by Ed James
‘I didn’t kill her.’
‘But you saw her tonight?’
‘No.’
‘Okay, so when did you last see her?’
‘I haven’t seen her in days. Weeks, maybe. Seriously.’
‘Was this on a date?’
‘A date?’ His laugh barked out and rattled around the room, jerked Vicky so much that she had to sit back. ‘No, I saw her at school. That’s it. Didn’t even speak to her.’
‘So you’re not her boyfriend?’
‘Whatever you’ve heard about me, it’s all bullshit.’
‘What might we have heard?’
‘Whatever, it’s just bullshit.’
Karen leaned forward now. ‘That’s what guilty people say.’
Gary looked right at her. ‘What?’
‘Guilty people deny. They don’t speak to us. Just sit there, acting calm. You’re not talking. Makes me think you killed her.’
He looked at her with anger and menace, like he could kill. ‘You have no idea.’
‘So enlighten us, Gary. Being honest will take a load off.’
‘You should be careful who you’re talking to.’
Karen sat there, arms folded, a coy grin on her lips. ‘Okay.’
‘I’m going to be a big shot.’
‘Uh huh. And why’s that?’
‘I work at Indignity.’
‘And what are they when they’re at home?’
‘You have no idea.’ Gary grinned. ‘They’re a video games company, up on the Kingsway. I test games for them.’
‘You sit and play games? That’s not a job.’
‘No, it is.’ Gary ran his tongue over his lips. ‘It’s called Quality Assurance. We make sure the games don’t break. It’s really important work.’
‘And they pay you to do it?’
‘A lot. And I’m really good at it. I’m going to get a job there instead of going to uni. I spoke to the boss about it at the Christmas party last night. So believe me when I say I’m going places.’
‘Your father know about this?’
‘He’s happy for me. It’s a good job. One with prospects.’
Vicky saw something in him. Not just a drunk kid. Maybe the deadening of emotions was the after-effect of trauma. Or maybe he wasn’t traumatised, just a dead-eyed psychopath. ‘My brother plays some of these games. One where you’re running around a big city, shooting people and setting cars on fire.’
Gary rolled his eyes. ‘Right.’
‘You know it?’
Gary smiled. ‘Babe, I test it.’
‘Shame to ruin your glorious future by murdering your girlfriend, isn’t it?’
‘She’s—’ Gary huffed out a huge sigh. ‘Forget about it.’
‘We can’t just forget about it.’ Karen leaned forward again. ‘Carly’s body is downstairs, going through a post-mortem. Literally means “after death”. She’s dead, Gary. Somebody murdered her. Was that you?’
The door opened and DC Considine popped his head in. ‘Sarge?’
Vicky patted Karen on the arm. ‘Back in a sec.’ She went out into the corridor.
Considine was standing with a middle-aged man. Short, stocky, bald. Cardigan and dress trousers. ‘Sarge, this is Mike Wilkie.’
Vicky fixed a hard stare at him. ‘You’re Gary’s father?’
‘I am.’ Mike was twitching his fingers, rubbing them off his palms. He had the same sharp cheekbones as his son, but his face below that was a softened wobble. ‘What’s he alleged to have done?’
Technical terms… Hopefully he wasn’t a lawyer. ‘We’re interviewing him in relation to a murder.’
Mike ran a hand over his head. ‘A murder? Crapping hell. Why him?’
‘Well, we gather that he’s Carly Johnston’s boyfriend.’
‘That’s complete nonsense!’
Vicky stared at him until he looked at her. ‘Even so, I need it from him. And I need it backed up by someone else.’
‘Why isn’t his word good enough for you?’
‘Because we’ve got a witness on record stating that he was her boyfriend. And it wouldn’t be the first time a teenager hid something from a parent.’
Mike nodded slowly. ‘No, I suppose not. What’s he saying?’
‘That’s the trouble, sir. Your son isn’t speaking much. Talking about his job at a video games company.’
‘Right, well. Listen, I’m not surprised.’ Mike rubbed his forehead. ‘Do you mind if I try and get through to him?’
