‘How…how d’you know ’bout Alex Devlin?’
‘What did you say, you old fool?’
‘Devlin. The girl? How…’ The effort was too much. His chin sank onto his chest.
Suddenly his head was wrenched up by fingers pulling on his chin. ‘How did I know?’ Edward flinched as spit flew in his face. His visitor’s eyes were blazing. Edward never understood what that meant until now. Blazing.
‘We found the diary. When we came to your house the other day. Broke in. Searched for it while you were off out buying booze and finally, we found it. Martin Jessop told us all we needed to know. Now do you understand?’
The fingers let go of his chin. Edward nodded, tears flowing freely.
‘Now.’ The voice was tender again. ‘Have some pills. They’ll help.’
Edward nodded and scrabbled the pills from the outstretched hand.
‘That’s it, carefully now.’
He felt the hand guide his own to his mouth. He could smell the latex and powder of the surgical gloves. He parted his lips and swallowed the pills. They made him want to gag. The gloved hand was stroking his throat, helping the pills down.
‘There, that’s better.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he heard himself mumble. ‘Jill, I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry.’
‘Have some more, Edward. Just a couple more pills.’
‘You know I’m sorry, don’t you?’ he whispered as the pills went in his mouth. Somewhere in his brain he knew he had to make his visitor understand. Somewhere he knew it was important that they should know he was sorry, for all of it. All of it.
‘That’s right, Teddy. Soon you’ll be able to forget. No more painful memories, hmm? That’s what you want, isn’t it?’
Edward opened one eye. Took effort. Tried to open the other. Couldn’t. Saw a large plastic bag. Heard a tearing, snapping noise. A hiss like gas escaping from a balloon. Wanted to say he would put things right. Too much.
The darkness closed around him as he heard a whisper of movement in the air.
29
‘Damn. Fuck. Shit. Bollocks.’ Kate banged the steering wheel with the palms of her hands making them sting.
‘That looked as though it hurt,’ said Glithro, his voice mild. ‘And a nice array of swear words there, Detective Inspector.’
Kate turned to him. ‘There goes our fucking lead.’
‘A lead, Kate. There’ll be more where that came from.’ He smoothed the hair on the top of his head.
They were sitting in the car outside Grainger’s house, letting the forensic team do their work. It was fuggy, and the windscreen had steamed up, blotting out the dismal view of rain and sea and more rain.
‘I don’t know where you get your optimism from.’ She sighed, aware she was sounding especially grumpy. ‘Sometimes, in the winter around here, I fantasize about working in a hot country like Spain or somewhere. Sunshine all day long. Arresting expat crooks.’ She grinned. ‘I reckon I could enjoy that.’
‘No you wouldn’t.’ Glithro unwrapped another piece of chewing gum. ‘You’d be bored witless after a while and very sunburnt. Your skin’s not made for constant sunshine. And besides, those crooks abroad are very stupid. All they want is a big fuck-off villa and some arm candy and to boast about what they’ve done. They’re an easy catch.’
‘Then why haven’t more been caught? Oh, bloody hell.’ She banged the steering wheel again. ‘Why the fuck did he kill himself now, of all times?’
Glithro laughed. ‘It was very inconvenient of him, I must say. He could have waited an hour or two.’
‘It’s no joking matter.’ She groaned. ‘We could only have been minutes too late.’
‘True.’ The muscles of his jaw worked slowly. ‘Haven’t seen an exit bag suicide for years.’
‘How do people know how to use those things?’
‘Come on, Kate, it’s all over the internet. Plenty of advice about how much helium to let flow into the bag to make you drowsy enough not to want to pull the bloody thing off your head. Plenty of places to buy bags with the Velcro to do them up with. Christ, there are forums that can tell you what poisons to cook up to kill yourself successfully. You know that as well as I do.’
‘Depressing.’
‘Some people are that desperate.’ His voice was sharp enough to make Kate look across at him, but his face was immobile. Then he seemed to shake himself. ‘And Edward Grainger was obviously that desperate.’
