Gallery Whispers

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Gallery Whispers Page 31

by Quintin Jardine


  come out this way, I really am. As I said, I may have done it because

  of you in a way, but I never meant to hurt you by it. Ray didn't mean

  anything to me.'

  'Maybe not, but he sure means something to me. Most men would

  feel very serious about someone fucking their fiancee, you know.

  You're not saying that he didn't know you were engaged, are you?'

  'No. I told him I was.'

  'Jesus! The boy must think I'm a right inadequate prat; he must be

  laughing all over his face. I'll be the talk of the Aberdeen University

  Union bar right now, and so will you.'

  'He's not that sort of guy,' she protested.

  'Crap! He's eighteen, and he's a little toerag. Listen, you go on

  about not wanting to hurt me. Did you ever think about how badly I

  could hurt him?'

  'Andy, you wouldn't! You could break him in two.'

  His laugh was cruel; a sound she had never heard before. 'I wouldn't

  need to lay a finger on him. Clan Pringle told me, just before he forgot

  to mention Weston's horizontal alibi, that he and the Thin Man caught

  the kid with a parcel ofcannabis and a bottle of pills that he'd nicked

  from his old man. Your Ray smokes grass and barters stolen drugs for

  beer with his student pals; bet you didn't know that.

  'Dan's getting soft; he let him off the possession thing with an

  informal caution. I have the power to overrule that decision and have

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  the boy prosecuted for theft and dealing. Minor stuff, I'll grant you,

  but enough to end his University career and give him a record that

  he'd carry for the rest of his life.'

  Alex's Marbella tan paled as he spoke. 'Oh Andy,' she moaned, 'you wouldn't do that to him.'

  'Tell me why not,' he barked. 'If he was some punk from Pilton and

  you were a tart off a street corner Pringle would have sent him down

  the road without a second thought. Why should I give him preferential

  treatment? It's as if I was rewarding him for letting you work off your

  frustrations on his dick.'

  She winced at his expression; then her eyes narrowed. 'And what if

  he stood up in the dock, or went to the papers, and said that he was

  only being prosecuted because of me?'

  He stared back at her. 'People stand in the dock and slag off the

  police all the time, love. Does the thought worry you because it might

  hurt me, embarrass you, or damage your career prospects?'

  She nodded, more to herself than him. 'This discussion's run its

  course, I think.' As she spoke she pulled the engagement ring from

  her finger and laid it on the kitchen work-surface. 'Better luck next

  time,' she said. 'Sorry to have spoiled your Sunday.'

  She started for the door, but he caught her arm. 'Alex, no,' he said.

  'I went too far; I'm sorry.' For a moment she tried to pull free, then

  stopped and let him turn her to face him. 'I'm sorry,' he repeated. 'I

  went over the top there. I am not going to overrule Pringle or do

  anything else to the boy. You just gave me a serious kick in the ego,

  that was all.

  'Look, you told me often enough, but I guess I wasn't listening. I

  had no idea that I was being as possessive and as constricting as that,

  but I suppose I have to take some of the blame for what's happened.

  Remember that daft thing I said ten days ago in the pub, about not

  sharing you with you? Well forget it, please. Of course you've got to

  have your own space - up to a point. By that I mean that you can sleep

  anywhere you like as long as I'm the only person you sleep with. Can

  you handle that small restriction?'

  She looked up at him with a curious, soft smile. 'Are you saying

  that you'll forgive me, if I promise not to do it again?'

  He drew a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, and grinned. 'I suppose

  I am.'

  Well,' she said, 'since you're in a forgiving mood, let me try you

  with something else.

  'Over the last few months, I've had a hard time sorting out my

  ambitions. You made your agenda perfectly clear, and that meant that

  I had to think about mine, before I was anything like ready to do so.

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  For a very little while, earlier on this year, I thought "Yes, let's put the

  career on hold. Let's have our family and get it over with." So for a

  month I stopped taking my pill.

  'After a very short time, I realised that that was not what I wanted.

  However, it only takes a second as they say. I fell pregnant, Andy. At

  the very time when you were going on about wanting kids now, while

  you were still young enough to play hide and seek with them, and I

  was just working out what I felt about the whole thing, I was stupid

  enough to get myself knocked up.

  'I thought long and hard about it. Should I tell you, should I keep

  the baby, should I talk to Sarah, should I .. .' As she paused for a

  second or two, he felt the tension build up within him once more.

  'Are you going to tell me . ..' he began.

  'In the end I decided not to talk to anyone, since I knew quite well

  what I had to do. I had a termination, Andy. On the day after I moved

  out of here, I went into the Eastern General and had it done.'

  He felt the rage well up within him; far different in intensity to the

  anger he had felt when she had confessed her indiscretion a quarter of

  an hour earlier. His eyes were blurred as he looked at her; he felt his

  muscles tense. He wanted to hit her, not just once, but many times; he

  wanted to beat her insensible, then go on beating her until his strength

  was gone. His mouth opened, then closed, trying to form words.

