by Zach Abrams
Helen didn't know whether to be more relieved or angry. Her face was flushed and she looked ready to start yelling when she spotted Alex looking stern and shaking his head while holding his finger to his lips as a warning for her to stay quiet.
“I really am sorry, but I'm awfully tired, can we talk about it tomorrow?” Craig said and without waiting for an answer he ran up the stairs to his room.
Alex took Helen's hand and led her back into the lounge. She looked a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her makeup had run down her face giving her the colouring of a panda.
“I was so frightened,” she said. “I'm still shaking, please hold me.” She put her arms round Alex's neck and leaned against him. His arms gently held her, lowering her head to his shoulder.
“I'm so glad you found him and brought him home, but I don't know if I can cope. I don't know what I can do with him. What's happened to us? How did we become this way?” she asked more to herself. “I've made such a mess of things.” Great sobs racked her body.
Alex held her close helping her to calm down. He could feel the warmth of her body next to his with her chest heaving close to his.
“I feel so panicked and so alone, please don't leave.”
Alex interpreted her as meaning she needed company for a bit longer and replied, “It's okay, I'm not in any hurry.”
She lifted her head and nuzzled his neck then pulled his head towards her for their lips to meet. She kissed him and nibbled on his lower lip, thrusting her body against his and rubbing against him. He kissed her back, his body reactively hardening. Detecting his arousal, she leaned backwards towards the couch pulling him with her. She lay flat and he was lying over her. “Please stay with me tonight,” she whispered.
Alex was reacting instinctively, his lips parted, his tongue probing Helen's mouth. His hands roamed freely over her torso, pushing aside the thin fabric of her sweater and bra to access her breasts. She was gasping and whispering encouragement. A couple of layers of fabric and the hardness between his legs were all that separated their union. Although exhausted after his long and difficult day, Alex felt strong. It had been some considerable time since he had enjoyed intimate relations with a woman, but today he was being deluged. Images of his day passed before him. Carol Sneddon practically exposed her breasts in a come-on, his passionate embrace with Sandra and the prospect of more if only he hadn't been interrupted by Helen's call and now Helen seeking his physical attentions. He was reminded of the cliché of waiting a long time for a bus and then three come along at once. He really wanted to have sex, he felt a physical need almost. He wanted to have sex with Sandra. He looked down and saw Helen's face, blotchy from her makeup running but nevertheless still beautiful, but it wasn't Sandra. Much as his body was responding reflexively, he knew this was wrong. He didn't want this to happen and certainly not under these circumstances. He visualised Sandra and knew he wanted this to be happening with her and not Helen. His erection faded and he raised himself back to a sitting position.
Helen looked at him. “What's wrong? Are you feeling okay? Let me help you” she said and placed a hand between his legs wanting to stimulate him back into action.
“I'm fine,” he replied, lifting her hand and holding it in his. “I just think I need to go home. Let's not do something we'll regret later,” he replied, not wanting to seem unkind in his rejection.
“You should phone Colin and tell him you want him back. No, better still, send him a text. That way he'll get the message and there won't be scope for discussion or argument.”
Although Alex had never liked Colin, he knew he had a stabilising influence in the house and it was better for the boys to have him here.
Helen sat up on the couch next him and stared down at the floor. “I'm sorry, I don't know what you must think of me. Colin was hardly out the door and here's me trying to drag you into my bed. I was sad and lonely and was just looking for some comfort.” Her initial feeling of contrition was overtaken by irritation at her rejection. “I should have known better. You always did take the moral high ground. That's the difference between us. I react to my emotions. You don't have any. That's why we're not together anymore.”
The last thing Alex wanted was to get involved in an argument. With a parting comment of “Think what you like, I'm out of here,” he made his way towards the door. He could sense Helen's distress before he turned round to see it. Although he was desperate to get away, not wanting further interaction, he still cared deeply for her. After fourteen years of marriage, he couldn't turn his back. He could see how bitterly upset she was and he sat her back down on the couch, speaking gently to her until she regained her composure. Once satisfied she was back in control, he left and drove home, arriving back at the flat shortly before two am.
