by Ed James
She glanced at it. ‘That cop was playing a game on his phone.’
Hunter felt a sting in his guts, digging deep in. ‘Nevertheless, you still ran away. Why?’
‘I heard what you said to Mum. The doctor didn’t find anything. Doug was going to get away with it.’ Stephanie rubbed her cheek, a single tear sliding around her fingers. ‘It took everything I had to tell Mum. Everything and you were going to let him go.’
‘Yesterday morning, I found you at Gaynor Tait’s flat and you ran away again.’ Hunter scratched his scabby crown. ‘After I was assaulted.’
Stephanie started twirling her hair around her fingers, knotting it like an old telephone cable. ‘You know I was abducted.’
‘Who abducted you?’
Stephanie let go of her hair and it bounced up before settling in front of her left eye.
‘It was Neil Alexander, wasn’t it? I assume he took you to that house in Shawfair from Corstorphine. Is that right?’
‘It wasn’t him.’
‘So who was it?’
‘I told you I never saw their face. They were going to kill mum! I told you it must’ve been one of Doug’s mates. Dave or that pervy one with the huge head.’
‘David Boyle is in custody and Alexander Wishart was released from hospital this morning. It wasn’t them who attacked myself and a colleague outside Ms Tait’s flat. It was Mr Alexander, wasn’t it?’
‘I told you. I never saw his face!’
‘You did. He gave you a knife and you were going to stab Doug Ferguson with it.’
Stephanie shut her eyes and wiped at a stray tear. ‘Neil kidnapped me.’
‘Really?’ Hunter slid the Facebook messages across the desk to between her and the lawyer. ‘In that case, I’d like you to explain message fourteen there. Marked at three eighteen yesterday afternoon.’
‘I’ve never seen that.’ Stephanie didn’t even look at the page.
‘We got that off your laptop. It’s from your Facebook account.’
‘Well, someone’s hacked into it.’
‘If that’s the case, what else did they do there?’ Hunter let the silence grow in the room. ‘No, whoever it was sent a message taking great joy in the death of Robert Quarrie. Your father.’
‘No.’
Hunter stabbed a finger at the page. ‘This kind of suggests it.’
‘That’s it?’ Stephanie looked up, peeking up like a rat in a hole. ‘That’s all you’ve got?’
‘Well, there’s this as well.’ Hunter slid over the page of CCTV footage. ‘This item shows Mr Alexander getting into a red Hyundai outside the Tesco in Corstorphine.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Ten minutes later it was here.’ Hunter produced a second sheet, taken in the gloomy rain and almost catching the school playground in the distance. ‘Just outside your father’s house in Cramond. And that’s at five past three.’ He left another long pause. ‘Right about when he was stabbed.’
Stephanie kept staring at the evidence, breathing fast and loud. She reached over to whisper in her lawyer’s ear.
Reynolds shook his head, hands raised, eyes bulging. ‘No. That’s not a good idea.’
Stephanie slumped her shoulders and fell back, arms folded.
Hunter took the sheets back. ‘We understand you instigated your relationship with Neil, is that right?’
Stephanie twisted her face to the side. ‘Who told you that?’
‘We got it from a couple of sources. You didn’t approach Mr Alexander and suggest killing your father, did you?’
‘Neil started it.’
Reynolds reached over and grabbed Stephanie’s sleeve. ‘I really—’
‘It was all—’
‘Stephanie—’
‘Neil—’
‘No, you can’t—’
‘Neil was behind it.’ Stephanie shrugged off her lawyer’s warning grip. ‘It was all his idea.’
Reynolds slouched low and tossed his pen onto the desk. ‘Great…’
‘When I told Neil about what… About what Doug had been doing to me, he just got so angry. I’ve never seen anyone like that.’
‘So Mr Alexander suggested you kill your father and your stepfather?’
‘He didn’t suggest anything.’ She snorted. ‘He just said we’re doing it.’
‘And you went along with it?’
‘Didn’t feel like I had any choice. I loved him, but he…’ She ran a hand through her hair. ‘He was too intense for me. Kept saying I was older than my age, but … sometimes I feel like I’m about six years old.’
