Hold Your Tongue

by Deborah Masson

  ‘Never thought about it like that. But yeah, “Rock-A-Bye-Baby” and that bloody cradle falling should’ve been keeping me awake.’ She looked to the carpet, thinking about Cooper with his family. ‘You’ve a great thing going, you know. Louise and the kids are brilliant.’

  Cooper nodded, a smile playing around his mouth. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You make out you’re tortured by all the kiddy stuff, dancing and having to sing the nursery rhymes and all that, but it’s obvious …’ She paused, a thought flickering out of reach.

  ‘What?’

  Eve shook her head. ‘Sorry. You know, I thought there was something there …’

  ‘Something?’

  ‘When we were talking then, about soothing songs and horror films. I … I don’t know what I thought and then it was gone again.’

  Cooper sat quiet. Eve watched him pick up his butty again, happy to take the time to finish it.

  Eve was wracking her brain for what had come to her fleetingly and then as quickly disappeared again. She focused on the rhymes, found herself staring at the headlines on the cork board, each one pinned there in order of when the women had been found. She read them one by one. Reading Sanders’ headline on the workbench last. She read them again. And again. Knowing she was close to something …

  Eve lurched forward, springing away from the bench. ‘Holy shit.’ She was shouting. ‘Give me your phone.’ Her hand was flapping, urging Cooper to pass it over.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your phone. Give it to me.’

  Cooper reached inside his pocket, looking confused as he did. She snatched it from him, jabbed at the buttons with both thumbs, frantic, her brow furrowed.

  ‘There.’ Eve thrust the phone towards Cooper. ‘Look. Jesus, it’s been staring us in the face.’

  ‘Eve, what the hell—’

  ‘Look.’

  He took the phone from her, stared at the screen. The confusion on his face lifting as his mind computed what he was reading. ‘Oh my God.’

  It was a rhyme. A nursery rhyme. An old fortune-telling song. But instead of predicting the future, it was dictating the present.

  Hastings sat back in his chair. ‘You shouldn’t be here. But you are. And you’re standing there seriously asking me to believe that we’re dealing with a nursery-rhyme killer?’ He closed his eyes, either trying to take in what Eve was saying or trying to block it out. ‘I mean, the fact that Aberdeen has a serial killer, and one with a penchant for arty-farty ways of killing folk, is cliché enough. But killing to a kid’s song? Jesus.’

  Eve stood alongside Cooper in front of their boss’s desk. Only an hour since Eve had been standing in her shed in her dungarees. ‘Look, I know I’m not your favourite person. And I understand why you wouldn’t trust anything I say, but if you could listen, sir. Please.’

  She was in danger of sounding as obsessive as she had over Hardy – and look where that had got her. But she swallowed, took a deep breath and tried anyway. ‘Melanie was a model. All the make-up, magazines and mirrors found around her. In a bathroom. Her face ripped to shreds. Monday’s Child. Fair of Face.’

  Hastings shook his head, eyes still shut tight.

  ‘Lexie. Ballet Dancer. Tied to the bar. Tuesday’s Child. Full of Grace.’ She paused. ‘Jenkins. Wednesday’s Child.’

  She heard Hastings mutter under his breath. ‘You got that right.’

  Eve hoped the comment meant he was finally seeing what they were. ‘Jenkins’ tongue was sent to me in a crying Harlequin trinket box. Full of Woe.’ She stopped, knowing who came next.

  Cooper stepped forward, glanced towards her. Eve nodded for him to take over. ‘Excuse me for interrupting, sir.’ Cooper coughed. ‘Sanders.’ Hastings opened his eyes, looked at Eve as Cooper spoke. ‘Thursday’s Child. Far to Go.’

  Eve saw the confusion on her boss’s face. ‘Here.’ She placed the newspaper clipping found on Sanders’ body on the desk. ‘Female Officer Has Long Road Ahead’.

  Hastings slid the piece of paper towards him, picked it up and held it pinched between forefingers and thumbs, staring at the words in front of him. He said nothing for the longest time and then shook his head, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. ‘OK, say I was going to entertain this, what next?’