  He turned away from her, and held on to the work surface, tight,

  struggling with his wrath, until he had it under control.

  'You are telling me,' he whispered, when he could, 'that you were

  pregnant with our child, and you had it killed.'

  'I had conceived and I had a termination,' she murmured in reply.

  'Don't bandy words with me, girl. You were carrying my baby and

  you had it snuffed.' He turned back towards her. 'You didn't even tell

  me about it. You didn't involve me in the decision. Why in God's

  name not?'

  'Because I knew what would happen. I knew the argument we

  would have. I knew that your beliefs wouldn't let you listen to me,

  and that you would forbid it, or try to. I guessed that if I had told you

  about it, then made my own decision, we'd be finished. So I went

  ahead, with the intention that you would never find out.

  'But yesterday afternoon, when I was speaking to Pops, I realised

  that I had to tell you about it. I saw that if we were going to have a life

  together ... and I really did want that. . . then everything had to be

  out in the open.'

  'But you didn't tell me when it mattered,' he repeated, desperately.

  'You kept our kid a secret because you knew that what you wanted to

  do ran contrary to my upbringing and to my belief.'

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  'It's my body we're talking about here, Andy,' she countered. 'I am

  sorry, truly, but no one, be he husband, lover or anyone else has the

  right to tell me what I will do with it. I will only ever have a child

  when
I want, and with whom I want. I always wanted to have a family

  with you, my love: but... not... yet.

  'When I had my termination, it was with us in mind, long-term.'

  'Don't give me that,' he spat back at her, bitterly. 'You had my baby

  killed because it was in your way.

  'That investigation that Brian and Clan are working on: they're

  looking for someone who's been helping people to kill themselves.

  When they find him, he'll be charged with murder, and found guilty;

  quite right too, because that's what it is. From where I stand, I can't

  see much difference between you and him.

  'I could forgive your fling with the boy: that's easy. But not this, no

  way.'

  Alex picked up the ring from the worktop, and slipped it into the

  breast pocket of his shirt. 'I came here for confession, my dear, not

  forgiveness. It's the fact that you think you have the right to forgive

  that's persuaded me, finally, that we have no future together.'

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  82

  'I hope this temporary office is okay for you. Chief Inspector. Our

  uniformed colleagues aren't too pleased with me for pulling rank to

  have two of their inspectors moved in together for a while.'

  Brian Mackie grinned round the door at his deputy. Her right arm

  was in a protective plastic casing, but she was using it nonetheless,

  arranging folders into piles on the room's small table.

  'I hope you didn't carry those in here,' he said.

  'No chance,' Maggie Rose replied, putting the last small group of

  files in place on the table. 'Mario carried them up for me.'

  'How's he doing these days?'

  'He'll be happier once next week's conference is behind him. It's

  the sort of routine vetting and accreditation work that bores him silly.'

  The superintendent shrugged. 'Not all paths to glory run across

  easy ground,' he laughed, pointing at the bundles on the table. 'I can

  guess what those things are. Your homework for the last couple of

  weeks, yes?'

  'Yes indeed: three hundred and more sad stories. I finished my

  trawl through them on Saturday.'

  'And have you come up with anything?'

  She wrinkled her nose in a typical gesture. 'There's no single case

  here there that leapt out at me. I was going to give you a report this

  morning, but if you've got time now...'

  'Sure,' said Mackie. 'Why not?' He closed the door behind him and

  sat down, as she picked up the small bundle of folders and took her

  place behind her desk.

  'How's the main investigation going?' she asked, casually.

  A pained expression crossed his face. 'Dead in the bloody water

  again, thanks to a phone call I had from the boss at the weekend.'

  'What, from Andy?'

  'No. From the Big Boss; he's been overseeing the investigation for

  the last ten days or so, which is just as well. Clan and I happened upon

  a strong suspect for both deaths, Gaynor Weston's son, no less. We

  thought we had him until he came out with an alibi for number two, a

  story which Big Bob's call on Saturday evening confirmed.

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  'While Anthony Murray was breathing his last, Raymond Weston

  was under the duvet with the Head ofCID's fiancee.'

  Rose looked at him, momentarily stunned. 'Alex? He was with

  Alex Skinner?'

  Mackie nodded. 'She confirmed it when she got back from holiday.

  And that, Mags, is now one of the deepest darkest secrets of this

  department. Apart from Bob, Alex and now, I guess, Andy, only Clan,

  Stevie Steele, you and I know about this, and that's the way it will

  stay. The report will be going into the DCC's safe and it will stay

  there.'

  'Weston knows,' murmured Maggie. 'Ray Weston knows. What if

  he brags about it?'