‘I understand that.’ Jain gave her a smile. ‘Stephanie, you’ve had a very difficult life. Being abused by your father when you’re a child, it’s a lot to happen to anyone and you clearly need to speak to someone.’
‘I’ve got a counsellor.’ Stephanie raised her shoulders. ‘But she’s rubbish. Doesn’t help any of the…’ She bunched up a sheet of paper, crumpling it into a tight ball. ‘She doesn’t help with what happened to me. What Doug did to me. What my own father did to me…’
Jain placed a hand on the table, not too far from Stephanie’s, but nowhere near touching. ‘I understand…’
‘How the hell can you?’ Stephanie nibbled at her lips and glared at Jain. ‘You know something? My father called me up out of the blue. One day when Mum and Da— Mum and Doug were out. He said he was sorry.’ She shook her head, fire burning in her eyes, the same as it would with her mother. ‘How can you be sorry for shagging your own daughter? For pinning me down and raping me when I WAS SIX YEARS OLD!’ She sat there, panting, then wiped spittle from around her mouth. ‘He might’ve served his time, but Robert Quarrie deserves everything he’s got.’
‘You’re saying he deserved to die?’
Stephanie thumped the table. ‘I was six when he started it. Do you know what that feels like? The man was a beast. They should’ve locked away the key when they put him away.’ She shook her head, nostrils flaring. ‘But no, they let him out, didn’t they?’ She stared into space for a few seconds, her eyes twitching. ‘Mum didn’t tell me he was out. Said he was dead. Had to find out myself on the internet.’
‘Did Neil kill him?’
‘I wasn’t there.’ Stephanie picked up the picture of Neil outside Quarrie’s flat. ‘You can see that, right?’
There goes the accessory to murder charge…
Jain steepled her fingers in front of her. ‘Doug denies abusing you, Stephanie.’
‘What? He fucked me! Over and over again.’ Stephanie thumped the table again, sending ripples across the surface of her water. ‘Any time Mum was out, his fingers were all over me. Inside me. Everywhere!’
‘It’s just your word against his.’ Jain tilted her head to the side. ‘We don’t have any evidence to support your claim.’ She held Stephanie’s gaze as long as the girl would allow. ‘Stephanie, did Mr Ferguson abuse you?’
‘How dare you?’ Tears started flowing down Stephanie’s cheeks. ‘Of course he did. He made me go on the pill so I didn’t get pregnant.’ She shook her head. ‘He was just the same as my father. Worse. Doug has a temper, especially when he’s had a drink. I thought he was going to kill Mum, I really did. And then I’d be next, wouldn’t I?’ Her focus tightened around Jain. ‘Doug was beating up mum before he started abusing me.’
‘I know it’s hard, but I appreciate your honesty, Stephanie.’ Jain reached across the table and gripped the girl’s fingers tight. For the first time, Stephanie didn’t flinch, just let her do it. ‘The problem is, Mr Ferguson has an alibi for Monday night when you said he raped you.’
Stephanie yanked her fingers away. ‘What?’
‘Mr Ferguson said he was in the pub all night. We’ve backed it up with some regulars there and CCTV. It’s why we had to let him go yesterday.’
‘But…’ Stephanie attacked a stray frond of hair, pulling it until it was straight. She was panting like a dog after a long run. ‘Look. He came into my room whe
n he got home from the pub. Mum was in bed, whacked up on her Valium. Da— Doug came into my room. He-he-he stuck a hand over my mouth and pinned my arms down, just like…’ She collapsed forward, her torso racking with each heavy sob. ‘Just like Daddy did…’
‘I believe you, Stephanie.’ Jain gripped her fingers again, tight. ‘We’re going to prosecute Douglas Ferguson. But we’ll have to investigate you for your part in this.’
‘It was all Neil… All of it.’ Stephanie looked up and nodded. ‘One thing I want you to know… I didn’t start this. Any of it. I tried to stop…’ Her hair was plastered to her forehead. ‘I tried to stop Neil. Tried to persuade him not to do it. But he just shut me up. Like they all do. Just said we’re doing it. That’s it. I said I didn’t want to murder anyone… Neil said my dad’s out of prison now. Been out for years. Said it’ll be the same with Doug, if you even manage to prosecute him. They never pay in full. Never enough.’ She gasped. ‘He’s just like them. Just forced me to go along with what he wanted, didn’t care about me and what I need.’
