by Helen Fields
‘I don’t mean go away. Just tell me what it is you need as quickly as possible. What am I, surrounded by idiots?’ Overbeck asked as she screwed up a sheet of paper and slammed it into the wastebasket.
‘We’re no closer to locating Lorna Shaw,’ Ava began. She paused, waiting for Overbeck’s inevitable tirade. The superintendent circled a hand in the air. ‘DI Callanach went to reinterview her mother today. There were no new leads. I’d like to make further enquiries, however, in the facial slashing cases. A key dropped at the second crime scene indicates that a student from the Leverhulme School might have been in the area and witnessed something, or possibly even have been involved.’
Overbeck peered over the mound of files. ‘Leverhulme?’
‘Yes, ma’am. DS Lively and I attended there yesterday evening and identified the relevant locker. It belongs to a student called Leo Plunkett. We spoke to him at his home and I got the impression he knew more than he was telling us. I’d like to pursue the line of enquiry at the school.’
Overbeck sat upright in her chair and glared at Ava. ‘You got the impression he knew more than he was telling you,’ she repeated.
‘That’s correct,’ Ava said.
‘Some specifics as to how you reached your conclusion might be useful,’ Overbeck said, taking off her reading glasses and studying Ava’s face.
‘Leo was smirking, cocky. He asked how bad the victim’s injuries were. I didn’t think he was as surprised by our visit as he should have been, and he had a story already prepared about the lost key, as if he knew he might have to explain it.’
‘So to summarise, this Plunkett boy was able to answer your questions comprehensively. He engaged with you and showed an interest in the victim. Oh, and he was displaying all the signs of being an overconfident, privileged teenager.’
‘I just feel as if there’s more below the surface …’
‘For Christ’s sake, woman, you want to go rampaging through the most expensive school in Edinburgh based on a dropped locker key? What did the boy say about the key, exactly?’ Overbeck snapped.
‘That he goes through the Meadows regularly and was aware that he’d dropped it at some stage. He’s been meaning to request a replacement.’
‘And you think he’s lying because?’
‘Intuition, ma’am,’ Ava said.
Overbeck stood up. At five foot ten the effect was dramatic, enhanced by ridiculous heels and a stick-thin figure.
‘DCI Turner, describe in as few words as possible the witnesses who drew your attention to this key.’
‘Homeless, alcoholic, possible drug users, poor lighting,’ Ava said. ‘Ma’am, I know what the limitations are here, but if you’d seen Leo Plunkett answering my questions last night …’
‘Not one more word. Your instincts count for nothing. Go into that school again and there will be hell to pay. Leo Plunkett’s father owns the tech company that provides most of Edinburgh’s governmental IT backup. Every parent with a child at that school is connected in a way that you, of all people, should understand, given your family background. There will be a living wall of lawyers around this place before you can apologise. None of our jobs will be safe if you piss off that many people at once, and on what basis? On the word of a bunch of drunks who may or may not have seen something, and all because a teenager had the temerity to fucking smirk at you? Jesus wept, is that really the best you’ve got?’ She was at fever pitch. It was all Ava could do not to cover her ears. Overbeck took a deep breath in and blew it out at the ceiling. ‘So in summary,’ she continued softly, ‘you do not have my permission to continue making enquiries with the school. You can place undercover officers on the streets. You can use all the CCTV facilities the city has to offer. You could even try good old-fashioned police work, taking statements, photofits, the usual. But you don’t go near that school. Do you hear me?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Ava said.
Overbeck smiled. ‘Good chat,’ she said. ‘Now get the fuck out of my office and don’t ever make me yell like that again.’
Ava went, all too aware that the cessation of yelling was only temporary, and that the next time it would be substantially louder.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Jonty,’ Callanach said, transferring his mobile to his left hand and picking up a takeaway coffee from the counter with his right. ‘What’s the news?’
‘We identified a substance that was widespread across Zoey’s abdomen and back, mixed in with the chemical designed to thicken the skin. It’s all over the doll, too. It’s a topical anaesthetic but quite high grade. It’s often used on the backs of children’s hands at the hospital before the nurse inserts a cannula, or for nervous patients with low pain thresholds who don’t like injections. The amount we’ve identified across the skin indicates that it was being spread over the victim for a few days repeatedly before the incisions were made.’
