didn’t.