Hunter looked round at Jain, a thick lump catching in his throat. She’d been right. Silenced and bullied and abused, her mind and soul as much as her body. Stephanie was a victim in so many ways.
Is a victim.
Not a dead body but a real person carrying this shit through the rest of her life.
Every single day.
Mountcastle Green was deadly quiet outside. Dowsed in bright sunshine, the summer back after a brief interlude. Could almost believe Edinburgh was a nice place.
Hunter sat in the chair in the sitting room and smiled at Pauline Ferguson. ‘Stephanie is giving my colleagues a detailed statement regarding her abuse at the hands of Mr Ferguson.’
‘Right.’ Pauline lay back on the sofa and snarled. ‘That boy who was here, the one that makes the shite tea, he said Neil stabbed Doug. Is that right?’
‘That’s correct.’
Pauline scowled over at the window, the tears soaking her cheeks shimmered in the second-hand glow. After a few seconds she shook her head. ‘Are you going to prosecute Steph?’
‘I don’t know. She was Mr Alexander’s accomplice.’ Jain sighed. ‘She should’ve given us a statement on Tuesday. As it stands, it’s just Stephanie’s word against Mr Ferguson’s. Even so, we intend to prosecute Mr Ferguson and we have the support of the Procur—’
‘Is she lying?’
Hunter glanced over at Jain. Her expression could curdle cheese. ‘I don’t believe she is, no. Mr Ferguson was—’
‘See that stuff Steph said about Doug? When was it?’
‘Well, Stephanie told us Mr Ferguson abused her on Monday after he came home from the pub. Is that true?’
‘Doug was out at the pub watching the football. I didn’t hear him come back.’
‘She told us he… visited her room.’
‘Jesus.’ Pauline swallowed. ‘I heard something in the middle of the night. A whimpering. I thought it was next door’s dog.’ She gulped. ‘It was Steph…’ She crumpled into a heap, elbows clanking off the table, chin tucked into her wrists. ‘Oh, Steph…’
Hunter gave her a minute, letting her pour all of the rage and disgust out of her body. Poor woman was falling apart. The bits of string holding her up were frayed and torn, had to break sooner or later. Like a broken Judy puppet, battered by Punch one too many times.
‘Pauline. Stephanie told us that Doug has been physically abusing you.’
She sat upright and swept her hair back. ‘Never started like that.’
‘How long has he been doing it?’
‘Never did it until his business started getting into trouble a few years back, then he took it out on me. A slap at first after a few whiskies. Then it got worse. And it didn’t stop when his work picked up again. He just started taking on more people, expanding. Whole thing gave him more stress. Started drinking more.’
‘Why didn’t you leave?’
‘I couldn’t afford a mortgage on my wage. Nobody else was going to take me and Steph in, were they?’ She tore at her lips with her teeth, stretching the skin tight. ‘I took the … beatings, thinking it would at least save Steph.’ She brushed at her eyes. ‘I tried to keep Steph away from it, make sure he never beat her.’ She closed her eyes and snorted through her nostrils. ‘But then I find out what he’s been doing to her…’
All Hunter could do was get up and pace through the back of the room.
Angus thumped at the controller, the little green elf kid slashing out with his sword.
‘How could you do this?’ Hunter leaned against the back of his chair, glaring at Pauline. ‘After you caught your first husband abusing Steph?’
‘I thought this was different. You’ve got to understand, I tried to change him…’
‘And when he started beating you up?’
Jain reached forward. ‘I understand—’
‘Do you? Do you really? Are you telling me you know what it’s like to let two beasts into your house? To have them … fuck your daughter? Their own flesh and blood, give or take…’
‘I know what’s going through Stephanie’s mind. I know what it’s like not to be believed by your own mother.’ Jain clenched her jaw. All she could do to keep it under control. ‘I know it’s difficult for you, but think about your daughter and what she’s been through. We need you to think through the events of the last two years and track down any instances where you believe Mr Ferguson could have abused her.’
‘Is he going to get away with this?’
‘If he lives, I hope not.’