‘So how much pain would Zoey have felt as her skin was cut?’ Callanach asked quietly, leaving the coffee shop to dive into a street doorway. There were some conversations that no one beyond their scope of work should have to listen to. Quite often, he wished he didn’t have to ask the questions, either.
‘The initial incisions would have been relatively painless, I think, but lower in the skin, when the layer of the dermis was pulled away, that would have been excruciating. There were, however, some traces of an opioid painkiller found in her system. It seems likely she was given Valium prior to the operation being performed, which would explain why the cuts were so precise and clean,’ Jonty replied.
Callanach took a sip of coffee as he thought about it. ‘I don’t get it,’ he said. ‘If the aim was to torture, why administer Valium and anaesthetise the skin?’
‘Add to that the impressive wound packing, which is commonly available in bulk from online pharmacies. It seems the killer didn’t want death to be immediate. Zoey was always going to die from her wounds. It was inevitable and would have been obvious to whoever did this, but they worked hard to keep her alive for a while,’ Jonty said. ‘Wherever you are, it sounds chaotic.’
‘On my way to the mother and baby unit. Ava’s there and we need to regroup and agree next steps. I just stopped to grab a coffee. What’s your assessment of Zoey’s death, Jonty, knowing what you know now?’
‘If anything, it’s the lack of rage that’s so disturbing. Criminals who work with human skin are specialised and obsessive. Sociopathic to the point of zero emotion. It’s as if all human functioning is void. Almost every normal human emotion is pretended,’ Jonty replied. His voice was hushed and lacking its usual buoyancy.
‘And the prospects for Lorna?’ Callanach asked.
‘You don’t need me to quantify that, Luc. You knew the answer the second you saw the doll in her baby’s pram.’
Back at the mother and baby unit, Callanach paused in the corridor, taking a step backwards out of sight, knowing he shouldn’t watch but unwilling to break the moment between Ava and the baby. Tansy was snuffling against Ava’s chest, doing her best to clutch the bottle Ava was holding for her. Ava was walking as she fed her, rocking her slightly and humming. Callanach wished he could freeze time. He’d never seen Ava smile like that before. She was the most practical woman he knew, almost incapable of self-pity, tough without sacrificing gentleness. She always spoke her mind. He’d never considered what she was giving up to pursue her career in Police Scotland – not that she would have considered it a compromise. The work she did was everything to her. Yet here she was, looking blissful and at peace. She would hate it if she could hear his thoughts, he knew, laced as they were with centuries old, inbuilt misogyny, but he couldn’t help feeling a surge of alpha male protectiveness towards her as she held the tiny, motherless creature.
A nurse entered the room from a different doorway, handing over a muslin cloth for Ava to wipe the baby’s chin.
‘Has there been any response to my query about fostering?’ Ava asked her.
‘The unit director is sp
eaking to the social workers,’ the nurse responded. Callanach took a step further back into the corridor. ‘It’s a long and technical process, with a lot of safety checks, but police officers already have enhanced security clearance, which should speed things up.’
‘So it’s just a question of putting in the application?’ Ava asked.
‘Yes,’ the nurse said. ‘We would make sure the matter was handled swiftly from our end to make sure the baby gets a good home as soon as possible. She really can’t stay here much longer.’
‘I’ll get on it,’ Ava said. She put Tansy over her shoulder and began to gently rub then pat her back.
Callanach wished he hadn’t listened in. It was clear breach of trust, one he couldn’t possibly admit, and yet he wanted to talk to Ava about her enquiry. He entered the room at a brisk pace, taking her by surprise.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I was told I’d find you here. I need to update you on a couple of things.’
‘Of course,’ Ava said. ‘Here you go,’ she muttered, handing the baby back to the nurse with a wistful glance. ‘Shall we go outside? There’s a courtyard for the mums to take the babies out for air, but it catches some autumn sun and it’s private enough.’
No one else was braving the oncoming wintry edge to the air. They huddled together on a bench and looked into the watery blue above. There weren’t many few clear days left until cloud took control of the horizon, but the season was milder than normal. Ava shut her eyes.