He sat on the couch, switched on his stereo to a barely audible level and poured himself a large whisky, rejecting his core principle of not drinking to avoid problems. He convinced himself it wasn't to forget, merely to relax. To support his argument he sipped the drink slowly while thinking about Sandra and the evening it could have been. He remembered she'd asked him to call to let her know Craig was okay but felt it was now too late. Instead he sent a brief text stating, 'Craig home and okay, see you in morning.' He'd been awake and constantly active since the rude wake-up call twenty-one hours before. Maybe it was tiredness, maybe relief or possibly the effect of the alcohol working, but in any event, with the glass still in his hand and half full, he drifted off to sleep fully clothed.
Chapter 14
Alex opened his eyes groggily. He blinked a few times until his watch came into focus, then realised he'd overslept, the first time in years. He often didn't bother with an alarm as he normally woke up early without any assistance. Today, he'd meant to set one to ensure he was ready with plenty of time to spare so he could be in the office to prepare for court. Coming home so late and tired, he'd completely forgotten. He jumped to his feet and dashed to the bathroom. Realising he couldn't take time to shave or have his normal, leisurely shower, he quickly splashed cold water onto his face to help revive him and then he cleaned his teeth. He spotted his whisky glass from the night before sitting on the occasional table beside the couch. He couldn't remember putting it there but it still held a sizable measure of Glenlivet, its warm golden glow enhanced by the sparkling Edinburgh Crystal tumbler. He picked up the glass hesitantly, not wishing to waste it, then ruefully poured it down the sink, but not before warming his lungs by inhaling its rich pungent aroma. He grabbed a bag and threw in a clean shirt, underwear and his travel shaving kit, thinking he could take a few minutes to clean up and change once he arrived in the office. As an afterthought he threw an apple in the bag too. Alex suddenly felt very hungry. He ate a sandwich for lunch the day before, but he'd eaten no solid food since, if you didn't count the couple of peanuts he'd munched in the pub. He didn't want to take his car knowing he wouldn't need it today and parking could be a problem, so he walked briskly to Kilmarnock Road and was lucky to pick up a taxi right away. He'd devoured his apple before they'd travelled more than a mile. Alex took time to flick open his phone and saw two texts from Sandra. The first was from hours ago, timed only seconds after the one he'd sent her. It said, “SO GLAD HES OKAY. BEEN WAITING TO HEAR. WILL I COME OVER. I CAN CALL A CAB.” The second merely asked if he was okay. Alex took a moment to reply, “SO SO SORRY, SLEPT IN, JUST GOT YOUR MESSAGES.” His finger hovered over the buttons for a few seconds more then he typed, “LOVE ALEX.” He stared at the message for several more seconds before whispering to himself “fuck it” then he pressed send.
Arriving at Pitt Street, Alex took the stairs two at a time and raced towards his office. Phil caught sight of him and called across, “Is there something I need to know? First Sandra comes in looking like shit and a face like thunder and now you arrive wearing the same clothes you were in last night and looking like you've been up all night. Just what happened after you two left us last night? Pray tell?”
Ale
x was in no mood for Phil's banter. “Don't push your luck and remember your lowlife position,” he retorted as he retreated into the gents' toilet. He returned less than ten minutes later looking considerably more presentable. He was clean shaven, not as neatly as normal but his facial shadow had now gone. He had washed and he was wearing a fresh, crisply ironed shirt. His suit still looked rather creased and while he fell considerably short of his normal exacting standards, for anyone who didn't know what to expect from him, his look was quite acceptable.
He raced through to his office and packed a number of reports into his briefcase. Alex knew he could be kept waiting at the court for ages and wanted to make best use of the time. He thought he could review his case notes for the trial as well as catching up on developments in the Stevenson, Kerr and other cases he was managing.