‘Stabbing’s too good for him.’ Pauline spat the words out. ‘Should’ve been tortured and had his nuts cut off first, that sick bastard. Stuck in a big bucket and shat on and pissed on and…’ She shook her head. ‘I hope he never wakes up.’
‘It’d be helpful if we had other charges to level at him.’
Pauline rubbed a hand across her cheeks and glared at Hunter, her eyes glowing from the tears. ‘I want to press charges for battery against Doug.’
44
‘Should you not have a lawyer, one will be appointed for you.’ Hunter stood next to the hospital bed, the crisp sheets seeming sarcastic next to Doug Ferguson’s battered and bruised face. ‘Do you understand?’
Doug huffed out breath with a whistle. A little flicker sparked in his eyes, then it was gone.
Hunter leaned in close. ‘I said, do you understand?’
Doug rubbed his nose, smoothing his fingers across the skin.
Hunter looked round at Dr Yule. ‘He should be understanding me, right?’
‘He’s just not playing ball.’ The strip light flared in her glasses, her eyes opaque through the lenses. ‘He’s incurred no mental injuries during his ordeal.’
‘Well, he’s got a right to remain silent, I guess.’
Yule led him away from the bed. ‘Being attacked like that, on top of the abduction, well, it’s traumatic.’
Hunter just about picked her up and slammed her against the wall. ‘Traumatic for him? You know what he’s been doing to his stepdaughter, don’t you?’ He almost threw her at Doug. ‘Well, he’s going to be undergoing the trauma of a court case.’
‘That poor girl.’ Yule nodded slowly, her lenses clearing to give sight of her dark eyes. ‘The only thing going for Stephanie is she’s young. She’ll cope with enough time.’
‘I’m sure she’d much rather this hadn’t happened.’
‘I’m not sure what sense you’ll get out of Mr Sinclair.’ Yule paced down the corridor, her crocs squishing on the floor, her coat flailing behind her like a cape. ‘He has been heavily sedated. The consultant will be in shortly to advise on surgical options with his next of kin.’
‘Finlay’s old man lives in Portugal these days.’
‘He’s not married?’
‘Afraid not.’ Hunter gritted his teeth, trying to keep control. ‘I assume he’ll be in a wheelchair?’
‘Only for a few days, if it goes well. T
he most likely option will be to fuse the vertebrae together in pairs, though it’ll mean taking bone from his hip.’
Hunter shook his head as they walked. ‘That sounds pretty bad.’
‘It’s a relatively easy operation these days.’ Yule held the door open and let some of the stale air out. ‘He’s in here. I’ll give you a minute.’
Hunter gave her a smile, then entered the room.
Finlay lay on the bed, back raised to forty-five degrees, and covered in thick white bracing. His arms were splayed up at the sides, the support stopping at his elbows. He held his phone close to his face, a lopsided grin on his face. ‘Got you, Elvis, you big twat.’
‘And here was me worrying about you…’ Hunter grabbed the chair and slid it next to the bed. ‘You winning?’
‘Aye, about a hundred grand once the lawyer has a word.’
‘I meant the game, but I suppose this is Compo striking again.’
Finlay rested the phone down and settled back in the bed. ‘I’ll be off on the bird’s beak for three months, at least. Then it’ll be office duties for six.’
Hunter’s mouth was dry. ‘I’m sorry about it.’
‘Why? You shouldn’t be, mate.’ Finlay clicked his thumb off a button. ‘This is awesome morphine in here.’
‘I should’ve gone up there with you.’
‘I went up on my Jack, okay?’ Eyes back on the phone, his thumb hammering away. ‘Lauren said you caught the boy?’
‘He’s locked up. Safe and sound.’
‘Then it’s a good thing.’ Finlay stabbed the button again. ‘We’d probably get a commendation for this, but it’s my fault we let the lassie go.’
Hunter grabbed the bottle of ginger Lucozade from the bedside table and poured it into a spare cup. He took a drink and nodded. ‘I wish I could disagree with you, but I just can’t.’ He tipped out another cup and handed it over.
‘Always tell it like it is, Conan.’ Finlay took a sip from the cup. ‘That poor lassie, man. Jesus. What’s going to happen to her?’