  'After the chat Clan and Stevie had with him, he won't be breathing

  a word, believe me. All that aside, though, it looks as if the kid's in the

  clear - apart from having made himself just about the worst enemy

  you could imagine - and we've got a stalled investigation: unless you

  can kick-start it, that is.'

  'I wish I could help you, Brian,' she said. 'But I don't think so. I've

  been through every one of these over the last few weeks. There's not a

  single case in here where self-suffocation was the cause of death. I

  began by sorting them into categories as I was going through, by the

  method used in each case. I tell you, people come up with some awful

  ways to top themselves.

  'That didn't take me any further really, other than to confirm that

  there wasn't a single case of overdose linked with asphyxia among the

  files I was checking. So I went through them all again, looking at the

  background circumstances of each victim. Most of them were related

  to depression or hopelessness, arising from a range of causes: mental

  illness, debt, marriage break-up were the most common. However I

  did find some where serious or terminal illness had been the reason

  for the suicide, and I separated them out.' She lifted up the pile of

  folders. Mackie guessed that there were around thirty of them.

  'Once I had done that,' Rose continued. 'I looked at the methods

  used. Some hanged themselves, one woman jumped off Salisbury

  Crags; predominantly though, the victims overdosed. They used a

  variety of drugs, in pill or liquid form, and the overwhelming majority

  combined these with large quantities of alcohol. With one single

  exception, in fact, the fatal substances were taken by mouth.'

  She picked up the file which lay on top of the heap on her desk.

  'Out of all of these reports, this is the only one where the person

  injected herself. I don't think it's a winner, though. The victim was a

  woman from Bathgate named Nicola Marston. She had inoperable cancer of the liver, with secondaries in most of her other major organs.

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  In addition to that, she was an insulin-dependent diabetic. She killed

  herself by injecting four times the normal dose.'

  'Let's have a look,' said Mackie, taking the folder from his deputy.

  He laid it on the desk and leaned over it, shoulders hunched, reading

  carefully. It took him over five minutes to read statements which were

  stacked together in the thick report, and finally, the investigating

  officer's summary report to the Procurator Fiscal. When he had

  finished, he scanned through the documents once more.

  'I guess you're right, Mags,' he grunted as he closed the file. 'The

  only common factor linking the three cases is that all the victims are

  single people, living alone and suffering from terminal illness. The

  consultant in this case, Derek Simmers, is the same man who looked

  after Anthony Murray, but that isn't relevant since all cancer patients

  in our area are referred to the same small group of consultants.' He

  picked up the papers as he stood.

  'I'm going up to Fettes this morning for the divisional CID heads'

  meeting. The DCC's taking it himself today, so I'll let him see it. I

  don't think it'll make his morning though.'

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  83

  'Looks like that's it then, gentlemen,' sighed Skinner. He was as

  frustrated
as the two superintendents. 'I agree with Maggie's view that

  the Bathgate case doesn't fit with the other two, so there's no sense in

  upsetting the family involved by raking the whole thing up again.'

  'It'd be difficult anyway, sir,' said Mackie. 'There's a note on the

  file saying that the body had been released for cremation.'

  'Doesn't make any difference.' The DCC held up the folder for a

  moment. 'There's nothing here which would have given us grounds to

  ask for an exhumation order. No, I'm afraid that for all your sterling

  efforts, we're back to square one. All the bloody aggravation has been

  for nothing.'

  He glanced across the desk, and to his left at Neil Mcllhenney.

  'Since you two know the facts of the case, and since you have to work

  with him, I'll tell you this. Neil, you haven't been involved in this

  inquiry - in fact you know bugger all about it - but you're my right-

  hand man so you should hear this too.

  'Andy Martin and my daughter have decided to end their engagement.

  I would tread carefully around the Head of CID for a bit; he's

  feeling very sore about it. Fortunately he's got the conference

  preparations to keep him distracted.'

  'He's not feeling sore at us, is he, sir?' asked Pringle, a touch

  anxiously.

  'Of course not. Nor is there any reason why he should. You guys

  did a very professional job.'

  'We could have buried it, boss,' said Mackie. 'When the Weston lad

  gave us Alex's name in his alibi... I mean, the evidence against them

  was all pretty tenuous by that time ... we could simply have sent him

  and the girl home and forgotten all about it.'

  'No you couldn't.' Skinner jabbed the folder with a finger,

  emphasising his words. 'It was there; it had to be followed through

  and confirmed. If the boy had been lying he'd have been firmly in the

  frame. He wasn't though, so it looks like we've run into the buffers agam. With the two kids eliminated as suspects, aside from the

  coincidence of the consultant Simmers having treated both Murray

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  and the Bathgate woman, as far as I can see we're stuffed.'

  Mackie nodded. 'Short of finding this mystery man Deacey, I'd say

  we are boss. And even if he walked off the street right now and gave

  himself up--'

  'Wait a minute!'The urgency ofMcIlhenney's interruption cut him

 

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