There was silence in the car, broken only by the sound of the rain on the roof. ‘All a bit pat, though, isn’t it?’ said Kate. ‘Could have done it any time over the last fifteen years.’ She could feel the frustration bubbling up inside.
‘No obvious note.’
Kate leaned back and closed her eyes. ‘No note. Dies at a rather convenient time. Let’s not presume anything.’
‘So, if we’re not definitely coming down on the side of suicide, could he have been murdered?’
‘Precisely.’ Kate opened her eyes.
‘And if he was murdered—’
‘Who did it?’ Kate finished for him.
‘More than that, Kate, why? And why now? Has someone got wind of the fact that we’re looking into Jackie Wood’s murder and are looking back into the past?’ He turned on the seat to face her, his face animated. ‘Someone’s frightened.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Or he could have killed himself. Maybe it was just coincidence that we were coming up to see him on the very day he decided to top himself. There was no sign of forced entry. No sign of force at all. He just looked as though he’d gone to sleep.’
‘It’s the helium that does that, isn’t it?’ said Kate, thinking of the bottle of gas with the tube snaking into the plastic bag over Grainger’s head. ‘Makes them docile so they don’t try to claw the bag off. And he’d been drinking.’
‘Clements. That’s who we’ve got to talk to next, isn’t it?’
‘Can’t talk to Grainger.’
‘Obviously.’ Glithro grinned.
‘Are you interested then, Glithro?’
‘Interested?’
‘In something that happened fifteen years ago?’
He shut his eyes as if he were thinking. ‘It’s all happening at once, isn’t it?’
‘Meaning?’
‘First, Wood gets released from prison, then she’s murdered – found, coincidentally, by the murdered children’s aunt – then Grainger’s found dead. I mean, what’s next and why now?’
There was a knock on the side window, and Kate pressed the button to open it while breathing a silent sigh of relief. It was the pathologist smiling her usual sunny smile.
‘Jane,’ she said by way of greeting. ‘How goes it?’
Jane lifted her umbrella high and bent her head into the window. ‘Fancy seeing you here, Katie. Bloody miserable,’ she smiled. ‘Poor guy didn’t look after himself well, and what a way to die. Brrr.’ She shivered and the rain dripped down her face.
‘Do you want to hop in the car?’ Kate felt as though it was the least she could offer.
Jane shook her head. ‘No, want to get off. Just thought I’d tell you that it looks like suicide.’
‘Looks like?’
‘Not convinced, despite the bag over the head and the helium. Have to do some more tests. Toxicology and all that, though there’s enough booze and pills lying around to kill an army. Hey ho. I’ll let you know. If you want to come along to the post-mortem you’ll be very welcome.’
Kate thought about the low, dark building with its pure white interior that smelt of death, however antiseptic Jane kept it. ‘I’ll let you know, Jane, okay?’
‘Sure.’ Jane straightened. ‘Your guys are still in there nosing around, but I’m off. Toodle pip.’ She banged the top of the car before walking away.
‘“Toodle pip”.’ Glithro shook his head. ‘I’ve heard it all now.’
‘Come on, you know Jane. She loves her work.’
‘Hmm. I count myself lucky not knowing her. I bet she’s a les
bian too.’
Kate remembered why she hadn’t liked Glithro in the first place. ‘Does it matter?’ she said, coldly.
Glithro banged the back of his head on the seat. ‘Oh God, I’m in a car with a card-carrying feminist.’
‘Oh, don’t be so stupid. What are you doing? Hankering for the seventies or something?’
‘Just making an observation.’
‘Well keep your ignorant, ill-informed and, frankly, offensive observations to yourself.’
‘What? Just because I said our lovely Jane was a lesbian? Some of my best friends—’
‘Are lesbians,’ she finished off his cliché. ‘I know; that’s what they all say and it really doesn’t cut it, so just keep quiet.’ Kate was furious with herself for having begun to like the man.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
‘Along with that,’ Kate continued as if there hadn’t been a break in the conversation, ‘if you have a problem with gay people it’s because you feel your masculinity’s being threatened.’