  Eve felt a surge of hope. ‘We go back to the start. Look at anything we might’ve missed. I get over my fixation with Hardy.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You have my word that I’ll keep a low profile, that I won’t muck up again. I’ll stay away from Hardy. Let me dig about, see what we can come up with.’ Eve glanced over at Cooper, who looked as doubtful as Eve felt. She watched Hastings lean his head back against the leather chair, covering his face with both hands, and had no idea what she’d do next if the answer was no. Her boss dragged his hands down baggy cheeks, bushy eyebrows hanging over hooded lids. ‘Fine.’ He sighed. ‘Do your digging.’

  Eve wanted to rush forward and shake her boss’s hand, but she didn’t move, the look on Hastings’ face making it obvious he had more to say.

  ‘Do your digging, Eve, but if you let me down on this, if I find you anywhere near Hardy, it’s yourself you’ll be burying.’

  Hastings stared at her, looked across at Cooper. ‘But before you do, get Ferguson in here.’

  Eve stood next to Ferguson in front of the boss. Both of them staring straight ahead, no eye contact made since Ferguson had entered the room. Eve’s heart thumped, fingers laced together tight in front of her, not trusting herself next to Ferguson if she loosened her grip.

  ‘Sir, what’s he doing here?’

  ‘What do you think he’s doing here, Hunter?’

  ‘I mean how come he’s in the office and I was told to stay at home?’

  Hastings sighed, looking like he was in need of a stiff drink. ‘Because, Hunter, I called him in to hear what he had to say. Trying to decide whether to suspend his ass for hitting a senior officer.’

  ‘And?’ She wanted to know what she was dealing with.

  ‘And whether I should do the same with you for striking an officer beneath you.’

  It was only then that Eve glanced to her side, Ferguson’s swollen eye giving her cheekbone a run for its money. She was raging. Still as mad as she had been when they’d been rolling about in Hardy’s garden, knocking the shit out of each other. But she’d been wrong. Wrong to handle it in the way she had. Temper winning again. Learning nothing after Sanders. And she wanted to learn. Ferguson was a prat, but he was part of the team, one of hers, and it was her job to keep him safe. To protect him, even if he did screw up.

  ‘It was my fault, sir.’

  Ferguson’s head whipped round.

  Hastings leaned back, spindly fingertips joining together in that pyramid in front of his face. ‘You think?’

  ‘Yes. It was the emotion of Sanders. The belief that something had been missed with Hardy. The history with me and Ferguson. I lost it, sir.’

  Ferguson was staring at her. She hoped to hell he’d keep his gob shut. She watched him turn to Hastings, knew he wasn’t going to.

  ‘I fell asleep.’

  Eve shook her head, closed her eyes. So this was how he was going to deal with the guilt he’d always felt about Sanders and now the latest balls-up. She forced herself to open her eyes and face Hastings.

  Her boss frowned. ‘What do you mean, you fell asleep? When?’ The words slow, trying to work something out in his head.

  Eve heard Ferguson swallow as he rocked on his feet.

  ‘Watching Hardy’s place.’

  Hastings sat, his features visibly changing as he joined the dots, anger creeping up his neck and spilling on to his face. ‘You fell asleep. What the fuck?’ He was up on his feet, chair pushed out of the way.

  Ferguson stepped back.

  ‘Are you telling me Hardy could’ve been out?’ Hastings’ face was beetroot.

  ‘Sir, please …’ Eve was aware she had a choice. Let Ferguson take the rap or stick up fo
r her colleague. Defend his mistake when he’d never let her forget hers.

  She paused only briefly. ‘It was a mistake. We make them. Ferguson has to deal with what that might mean. We’ve both taken a hit out of it. Literally. But what we need to do is catch the sonofabitch.’

  ‘Do we think it’s him?’

  Eve didn’t think her boss had to ask her that. ‘Ferguson reckons he saw Hardy at the window both before and after he fell asleep. He thinks he slept for two hours. It would make it tight for Hardy but possible.’

  Hastings rubbed at his temple with thumb and forefinger.

  ‘You could report each other. Jesus, I could report you both. Hardy already has.’

  Eve stood, waiting for Ferguson to take his chance, wondering if he would try to get her off the job as he’d wanted. Her heart was pounding. It never came. She breathed out.

  ‘Sir, I have no wish to report anything. We need all the manpower we can get. Ferguson is a good officer. I’d like you to allow us to get on with our job.’