Alex was a great believer in teamwork and he prided himself in practicing effective communication with his subordinate officers. He realised his brief dialogue with Morrison fell short and he was more placatory on his return to the office. “Come in here, Phil, for a quick update. Before we start, I shouldn't have snapped at you. Yes, I was up all night. My ex-wife called to say my eldest had gone walkabout and I was up half the night getting him back home and settled. Sandra knew about it and was on standby as she offered to help if needed, but thankfully it wasn't necessary. Now we've got that out the way I need you to tell me what's new before I leave. The car's coming for me in five minutes to take me to the court.”
“I'm really sorry, Boss. I hadn't realised and I shouldn't have tried to make fun. You know what I'm like, always the joker? There was no harm intended. Is Craig okay?”
“He's fine. I don't have time to talk about it now so let's get on.”
“Sandra and Donny have been in and out. They're on their way to Fife. Sanjay's been busy though, he's been studying some of the property paperwork and he may have come up with something useful. The title deeds for the newsagent shop in the West End show that it has a lock-up out the back, at the other side of a lane. Nothing strange about that, but there's no mention of it in the lease to Mr Singh. I've already spoken with Singh and he knows nothing about it, but he said that he sometimes saw someone coming and going. He particularly remembers seeing a young man. I've sent young Frankie Bruce round to see him with some photos, Findlay and Black amongst them, to see if he recognises them and I've also put in an application for a search warrant so we can see what's in there. Who knows, we may have discovered what the other key we found in the safe was for.”
“Sanjay's done really well there and that's good work from you too. Now I'd better be on my way. You know how much I respect Sheriffs, particularly after yesterday.”
“One last thing, we've received the profiler's report. You might want to have a read. Here's a copy to take with you.”
* * *
Sandra and Donny arrived at Dunfermline Police Station and were immediately shown into an interview room. There they were met by Inspector Griffiths, who introduced himself and explained he would sit in on the discussion. “I've sent someone to the control room to relieve Pat and send him down here. As instructed, he has not been informed you were coming and has no knowledge that you've even been in contact. I gather this has something to do with a murder inquiry?”
“Yes, that's right,” Sandra replied, cautious not to reveal anything unnecessarily.
They sat in silence for a couple of more minutes and then there was a knock on the door. “You wanted to see me?”
“Come in, Pat, take a seat. These two officers are from Strathclyde CID and they've asked to have a word with you. They think you may have some information which can help them. This is Detective Sergeant Sandra McKinnon and Detective Constable Donald McAvoy. Officers, for the record, this is Sergeant Patrick Kennedy.”
From the advance checking they did, they knew Kennedy was in his mid-forties but he looked much older. He was of medium height and quite rotund. He had a round, pudgy face with short, grey wisps of hair at his temples and to the back of his head which was otherwise sparse for hair. Sandra had the impression that he had only recently put on a lot of weight as his uniform looked fairly new but its buttons were straining to contain his girth. He reached out his arm to exchange greetings but didn't quite complete the move as his face crumpled and he collapsed into a chair.
“I've known this was coming,” he mumbled. “I take it you're here about Stevenson?”
“Yes, that's right,” Sandra replied, relieved that Kennedy was seeking to unburden himself and she wouldn't have to prise information from him.
Kennedy's eyes were downcast, staring at the floor, he couldn't meet their gaze. “Stevenson was a real bastard. He spent his life looking for people's weaknesses. He'd create temptations for them then slice open their souls and pile salt into the wound. He was the worst type of scum you could ever hope not to come across. I'm glad he's dead. I'd like to thank whoever did it, shake their hand and say thank you.”
“We know all about Stevenson. We've come here to find out about your involvement.”
“There's not much to tell as far as he's concerned, but it's a long story how I came to this.”
“Let's just start at the beginning. We've come to hear what you have to tell us and we're not in any hurry.”