‘You’re more than welcome.’ Vicky nodded at Considine, then led Mike into the room.
Gary glanced over, then he looked away, eyes shut. Tears streamed down his sharp cheeks.
Mike sat next to his son, holding him tight. ‘Hey, Gaz, it’s going to be okay.’
Gary let himself be hugged. The arrogant quality assurance tester of violent video games was replaced by a lost child, looking barely even his sixteen years. ‘Dad…’ He buried his face in his father’s chest.
Mike held him like that for a few seconds, mumbling soothing tones, but it didn’t sound like words or a message. They shared the same long nose, the same cheekbones giving rise to the same sad look. ‘Son, you need to tell them the truth, okay?’
Gary looked into his dad’s eyes, then nodded, then rubbed away his tears. He slumped forward, elbows on the table, resting his forehead on his hands, his greasy hair dangling free. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Let’s start where we asked you twenty minutes ago. You and Carly.’
‘There’s no me and Carly.’
‘Okay. But was there?’
‘Well, maybe. Kind of.’ Gary sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘But you were involved?’
‘Maybe. We kissed at the school disco.’ Gary’s lip trembled. ‘I thought we were going out, but she dumped me. And I… struggled with it.’
Mike raised his hand. ‘That’s not him saying he’s killed her.’
No, but it was the start of a motive.
‘Gary, that makes me think you might have a grudge against her.’
‘No.’ Gary’s head was shaking in tight jerks now. ‘No. No, no, no.’
‘Okay, let’s talk about this evening. You were at the party alone.’
Mike scowled. ‘You said you were going to Ian’s to play Xbox with him!’
Gary shrugged. ‘He was going to come along later. Had some family shit.’
Mike sat there, fuming, then thumped the table with a meaty fist. ‘Gary, I can’t believe you went to a party. I can’t believe you’ve been drinking. We talked about this, Gary. You’re supposed to be honest with me.’
Gary stared at his father, blinking hard. He yawned, then shook his head again. The kid was in serious denial about something. Then he burped, and lurched forward and vomited all over the table.
The rest of them shot to their feet.
Karen raced to the door and darted out into the corridor.
Mike was rubbing an arm around his son’s shoulder. ‘Hey, son, it’s okay.’
Gary sat there swaying and looking like he was going to be sick again.
Vicky followed Karen over to the door.
Considine was outside, messing about on his phone. He looked up at the wrong time, made eye contact with Vicky.
‘Stephen, can you look after the suspect for me? Take him back to the duty doctor.’
‘Aye, aye.’ Considine slouched into the room, then stopped dead just inside. ‘Ah, Christ.’ He grabbed Gary’s arm, and led him out. ‘Come on, son. Let’s get you cleaned up.’
Mike stood staring at the table. ‘I’m so sorry about this.’
‘It happens, sir. Way more than you’d think.’
‘You must think I’m such a bad parent.’
‘I’ve got a wee girl myself. It’s tough just now, but I know how hard it is when they’re Gary’s age.’
Mike nodded. ‘First ten years is all about keeping them alive. Next ten is about keeping them out of jail.
’ He shook his head, exactly like his son would. ‘Doing a great job of that.’
‘Do you think he could’ve done this?’
‘I doubt it, but then… I know it’s a cliche, but they really do grow up so fast. One minute, you’re putting them on swings, the next…’
‘Do you know Carly?’
‘I know her folks. Played squash with her father a few times, but that was years ago. We’re not particularly close, mind.’
‘Were Gary and Carly serious?’
‘You must remember what it’s like at that age better than me. Everything’s so serious, like they’re going to live together forever, but they’ll be seeing someone else the next week. And it’s hard keeping up with who they’re seeing. Jane’s much better at it than me.’
‘Jane’s your wife?’
‘Right. Right.’
‘And I gather that you live near the Johnstons?’
‘Same street. Adelaide Place. We’re at the cheaper end, though.’
‘So you know Carly?’