‘You’re not here because there’s been progress,’ she said. ‘You’d have phoned me for that.’
‘Lorna’s wallet, believed to have been in her pocket when she went to the shops, was found at a roadside. Looks as if it was thrown out of a car window, perhaps by Lorna herself if she was forced into a vehicle. A street cleaner picked it up and handed it in at five this morning. Her photo ID was in it with a picture of the baby. No doubt at all that it’s hers.’
‘So all hope that she had some sort of breakdown and decided to run away is gone,’ Ava said.
‘It has,’ Callanach said. ‘That’s what her mother was clinging on to, between drug binges. She’s convinced herself that her daughter was never up to the task of parenting and wanted out.’
‘Still no leads on any possible vehicle used in the kidnapping?’ Ava asked.
‘No. It was a busy day on the roads. There was no CCTV in the immediate area where the baby was left. We suspect the road was carefully checked for exactly that reason. Jonty phoned with the forensic results this morning. Anaesthetic was applied to Zoey’s skin and a strong painkiller was given to her before the cutting began. So why did the killer let her go? What was the point in allowing the body to be found? It just increases the chance of being captured.’
Ava bent her neck right then left, rubbing the knots out with one hand. Callanach heard the clicks as she moved and wondered if she’d spent the whole night at her desk.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I abduct Zoey. I’ve prepared a space to keep her restrained. It has to be soundproof or with no neighbours who might overhear, as I’m going to feed her regularly and I don’t want her to scream and create interest in what I’m doing.’
‘And you’ve got supplies in advance. Plenty of wound padding, scalpel blades, prescription-only painkillers,’ Callanach said.
‘So I know what I’m intending to do. The doll is the motivation. Why not just deliver the doll somewhere it will be publicly found? DNA tests would soon link it to a missing person. Why keep Zoey alive in the meantime? Surely killing her before taking the skin would have made the whole thing easier,’ Ava responded.
‘There’s a lot of extra effort involved in keeping Zoey alive, so it must fulfil a purpose. It has meaning for the killer, those last few hours or minutes he gives her,’ Callanach said.
‘So I pack her wounds. She’s dying, but I put her in my vehicle, with all the additional risk that involves. Her DNA will be everywhere, probably visible blood. If I’m stopped for any reason, there’ll be no hiding it. Then I leave her at the roadside to be found later, possibly even run over in the dark, like I’m throwing trash out of my car window. The girl’s the trash. It’s a public statement.’
‘So is the killer waiting for more of the details to break in the news?’ Callanach said.
‘It’s a lot of trouble to go to with no payback, and the self-righteousness is in keeping with the message inside the doll,’ Ava said.
‘But the doll’s a different thing,’ Callanach said. ‘It feels even more personal. There are any number of ways the killer could have sent that same message, and yet he or she chose to create a morbid imitation of a child’s toy.’
‘True,’ Ava said. ‘The killer could have stencilled directly onto Zoey’s skin if they just wanted to leave their mark.’
‘So there are two elements. One, Zoey’s body was left for shock value – there was no possibility of us keeping it out of the news. Two, the doll. That’s for the killer. A reference only they truly understand,’ Callanach said. He paused, looking at the dark circles beneath Ava’s eyes, wondering when she’d last eaten. ‘Lorna’s almost out of time.’
‘I know,’ Ava said. ‘Waiting for a body to appear is the single worst part of policing. You think there’ll always be leads, that you’ll be proactive every time. No one tells you it’s the waiting that will haunt you when you look back on the cases you’ve done. Those hours when you’re sure you missed something, and you end up sitting around until the next trip to the mortuary. I can’t bring myself to think about what that girl’s going through right now.’
Callanach reached out and put his hands over Ava’s, more for his own sake than hers. A year earlier, human contact would have been the last thing he wanted. Then he’d resettled in Edinburgh, Ava had befriended him, and he’d slowly regained his faith in people. She wrapped the ends of her fingers around his, staring into the distance.
‘What about the slashings? Where do they fit into this picture?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know. At first it all felt linked. Now I’m not so sure that wasn’t just wishful thinking – solve one case, solve them both. Running up to someone so high they can’t even feel their face and leaving a gash in it, however brutal, is a far cry from being able to ignore the desperate pleas of a young woman who knows she’s staring death in the face. The slashings feel more like an act of cowardice. What’s being done to these young women is nothing short of pure evil.’
