by R. D. Nixon
He closed his eyes for a second, then looked over at Charis and nodded, his colour returning. Maddy saw Charis slump in relief, her hands gripped between her knees, her head bowed almost to her lap.
Paul was clearly growing annoyed with Stein again; Maddy recognised the way his eyebrows pulled together. ‘Okay, you were right about him after all. Now I can get on with my real job then, unless you need me for babysitting duty? Right, well we’ll talk it over tomorrow.’
He put the phone down and rubbed his face hard with both hands. ‘There’s no way he was in the hotel; that wasn’t a shower I heard running, it was a waterfall. He’s got Jamie up in the hills somewhere.’
Charis sat up, evidently ready to hit the mountains immediately, but Maddy saw Paul’s mind turning inwards for a second, and spoke quickly to bring him back.
‘What did he say to make you react like you did? Before you realised Jamie was okay?’
He stared at her, unfocused for a moment, then blinked. ‘Right. When I said about taking Jamie out of the way for a while, he said “the kid won’t be a problem any more.” I felt sick, I don’t mind telling you, and not just from the theatrical bullshit.’
‘So how do you know Jamie’s all right?’ Charis was starting to sound scared again.
‘Stein just said he would be kept out of the way until the deal was done. Thing is, he’s got completely the wrong end of the stick; Bradley and Mulholland aren’t the slightest bit worried about Jamie – they’re more concerned that I’m involved.’
‘Oh, naturally.’ Charis scowled. ‘You and your ego.’
Maddy met Paul’s eyes. The woman evidently had no knowledge of the crackling hatred between him and Bradley, or its origin.
‘So if you’re the problem,’ Charis persisted, ‘why would he take my son?’
Paul sighed. ‘Stein and Sarah still think it’s him that’s holding things up. We both thought he was the one Mulholland meant by “interested parties”, but that was before I knew you’d described me to the police. And, like you said, they had no trouble recognising me from your description.’
‘Oh great, so all this is your fault?’
‘No!’ Maddy broke in, rising to her feet. ‘For Christ’s sake try and get your bubble-head around this, okay? This has happened because your poor wee boy has a curiosity too big for his own good, and you’ve got a mouth to match. This isn’t just about Jamie! Paul is now in danger, because you went whining to the police about some missing bloody camera and a wobbly tent—’
‘I’m not in danger,’ Paul protested.
‘No?’ Maddy’s fear for him was spilling out as anger. ‘Think about it! One word from Bradley, once he’s got the slightest excuse, and you’re going to wind up getting the shit kicked out of you, and that’s only if you’re lucky.’ She sat back down, her entire body rigid. ‘Bradley might be too soft nowadays to do much of anything himself, but that Mulholland is a nasty piece of work, and you know it. Otherwise why would you be so worried they’ll find out about Jamie?’
Charis was looking from one to the other, her eyes wide and fearful. ‘Is that true? You think if they find out about Jamie, they’ll—’
‘I don’t know.’ Paul reached across the gap and laid one hand over hers, and Maddy wasn’t completely surprised to see she didn’t pull away. ‘We’ll find him before they do, don’t worry. When Stein last saw us, we were arguing, right?’
‘No,’ Charis said tartly. ‘I was telling you where to get off. You were sitting there taking it like a big girl’s blouse.’
‘Good point.’ Was he actually smiling? ‘Anyway, that aside, as far as he knows, you and I are at each other’s throats.’
‘Well, we are.’
‘Just shut up for five minutes, all right?’
Wonder of wonders she did, and Paul went on, ‘Right. So he’s got no reason to think I’d be doing anything to help you out. He’ll trust me. I’ll find out where Jamie is, one way or another.’
‘And what does Charis do in the meantime?’ Maddy asked.
The smile Paul flashed her was as wide as it was false, and she cursed him in block capitals in her head, knowing what was coming.