‘I do. Remember when she was yay high.’ Mike held out a hand at belly button level. ‘All the kids running around the street. Now she’s almost a grown woman. A lot more mature than Gary.’
Vicky nodded along with him.
Mike frowned. ‘I mean, girls can grow up faster, right?’
‘Don’t think there’s a hard and fast rule, sir, but it can happen. I read something about boys’ brains not being fully developed until they’re twenty-five, whereas girls it’s twenty-one. I think.’
‘Explains a lot.’
Vicky frowned. ‘By the time I was sixteen I was seeing a man in his twenties, but my brother was still going to Star Trek meetings in Dundee.’
Mike smiled at that. ‘Star Trek. Well.’
‘Listen, I’ve seen this sort of thing before. Some boys don’t know what they’re doing. Take things too far. Accidents happen. But we will need to continue interviewing Gary.’
‘Right, I understand.’ Mike shook his head. Clearly a family trait.
Karen entered the room, carrying a roll of blue paper, muttering something under her breath about Christmas Eve. She started dabbing at the sick.
‘Listen, I don’t know if this is any use.’ Mike scratched his bald head. ‘Probably isn’t.’
Vicky led him away from the table to let Karen in. She wanted to get stuck in and help her, on account of Karen giving up her evening on Vicky’s behalf, but Mike was dangling a juicy worm. ‘Whatever it is, sir, it might help.’
‘Well, it’s just… I think Carly might’ve been seeing an older guy. Someone with his own car.’
‘How do you know this?’
‘I was jogging home from work one day.’ Mike didn’t look like a runner. ‘And this car almost hit me. The driver didn’t stop. And I’ve seen the car a few times on our street. Same plates, so I wondered if it was… Look, I saw the car dropping Carly off last Tuesday, just after I got home from work.’
Vicky hoped Forrester had the presence of mind to ask the parents that sort of thing. Hoped that the parents offered the information, and that was an active lead being investigated. ‘Did her father talk about him?’
‘Bill’s not a talking kind of man. Football, sure. Films, telly, music. But not about who his daughter is seeing.’
Karen tossed her wad of tissue into the bin, then tore off another stretch. ‘What kind of car was it?’
‘A silver Skoda. You know, the kind all the taxi drivers use these days.’
‘You don’t think it was just a taxi?’
‘Same plates every time. Seemed fishy to me.’
6
Vicky walked along the corridor, hands in pockets. ‘Thanks for cleaning up in there, Kaz.’
‘I’d say “don’t mention it”, but…’
‘You want me to keep mentioning it?’
‘Always.’ Karen held the door open for Vicky. ‘You okay?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, we should have some wine in our bellies.’
‘No, you seemed a bit weird with that kid.’
Vicky sighed. ‘Just been to a few too many parties like that.’
‘As a kid?’
‘No. As a cop. I… I didn’t go to too many parties like that.’
‘You? Seriously?’
Vicky gave her that shut-up look, then walked through the door and made her way along the corridor. ‘What do you make of that?’
‘Well, if it is the same Skoda, then… Then what?’
‘I don’t know.’ Vicky put a hand on the family room door and opened it to a crack. Hard place to be, down here in the bowels of the police station’s mortuary, but no windows meant nobody could look in on you during your grief.
Catherine Johnston was still in the depths of grief. Sitting on the sofa, head buried in her hands. She looked over at the door and stood up tall, fanning a hand through her long, dark hair. ‘I need a cigarette.’ She reached for her bag and fished out a golden lighter and a pack warning of all the dangers. ‘Do you want to join me?’
Bill Johnston was sitting next to her on the sofa, staring into space. He looked over, frowning like he hadn’t quite made out exactly what she’d said, but then something seemed to click. ‘Right. No, I’m fine.’ He looked anything but. His face crumpled up.
Karen smiled at Catherine. ‘I’ll show you upstairs, madam.’
She scowled in response. ‘I can manage myself.’
‘There’s a security system.’
‘Oh. I see.’ Catherine nodded, and let herself be led up out of the room into the cold, dark night. Maybe she’d get some solace in a smoke.