Callanach’s mobile rang. He answered it with his free hand, murmuring into the phone. ‘Hey, Selina. I’m with Ava, talking through a case.’
He paused as Selina spoke. Ava slipped her hand out of his and walked to the other side of the courtyard, picking the last stubborn summer flower from a bush and inspecting its petals. Callanach watched her as Selina talked.
‘I can’t tonight, I’m afraid. I’ll be working all evening,’ he said.
Ava took her own mobile from her pocket and began checking her text messages.
‘No, don’t bother bringing me food,’ Callanach said. ‘Someone from the squad will organise a takeaway, but thanks. Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow evening, okay?’ He rang off.
‘You don’t need to do that,’ Ava said. ‘There’s no point in you staying at the station half the night. We’ve got nothing to go on. If anything new comes in, I can call you at home.’
‘What about you?’ Callanach asked. ‘How many hours have you spent in your own bed this week?’
‘There’s not much point me lying there awake,’ Ava replied. Alone, a small voice corrected her. There’s not much point in lying there alone. ‘Staying at your desk comes with the promotion at times like these. Plus, you have someone to go home to.’
‘It’s only casual. No more than a friendship, really,’ Callanach said.
‘Isn’t that how all relationships start?’ Ava asked. She checked her watch. ‘I have to get back to the station. I’m briefing a unit to go out on the streets and watch the city’s Spice users, see if we ca
n’t catch whoever’s targeting them in action. Needle in a haystack, but it’s more than I’m achieving on Lorna’s behalf. What about you?’
‘We’re filming a reconstruction of Lorna’s disappearance this afternoon,’ Callanach said. ‘Salter and Tripp are organising it now that we’ve found her wallet, too. Gives us firmer geography. It’ll be aired as soon as it’s edited. Hopefully it’ll jog some memories. What’ll happen to the baby, do you think?’
‘I’m still hoping against the odds that she’ll end up seeing her mother again,’ Ava said.
‘In reality?’ Callanach asked, knowing he was prying, too curious about the question he’d overheard Ava ask earlier to be able to stop himself.
‘She’ll be found a new home. A foster carer until the situation is clearer, then adoption. It won’t be hard to find someone to love her,’ Ava said. ‘Tansy’s beautiful.’
Callanach stood up. ‘Do you never think about having children?’ he asked.
‘Because I’m a woman, and it’s what I should be thinking about at this age?’ Ava asked.
‘Actually because you’re kind and loving, and have more to offer a child than most people,’ Callanach said.
‘I’m not sure I’m up to the task,’ she said. ‘Police work turns you into an emotional sieve. You start off with so much hope and good intention. Little by little it runs out of you and you’re left with only the hard bits of yourself. Some days I think I’d like motherhood, though. Being able to do one single job well for just one other person, but the years keep rolling by, and the weeks disappear into case files. I’m in my mid thirties. I can’t keep the food in my fridge in date, Luc. How the hell am I supposed to nurture a long-term relationship, let alone become a parent?’ She shook her head. ‘That’s enough of that. Good luck with the filming. Let’s hope it makes a difference.’
She left the courtyard, calling to a nurse as she walked back into the unit. Callanach waited until she’d disappeared before exiting. He hadn’t really thought about the issue of his impotence in terms of anything but the loss of sex before. He was amazed that he hadn’t considered the longer term. It was only seeing Ava with the baby and hearing her talk about parenthood that had suddenly changed his perception of his problem. Unless he could conquer his post-traumatic stress disorder and function as a man again, there would be no fatherhood for him. No seeing his wife hold their baby for the first time. No late-night feeds while the rest of the world slept quietly. No teaching a child to ride a bike or to swim, no helping with homework or worrying when they were late home. Wherever Lorna was right now, she would be thinking the same thoughts about her daughter’s future and the milestones she would miss, he thought, only her baby wasn’t some distant dream. She was flesh and blood, and she needed a parent. No wonder Ava had been making enquiries about fostering her. He left, unable to resist checking on Tansy one more time, just as Lorna was being given the pills that would dull her final pain.