  Hastings sighed, sat again, picked up a pen, turning it round and round in his hand. The silence was heavy. ‘It’s all over the papers. You’re putting me in a shit situation.’

  Eve stood still, Ferguson rigid beside her.

  Hastings chucked the pen on to his desk. ‘Don’t let me down. Get out of my sight.’

  Chapter 36

  Monday, 2 December

  ‘I say it’s worth a look.’ The glare of the computer screen gave Mearns’ face a ghoulish glow.

  Eve, Cooper and Ferguson stood behind, reading over her shoulder. All four of them staring at the Scottish Intelligence Database, where they’d previously got two hits on old cases, Eve surprised they’d found any at all. One had led them to St Andrews, to Helen Black’s murder. The other, they’d ignored.

  ‘You think? The reasons for not going any further with it were obvious at the time.’ Cooper sounded far from convinced.

  ‘We wrote this one off because the guy was caught, had done his time. Isn’t he terminally ill?’ Eve was with Cooper. She was aware of Ferguson; neither of them had said a word to each other since they’d left Hastings’ office.

  She didn’t look his way as Mearns spoke. ‘Dundee though. Close to St Andrews and here. You never know what it might kick up.’ It was obvious Mearns didn’t want to let it go. ‘Let me put in a call to the station at least.’

  ‘OK. Give them a call. But before you do, I’d like a word.’ Eve motioned to Mearns to go into a side office. She looked at Cooper, grateful for his smile of reassurance. He knew what she was about to do. Today was panning out to be one where she was determined to haul her team on side.

  ‘Something wrong, boss?’ Mearns looked worried.

  ‘You could say that.’

  Mearns looked confused, as if she was ready to fight her corner.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s nothing you’ve done. It’s something I’ve done.’

  Mearns didn’t hide her surprise.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You didn’t have time for me when I came back.’

  Mearns looked to the floor, her cheeks reddening.

  ‘And that’s OK. To be expected. I hope you’ve changed your mind.’

  ‘I—’

  Eve raised a hand, silencing her. ‘This isn’t exactly my comfort zone, but I wanted to be upfront with you, to tell you about that night. The night when Sanders was injured. That I had been drinking.’

  Mearns didn’t look shocked. ‘I know. And I’ll be honest too – it was the reason I disliked you. I thought you’d shown total disregard for the job. For your colleague’s safety.’

  Eve deserved what she was hearing.

  ‘But then I listened to you talk that night at Cooper’s. About you visiting Sanders. And I knew. Even if I hadn’t then, working with you these last few weeks, I know how dedicated you are, a team player. What happened that night, you drinking, was a one-off. A bad call you lived to regret.’

  Back in therapy again. ‘OK, that’s us up to speed.’ Eve headed towards the door; Mearns caught her arm.

  ‘Thanks for telling me.’

  Eve nodded once and opened the door, glad to be stepping out into the open plan. ‘Go ahead and phone Dundee.’ Eve couldn’t see anything coming of it, but there was no harm in letting Mearns run with it. ‘It’s something to be looking at in the meantime, something to give the boss – at least until we figure out where the hell we go next.’

  Eve caught square on the canteen-wrapped sandwich that Cooper had flung overhead. An egg-mayo bun. Baby bun by the looks of it. ‘Wouldn’t have to be starving.’ Eve’s finger gouged the cling film covering the sandwich.

  Cooper tutted but with a smile on his lips. ‘You could always go yourself.’

  ‘What and take an hour to get to the canteen till, getting ribbed about the front page at the weekend?’ Eve tried to keep her voice jovial, pretending it wasn’t more about being cornered by every officer in the station wanting to express their sympathies about Sanders. She bit into the sandwich as far as she could, giving in to her hunger for the first time since the takeaway the other night. Before … She didn’t let her mind go there, ripped another bite out of the bun instead. She was wiping mayo off her lap, her cheeks full, when Mearns walked in.

  ‘Looks a fine barm.’

  She looked to Cooper for translation.

  ‘She means the bun.’

  ‘Oh.’ Eve might’ve got used to the Bolton accent, but the words could still stump her.

  Cooper grinned. ‘And I bet that’s not the only buns she’s been thinking of.’

  Mearns groaned. ‘Jesus, Cooper.’