‘I’ve got a little job for you and your dressing-up box,’ he said, then turned back to Charis. ‘Stein will expect you to call the police. Public proof that Jamie is out of the way. But Maddy is going to be your responding police officer, right? The two of you need to make a very public show of this. Stein’s never met Maddy, so he’ll not know who she really is, and in order to let him relax a bit, you’re going to publicly point the finger at your ex-husband. Plenty of people saw him in the hotel, saw what went on there—’
‘What did go on?’ This much Maddy hadn’t heard, and the mention of an ex-husband did little to ease her misgivings about Paul’s involvement. If this ex of Charis’s was anything like his former wife, things were about to get very noisy in quiet little Abergarry.
‘Charis will fill you in later,’ Paul said. ‘All you’ve got to do, Charis, is tell the “constable” here all about Thorne, and that while we were upstairs he managed to get away from us. Got that?’
‘Right. He went down the back stairs, and he said something nasty on the way.’
‘Nice. What did he say? We need to get this bit straight in case Stein asks me too.’
‘Um, he said Jamie hates living with me, and has been e-mailing his dad, asking him to get him away from me.’
‘You’re good,’ Paul said, and a faint smile crossed Charis’s face.
‘Bit worrying when a private dick praises your lying capabilities.’
‘Just take the compliment. Right, I’m going to find out what I can from Stein. Charis, go back to the hotel, wait ’til you get a message from me to say he’s back, then put on your best performance, okay?’
While Charis used the lavatory, Maddy followed Paul to the top of the stairs. ‘How’re you going to do it?’
‘Do what?’
She lowered her voice. ‘Get Stein to open up to you. I mean, you’ve more or less promised you’ll get her boy back, but what if...’ She trailed away, seeing his face darken, then shrugged; might as well say it. ‘I think you’re maybe getting a bit too involved.’
‘With her?’
‘With the boy. It’s unprofessional, but I do understand.’
‘Don’t talk crap!’ He subsided, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry, Mads. I had a shaky moment earlier, but I honestly think the boy’s all right. For now. And if I can get to him quickly enough, he’ll carry on being all right, which is why no-one’s going to stop me finding him.’
This time, Maddy silently finished for him, as the door closed.
Chapter Ten
Abergarry, November 2005
Mackenzie zipped up the bag one final time and slung it over his shoulder. Nearly time to leave; just time for a quick coffee. Finding an excuse not to attend this health and safety conference had been impossible, but then he’d known it would be, as a senior safety officer. Now it was time to go though, and he wished he’d tried even harder, though Kath had vowed the whole downstairs would be redecorated by the time he got back; she wouldn’t thank him for hanging around and getting under her feet.
Coming into the kitchen, he saw she had already put down her paint roller and switched the kettle on. ‘Rock star,’ he said with a smile. ‘You read my mind.’
‘Aye, well.’ She turned to grin at him. ‘It’s a simple enough one to read.’
She looked ridiculously young today, in her old clothes, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she whistled in appreciation of his own smart clothes, a notable contrast to his usual workwear. Her locket swung out and clinked against a cup as she leaned over to spoon the coffee; it got in the way constantly but she never took it off, saying that the tiny pictures inside kept her men close to her when she took her hiking parties up through the glen. She had gone through four silver chains in the nine years they’d been married, and he’d finally threaded the locket onto a
leather thong and presented it to her on their anniversary three weeks ago. It made him as happy to see her wearing it, as it made her.
‘What’ll you be doing later? I’ll call you when I get there.’
Kath pulled a face. ‘No you won’t; you’ll meet up with your boozy friends and hit the bar the minute you’ve dumped your things.’
Mackenzie laughed. ‘Maybe,’ he admitted, ‘but you know, these drunken binges are expected of us at these events. Bloody hell, conference – sounds a bit posh.’
‘That’s why it doesn’t suit you.’ Kath yelped as Mackenzie tugged her ponytail.
‘I will call,’ he promised.
Her smile softened. ‘I know you will. Josh and I will probably go for a walk later, but we’ll be back by four or five, so call after then.’
When she dropped him at the station, his two colleagues had yet to turn up. He bent down to pull eight-year-old Josh into a tight hug, and the boy hugged him back, kissing him on the cheek.