Another silence ensued. Kate breathed deeply to try and defuse her irritation.
Then Glithro smiled. ‘You’re awfully easy to wind up, you know.’
‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not really bothered whether Jane is gay, straight, or bi, I just enjoy teasing you.’
Kate couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
‘Look, do you want to find somewhere to eat?’ he asked.
‘Why?’ She still felt antagonistic.
He looked at her. ‘Why not? I’m hungry. Katie.’ He grinned.
Not being able to think of a good reason why not, half an hour later Kate found herself sitting opposite Glithro in a small café on the side of the coast road. The tables were covered in oilcloth and there were black and white photographs of fishermen and their nets and boats on the walls. It was just the place to thaw out. Kate felt herself relaxing as they tucked in to an enormous plate of fish and chips, with a pot of builder’s tea on the side.
‘So, you must have been quite young when you found the little boy in that suitcase.’ The batter on Glithro’s fish cracked as he sunk his knife into it.
‘Thanks, Glithro. No pleasantries from you, then.’ Her fish was soft and fresh inside its batter coating.
Glithro chewed and swallowed. ‘Man, this is good. I believe in getting straight to the heart of the matter.’
Kate nodded. ‘Okay. I was young, yes. It was horrible. Why can’t you hold on to your wives?’
He looked at her steadily and she realized what a coal-black colour his eyes were. ‘Truth is, I should never have got married in the first place. But each time I thought I would get it right. This time I would be a good husband. Didn’t work though.’
‘And the children?’
He speared some chips. ‘Ah. Biggest regret. Biggest joy. Regret because I suppose I should never have brought them into the world. Regret because I hardly ever see them.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Perils of the job. And joy because, well they are, aren’t they?’
She swallowed. The fish was dry in her throat. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said.
‘Ah.’
‘What do you mean, “ah”?’
‘I just mean I’ve obviously hit a bit of a nerve.’
‘Nope.’ Kate squirted some sauce out of the giant plastic tomato. It looked like a dollop of blood on her plate.
‘Okay.’
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
The compulsion to talk became too much. ‘When I found Harry, Harry Clements, he hadn’t been dead that long. I mean long enough to have lost the rigor mortis and for some putrefaction to have set in – it was a hot summer – but not so long that he didn’t still look like a little boy. I was eventually allowed to take him out of the suitcase. But not until he’d been photographed and examined and generally gawped over.’
‘Who told the parents?’
She shook her head. ‘Anna Lord. She was a good copper. She went along with her partner, DI Bishop. I was there too. Insisted on going, seeing as I’d found him.’
‘It’s the worst part of our job. Taking away the hope.’
‘But at least Sasha Clements knew what happened to Harry. She’s still left wondering about Millie. Even now she’s left wondering about Millie.’ She managed to swallow some of her food. ‘Then there was the trial and the sleepless nights, the worry about putting over the evidence in the right way, and then the satisfaction that Jessop and Wood were put away. I was so naive.’
‘How so?’
‘To think that it could all be wrapped up as easily as that. That I could forget about it.’
‘The child. Harry. He died from drowning, didn’t he?’
Kate nodded. ‘That’s what the post-mortem said. Though when he was found he was wearing brand new pyjamas. Nothing fancy, only chain store ones.’ She had a sudden flash of blue, of Thomas the Tank Engine. ‘He was nice and dry. Just dead.’
More silence. Sounds of knives and forks scraping on plates. Glithro taking a drink of tea. The sound of him drinking magnified.
‘I’ve never wanted children since,’ she said casually, dipping a couple of chips in the tomato sauce and feeling as though a great rock in her stomach was starting to dissolve. The very act of telling someone the truth without excuses was…liberating, that was the only word for it. She felt giddy. Excited. She tried not to think why it was Glithro she’d decided to confide in; the one copper she thought she didn’t like. Turned out maybe she was wrong about him.