Kennedy took a deep breath and then he started, “I grew up in Glasgow. I come from Cessnock, next to Ibrox. My mother still lives there in a flat on Paisley Road and I visit her once or twice a month. I met my Peggy twenty years ago and after we were married we moved out to Dunfermline 'cause that's where her family hailed from. I joined the police and loved the job. I moved over to CID. I did well and I was promoted to Sergeant. Then ten years ago Peggy took ill. It took a while before she was properly diagnosed, until they realised it was multiple sclerosis. At first it didn't affect her too much, but her mobility was impaired and her dexterity. She stopped working and went for all sorts of treatments. Her condition advanced over time. It wasn't quick, it seemed to happen in stages, there was no rhyme or reason to it, but it's just been getting worse and worse.
“A couple of years ago now, I took a transfer back to uniform so I could work a desk job with more predictable hours. That way I've been able to be available a lot more to help and care for her. The chiefs have been great and made allowances for my needs, letting me plan my shifts well ahead so I could arrange for carers.
“I try to be there for her as much as I can and I love her as much now as on the day we were married, if anything more. But physically, it's not been the same.” Kennedy was leaning forward in his seat, focusing on a spot on the floor between his feet. His head didn't move and tears were running down his cheeks. He swiped them away with his fists, first one side then the other. “This is really difficult to talk about.”
“We know, but we need to hear it all,” Sandra gently coaxed.
“Peggy and I haven't had sex for some time, and much as I'm happy being with her, she needs a lot of rest and sometimes I just felt that I needed company. I started using my computer to meet people to talk to. Often they were on the other side of the world and it didn't seem to matter 'cause I was only looking for the company and to have someone to talk to. But then I found a website that was based in Glasgow. At first I'd go on to talk about anything, the news, politics, sport, just about anything. After a while I started chatting to a girl called Linda and we just seemed to click so I looked for her whenever I logged on. We would talk about anything and everything. I told her about Peggy and she was very sympathetic and understanding. Sometimes the conversation got very saucy, even erotic. I used to sign into the site whenever I had the chance, it was like a drug and I became almost addicted. Sometimes, we'd have these very strange conversations like fantasising about being together. Then she suggested we could set up webcams. When I saw her I got such a surprise, she was beautiful and she was young too and she didn't seem to mind that I was older and well, you know? When she suggested we could meet up in Glasgow, I couldn't wait. I told P
eggy I'd had a call from an old school friend and was going to Glasgow for a reunion and would stay overnight at my Mum's. I arranged for carers to be with Peggy.
“I met up with Linda. I thought we were only going to have dinner together, but she invited me to stay and I wasn't going to say no. The evening was like a dream. We went to bed together and it was just so amazing. I'd never cheated on Peggy before and I never thought I would, but it was like a release of years of pent up tension. I felt guilty afterwards, but I wasn't sorry. Linda and I spoke afterwards on the website and talked about what had happened and about getting together again, but it never happened.
“Instead I got a call from someone insisting they needed to see me. It turned out to be Stevenson and he showed me the pictures he had, pictures of Linda and me. He told me he wanted money or he'd show them to Peggy. I should have reported it and let him do his worst, but I didn't want Peggy upset. I gave him what money I could, just a few hundred, as I couldn't come up with any more. I don't have much to spare as there's a lot of costs involved in Peggy's care and they're not all paid by the NHS or the Social. Stevenson came back and asked for more, and when I told him there wasn't any, he said he'd find another way for me to pay him. I asked what he meant, but I already knew. He said he'd maybe want me to do a favour or two for him.
“I told him that would never happen and he just said we'd see. I kept waiting to see what he'd want, but he never approached me again. I'd made up my mind I'd report him when he came back and maybe try and set him up, but you've only got my word for that as he never came back. I kept thanking God every day I didn't hear from him because it was another day that Peggy didn't have to suffer knowing I'd betrayed her. I suppose it will all come out now?”
“I'm sorry, I can't answer that as it's not my decision,” Sandra replied honestly.