Vicky sat on the armchair opposite the sofa. ‘I thought you’d have been taken home.’
‘I wanted to go.’ Bill sat there, rubbing his hands together. ‘Start breaking the news to people. But Catherine…’ He sighed. ‘Your boss is at the post-mortem and she wants to stay and see what… what happened to our wee girl.’
‘I understand.’
Bill grimaced, squeezing his face up tight. ‘The longer I stay, the worse it feels. I swear, if someone raped her, I’ll…’
‘I understand, sir.’
Bill glared at her, eyes narrowed. ‘You got any kids?’
‘Aye, she’s three in March.’
Bill stared up at the ceiling, and a breath escaped. ‘You never… You… Shite.’ He looked back down. ‘Have you got some news for us?’
Vicky sat forward, rubbing her hands together slowly. ‘Not so much news as questions. I can come back if—’
‘No, I want to help. Might take my mind off this.’
Vicky gave a polite smile. ‘Did Carly ever mention any boyfriends?’
‘Believe me, our daughter’s life was a sweet little mystery.’ Bill sat back, eyes closed. ‘You’ve got it all to come. It’s…’ He pinched his nose. ‘It’s…’
‘Any names spring to mind?’
‘You’ve got one in particular, haven’t you?’
‘Gary.’
‘Gary? Gary Wilkie? Christ no.’ He frowned. ‘I mean, I hadn’t heard but… Well, like I say… Our daughter felt like a stranger to us at times. I mean, they played on the street when they were kids, but they grew apart. They all do.’
‘Do you know if she was seeing anyone recently?’
‘Like I just said, our daughter’s life was a mystery. I mean, we could’ve locked her up, but what kind of life was that? Christ.’ Bill kneaded his forehead. ‘What kind of death is it? Letting her run wild, just to… to end up in a bloody supermarket car park.’ His tears formed a droplet on the end of his nose. He wiped it away. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well, we’ve got a few reports of Carly getting out of a car outside your home.’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘A Skoda Octavia, silver.’
‘Aye, that’s just a taxi. Carly had a job up at the cinema. Sometimes if she was on late, they’d lay on a cab for her.’
‘Sure about t
hat?’
He nodded, but his frown betrayed any certainty. ‘Why, do you think otherwise?’
‘It was the same car a few times.’
‘You think this car was her boyfriend?’
‘We’re investigating it.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, a car matching that description was seen entering the crime scene around the time of death.’
Bill blew air up his face. ‘I wish I’d taken more of an interest in her life.’
‘It’s a tough line to walk, sir. A hard choice between helicopter parenting and letting them be free-range kids. It’s not easy.’
‘Aye, well, we’ve got to live with the consequences of letting her do what she bloody liked.’ Bill stared at her, icy hard. ‘I want to help you find who did this to her.’
‘And you are, sir.’
‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘There’s a lot I can’t legally tell you, sir, under operational confidentiality.’
‘Because parents can kill their kids?’
‘Something like that.’
‘You seriously can’t think either of us did this.’
‘I’m not saying you did, sir. I just can’t tell you anything else.’ Vicky had to look away from him. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket, but didn’t feel like this was the right time to take it out and check. Then again… ‘Listen, we found a phone near the crime scene. What did—’
‘Samsung something or other. The deal was, if I buy it, then I get to check it whenever I want, or she buys her own.’
Which was super-invasive. And controlling. ‘And did you check it?’
‘It was like the bloody thing was brand new. Every single time. Wiped clean. And she kept deleting all of her messages in WhatsApp and all that. Thing was like it’d been nuked from orbit.’
Vicky got her phone out and flicked through her photos from the crime scene. There. A Samsung Galaxy A8, lying on the ground. The blingy gold model. ‘What colour was it?’
‘Erm, gold, I think.’
‘Well, it could be hers.’
‘Bloody thing. She was never off it.’
‘You knew the passcode?’
‘Aye. Well, Cath did.’
* * *
Jenny raised her eyebrows at Vicky’s approach. ‘Oh look, it’s the ghost of Christmas present.’