Surprised and touched – Josh had considered himself too old to kiss his daddy for at least a year now – Mackenzie held him tighter. ‘Watch after your mother,’ he said. ‘Be good, and above all... This is really important, so listen hard. Are you listening?’
‘Yes!’
Mackenzie stared at him seriously, then he looked over his shoulder, as if checking for eavesdroppers. ‘Don’t let her paint the living room pink while I’m not there. Got it?’
‘Ugh, got it. No pink.’
‘I was going to do the whole room and ceiling in fabulous fuchsia!’ Kath protested. Mackenzie pulled a face and stood up straight, ruffling Josh’s already unruly hair and resting his hand on the back of the boy’s head, reluctant to break the unexpectedly rekindled closeness. It was hard, working on the rigs, being away for weeks at a time – the bond between them was too easily broken, and often hard to mend. But today it was there, and Mackenzie felt the warmth of it.
Then Kath’s arms were around his waist. He could smell paint in her hair and on her skin, mingling with the soap she’d tried to scrub it off with, and he breathed deeply, his free hand pulling her close. That moment, and the memory of his son’s kiss, nearly killed him.
They also saved his life.
It was late evening by the time he returned to his hotel room and called Kath. Her mobile went unanswered, and no-one picked up at home, and Mackenzie reasoned she could be in the shower, or anywhere. He waited an hour and called again. Then, becoming increasingly frantic, he began trying family and friends, but no-one had seen or heard from either Kath or Josh all day.
In the early hours of Sunday, after a sleepless night, he called the police and started home. The weather, nasty since Saturday afternoon, had turned even worse, delaying his return; snow flurries were spinning in the air, and the mountains and many of the back roads were already white. Mackenzie unlocked his front door with a feeling of dread, and his heart hammering so fast he felt as if it would spin right up through his throat.
The first place he checked was down to his left, then up on the same side, and his vision went grey. Two of the three pairs of walking boots were gone; two of the waxed jackets, one small, the other even smaller, also gone. He turned back to stare out of his front door, up at the surrounding hills. He could barely see any defined shapes through the swirling snow.
Josh and I will probably go for a walk later, but we’ll be back by four or five...
He threw off the lightweight coat he’d worn to Edinburgh and dragged on the remaining heavy-duty wax one, but his hands shook and he gave up trying to zip it closed. The front doorbell rang, and on the step was someone he vaguely recognised, flanked by two uniformed officers.
‘Paul Mackenzie? DI Bradley. I’ve come about your wife and son.’
An inspector? For this? ‘Have you found them?’
Bradley shook his head. ‘Sadly, no. Or from your point of view, maybe I should say luckily no.’
Mackenzie frowned. ‘I don’t understand – look, will you let me pass? I’m going out to search for them.’
‘I think not, Mackenzie.’ Bradley smiled, but it was thin, and it cut through Mackenzie like a wire. ‘If you’d be so good as to come with these officers, we’ll chat at the station.’
‘The car was found abandoned near the foot of Aonach Mor, and the snow is now well up around the wheel arches, so it’s been there a while.’ Bradley stared hard at the man opposite, willing him to break. It had to happen soon; Mackenzie was a wreck. Unshaven, red-eyed, he kept rubbing his hands viciously over his face in an effort to stay focused, to make sure he didn’t slip and say the wrong thing.
‘So what have you done with the bodies?’ Bradley pressed on. Mackenzie’s head snapped up; the veins on his neck were standing out with the effort of control, and Bradley knew just another few small pushes would send the man spinning over the edge. His exhaustion would be his undoing – the confession would be in the bag soon.
‘Mackenzie, evidence suggests that your family car has been parked at Aonach Mor since Saturday morning. Where were you?’
‘It can’t have been. Kath dropped me off at the station in it, around lunch time.’
‘Can anyone corroborate that?’
‘Two of my colleagues – we travelled to Edinburgh together…’ He shook his head. ‘Shit, no. They didn’t turn up until after she’d left.’
‘Convenient.’