  Eve watched Ferguson’s gaze following her as she walked to the centre of their desks.

  Mearns coughed. ‘Here’s what we’ve got.’ She clapped her hands together, clearly glad to be changing the subject. ‘Managed to speak to one of the officers who attended the scene at the time. Old-timer but a rookie then. Said it nearly made him give up the job before he’d even started.’

  Eve put the remains of the sandwich on the table, feeling that her appetite might be about to go out the window. Cooper did the same and came over to join her, both of them letting Mearns take centre stage, their colleague too buoyed to sit by the looks of it.

  ‘Twenty years since it happened. Ronnie Dempster attacked his wife. Knocked her out and when she came to he went for her tongue with a knife. Only stopped when their ten-year-old son, Shaun, woke and came downstairs. Walked right in on them. His birthday.’

  ‘The kid’s birthday? Jesus.’ Someone else who must’ve hated their birthday.

  ‘That kind of woke the husband too, because he stopped and phoned for an ambulance.’ Mearns carried on, ‘Was too late though: wife had gone into shock, massive blood loss, heart gave out on her. When the police arrived, both the husband and the son were covered in blood. The father for obvious reasons. The son because he’d been clinging to his mum.’

  Eve couldn’t begin to imagine what that would do to a kid. ‘What was the story with the father? Breakdown? Drunk? Psycho?’

  ‘His defence went with diminished responsibility – grief.’

  ‘Grief?’ Cooper sounded surprised.

  ‘Yeah. They lost their daughter the year before. Freak accident.’

  Cooper tutted. ‘The poor kid left behind.’

  ‘Yeah, the officer I spoke to said he ended up with his grandparents on the mother’s side. They had nothing to do with the father after that.’

  ‘No surprise there.’ Eve swung her seat from side to side, thinking. ‘Did the officer know where the father’s at?’

  ‘Wasn’t difficult. Ronnie Dempster never left the family home. Apart from his stint in prison, of course.’

  ‘You’re joking?’ Cooper screwed up his face.

  ‘Nope. Officer says it’s lying empty.’

  ‘How come?’ Eve wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  ‘Seems the guy’s on his last legs. He’s in
a hospice.’

  Cooper groaned. ‘That’s the end of that then.’

  Eve could see Mearns didn’t agree.

  ‘I still think we should go and speak to him.’

  Eve picked up a pen, tapped it against the desk. ‘Why?’

  ‘Dunno. I feel we should write it off properly. I mean, OK, it’s obvious he’s not our man, but don’t we want to know why the tongue, why he did what he did, who was connected to him and the case?’

  ‘No disrespect, but I think it would be a waste of time and, even if I didn’t, there’s no way Hastings’ll go for it.’ Eve stood, at a loss as to where to go next. The only real leads they had were the days of the week and the headlines. So they’d start there.

  ‘Cooper, Ferguson, I want you to start looking through the Aberdeen Enquirer archives. All the headlines to date have come from there, and all from within the last year. Get Elliott on board.’

  Ferguson looked like he was losing the will to live already. At least Cooper tried to look keen. ‘What are we looking for, boss?’

  ‘Friday’s Child. Loving and Giving. Anything that might hint towards that. Community stories of support and generosity, nominations for awards for caring for others. That type of thing. I know it’s a long shot and a shit job, but it’s all we’ve got.’

  Mearns piped up. ‘What about Dundee?’ She wasn’t giving up. ‘It’s only an hour away. Like you say, what else have we got? The boys can drum up some theories for us while we’re gone.’

  Cooper’s eyes widened.

  Eve came around the front of the desk, stood in front of Mearns. ‘We don’t even know if this guy will be fit enough to be chatting to us. Besides, even if he is, what’s the point?’

  Mearns chewed her bottom lip. ‘What would you say if I said it’s a hunch?’

  Chapter 37

  Tuesday, 3 December

  For the third time, Eve found herself on the A90 heading south. This time with Mearns. It was her hunch after all. Eve was glad of the company, which seemed to have thawed considerably.

  She flicked the wipers on, the rain chasing them again, light showers on and off since they’d left Aberdeen, interspersed with breaks of brilliant sunshine. Only needed snow and it’d be the typical Scottish four seasons in one day. She hoped the drive would be worth the effort.