‘And what does your partner think of that?’ Those black eyes, looking steadily at her.
She was going to say he was fine about it, didn’t mind. Was willing to wait until she was ready. ‘My husband doesn’t know,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t know what I really think.’
‘Ah.’
The sound of her phone ringing broke the tension between them. It was DS Rogers. She listened to what he had to say, then cut the connection. She picked up her tea and drained the cup. ‘Time to get back, DI Glithro. Steve has had a tip-off from the boys at the Grainger crime scene.’
‘It’s a crime scene now is it?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Kate, putting some money down on the table, ‘suicide note on the computer.’
30
The lights were off as Kate pulled up outside the house. Chris was probably absorbed in his work in the studio. Maybe putting the finishing touches to the table and chairs. She stretched as she got out of the car. Things were beginning to come together.
The suicide note on the computer was obviously false.
I’m sorry. I can’t go on any longer without my Gill. Forgive me.
Yeah, right. Nobody wrote their suicide note on a computer that they then switched off. And the clincher was one of the officers who’d been first on the scene. An old mate of Grainger’s who’d known the couple and who had been to his wife’s funeral. ‘Her name was Jill with a “J”, not a “G”,’ he said. ‘Grainger would never have got that wrong, however far gone he was.’
Then when they got back to the station, Rogers had turned up a report about an attempted burglary at Grainger’s house, which Kate thought was too much of a coincidence not to have been related. And now that they had two murders in a quiet Suffolk town in the space of a week, she had to get answers before she had Cherry – and the press – baying for blood.
‘Look,’ she told her team, ‘get onto any cameras in the area – you never know – they could have been speeding off somewhere. Bound to have come in a car, the place is far too isolated to walk to. Something tells me the robber came back. Why, I don’t know. Yet. And my gut tells me that if we find Grainger’s killer, it could give us some clues to Jackie Wood’s murderer. I’m convinced the two are linked. Too much of a coincidence not to be.’
‘Hi darling, I’m back.’ She took off her coat and hung it over the banister. The house was cold, unwelcoming, as if no one had been in it all day. Strange. Chris normally left a
dimmed lamp on for her even when he was working. Must be totally absorbed in what he was doing.
She went upstairs to get changed, looking forward to a glass of wine and a chat with Chris – she wanted to tell him about the day, how she felt they could be getting closer to the killer of Jackie Wood.
She switched the light on in the bathroom.
The doors of the cabinet above the sink were wide open. Bottles of bubble bath, mouth wash, and shampoo lay cracked and broken on the floor, their contents merging into one lurid blue swirl. Tubes of toothpaste, cans of deodorant and shaving foam littered the floor, too. In the basin were assorted bubble packs of pills.
Pills.
A crawling dread went down Kate’s spine. She picked up the packs. Her contraceptive pills and the pills Doctor Bone had given her for depression. The contraceptive pill packet half empty, the pills for depression full. She put her hands either side of the basin and bowed her head. Chris had found them. She kept them both right at the top and back of the cupboard underneath bars of soap and aspirin. What the fuck was Chris doing? He never rooted around in the cabinet, never. His stuff – toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving stuff – were all on the bottom shelf on the right-hand side. Not at the top. Not at the bloody top. Why hadn’t she been more careful?
She took a deep, shuddering breath and scooped the mess out of the basin before splashing her face with cold water. The crap on the floor would just have to stay for the moment.
The night was clear, a frost in the air. With the moon lighting her way, Kate went down the path and pushed open the studio door. Chris had finished the table and chairs and they stood in the middle of the room, the moonlight making them gleam. They were beautiful. Kate ran her hand over the wood. It was smooth and hard and somehow living under her touch. The chairs were simple, the lines clean and pleasing. She walked around the furniture and saw a pile of what looked like kindling in the corner of the room. She swallowed and went over to the pile and knelt beside it. She could see it was the remains of the beautiful baby’s crib Chris had been making. She picked up a couple of pieces of the splintered wood and hugged them to her chest.
The Bad Things Page 24