‘But they might have seen her on the road.’
‘Hmm. Names?’
Mackenzie gave them, in a low voice cracking with strain. ‘Look, how many people have you got out there searching? Why won’t you at least let me help? I know where she’d—’
‘Forget it.’ Bradley took his time writing down the names. ‘Given the first opportunity, you’d be away over the horizon before we could blink.’
Mackenzie stared at him, disbelief written all over his face, and his eyes sought support from the other officer at the table. ‘In this weather? I’d have to be insane!’
‘But you’re happy enough to send your wife and child out?’ Bradley felt a certain satisfaction at the effect his words had; for the first time since childhood, he had a Mackenzie in his fist and he was going to squeeze until there was nothing left. Patience was, indeed, rewarded.
The Mackenzie family had owned the Bradleys, right up until the moment its patriarch had had a stroke, and the estate collapsed and was sold off to pay for his care. Of course all the staff had been laid off like discarded junk, including Frank’s put-upon estate factor, Iain, whose son, Donald, had always been invisible to the enviable and popular Mackenzie boys.
Rejected as a companion, his envy had only grown through the years as, despite everything, those boys somehow still managed to get whatever they wanted handed to them on velvet cushions. Including, in the younger boy’s case, the fresh, friendly, and captivatingly pretty Katherine Donachie, a girl Bradley had noticed around town, and who’d featured in some pretty intense dreams on occasion.
Of course their only son was as touched by the fortune fairies as his annoying, entitled, prick of a father; the perfect, sweet little family, carrying on their perfect, sweet little line. But now the gilded rope keeping Mackenzie moored to his charmed life had finally snapped. Something had pushed him to the point of violence, and a bloke Mackenzie’s size could inflict a lot of damage if his fire was blazing. He didn’t deserve someone like Katherine Donachie. He didn’t deserve his liberty, either, for what he’d done.
The newly transferred constable who was sitting in on the interview sighed, and shifted on the hard chair, making Bradley aware of his own discomfort. He glared, but the constable – what was his name again? Hollander? – merely looked at him blandly. For once Bradley wished he had Tony Clifford in here; he might be a self-righteous turd, but he was good at his job. He would have probed and probed, until he’d found the trigger that would make Mackenzie confess.
‘Interview suspended, fifteen twenty-five.’ Bradley stopped the tape. ‘You can stop p
lay-acting now, Mackenzie, it’s just us.’
Mackenzie raised his eyes from where they’d been staring fixedly at the table. ‘Are you going to tell me where you’re searching for...for my wife and Josh...’ But he didn’t finish; his breath seemed to be locking in his chest. Suddenly, startling both officers, he slammed his fists on the table.
‘Why won’t you let me show you where to look? They’ve probably gone where we always go when we go to Aonach Mor. Let me at least show you on the map!’
‘And have you send us on a wild goose chase?’ Bradley snorted. ‘I don’t think so. Your wife is a trained mountain guide, Mackenzie, well used to walking the hills. If she were really out there, she’d know what to be wary of in this weather, and she’d be safe. Stands to reason.’
‘But they might be safe! For now anyway. They might be sheltering somewhere waiting for someone to find them, and you won’t even let me—’
‘We’ve got those not-quite-witnesses of yours to speak with; we’ll continue this later.’
Bradley sat in the canteen some time later, frowning into his too dark coffee. He looked up as the constable joined him. Mulholland, that was it.
‘You’re sure of this bloke aren’t you?’
Bradley nodded. ‘He puts on a good act, I’ll give him that, but Kath Dona.. Mackenzie, and her child are past help.’
‘You’re not even going to send out the dogs?’
‘It’s not worth the risk to life, not in these conditions. No, he’s done something, I’m sure of it.’ He looked up as Tony Clifford came in and threw a cool glance in his direction before ordering a drink. ‘What are you looking like that for, sergeant?’
‘Paul Mackenzie would never hurt that woman, nor their child,’ Clifford said. ‘You’ve got to stop letting old grudges affect your judgement. Sir,’ he added, with a rare touch of insolence.