Madness Lies Page 18
His stomach wasn’t quite right yet, but it was growling at him, so he made a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich. When he looked at the clock again, he almost cheered. Surely everyone in South Carolina was up and about by now.
Carla’s mother sounded just like her, but with a slight American twang.
‘Hello. I’m Joe Galbraith, Carla’s…’
‘Carla’s boyfriend. Is she all right?’
He had no idea. He’d gone back to her flat twice, but there was no sign of her. Carla’s mother didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I told her it was a stupid idea but she wouldn’t listen. She needs to rest, not gallivant off to the back of beyond. Uist? She could have come here and relaxed in sunshine and civilisation.’
Uist?
‘Did she get there all right? Has something happened?’
There was no point lying. ‘I didn’t know she’d gone. I’ve been…eh…involved in a big case at work and I’ve…I’ve lost my mobile phone, so I haven’t been able to contact her. I went round today and she wasn’t there. I panicked and thought I’d phone you.’
‘Oh, I thought you and she were…well, never mind; that’s where she’s gone, to see her cousin in North Uist.’
‘Ronald.’
‘Aye. Do you have his number?’
‘Yes. I’d be grateful for Carla’s mobile number, though. It was in my phone, and I don’t know it…’
‘I know. I keep meaning to copy the numbers from my cell phone down, but I never get round to it. Wait a minute.’
While he waited, Joe googled flights from Inverness to Benbecula. He didn’t google the ferries. He knew without looking that it was the same ferry that sailed from Uig to North Uist, and to Tarbert on Harris. He’d journeyed to Tarbert twice last year, and he wasn’t quite ready to face the ferry again.
Her mum was back with the number. He wrote it down and thanked her. ‘You wouldn’t know Ronald’s address, would you?’
She laughed. ‘No. I’ve only been there once and I tried to erase everything about it from my memory. There was nothing there; just a straggle of houses right near the sea. And a Co-op. No trees. Desperate weather. The area might have started with ‘Sol’, or maybe that was the next village. Honestly, you don’t want to go there. Just phone. She’ll not stay long, trust me.’
He wasn’t prepared to trust anyone on that, or to go against his instinct to get the first flight over there. He phoned Flybe. There was a seat on the first leg of the flight from Inverness to Stornoway this afternoon, but no seat from Stornoway to Benbecula. He considered flying to Stornoway and hiring a car, then he realised he would have to drive through Harris, before crossing from Leverburgh to North Uist. He couldn’t do it. It wasn’t just his dreams and Stephen MacLaren that stopped him. He had family on Harris, and childhood memories that he wasn’t yet ready to face. There was a seat all the way to Benbecula tomorrow morning. He booked it.
*
Carla’s pal, Louise, was at reception in the station on Burnett Road. She was speaking to an old lady. ‘No dear. DC Roberts isn’t in. I’ll give him a message if you like.’
The old lady passed her a packet of chocolate biscuits. ‘Just give him these. He likes them with his tea. And tell him I got everything sorted out. Got my smart television and my iPad. Put the telly on and the first thing I saw was a picture of that other detective on the news, the rude – ’ She shook her head. ‘Best not to speak ill of the dead, eh? Anyway, maybe Roberts is feeling a bit down about it, though they didn’t seem close. These might cheer him up. He’s a good lad.’
‘Aye, he’s not bad, our Nigel.’
‘Nigel, eh? He kept that quiet.’
Louise looked apprehensive as she greeted Joe. He understood. It wasn’t easy to have a colleague in this position, but he wished she’d stop fiddling with the bloody biscuits. There wouldn’t be a whole one left for Roberts.
‘I was hoping to see DI Black. Is he in?’
DI Black closed his office door and pointed Joe to a seat. ‘I shouldn’t really be talking to you without Little and Large.’
Joe nodded. ‘I know, but I’m going away for a couple of days and I thought I’d better tell you. It’s Carla. She’s ill and I want to spend some time with her.’
DI Black shrugged. ‘Can’t stop you, son. You’re not under arrest, and I’m bloody sure you never will be. We just need that wee shite to come to his senses and tell the truth. Where will you be?’
‘North Uist.’
‘Aye?’ The DI raised his eyebrows. ‘See and don’t get stabbed. Have you got a phone number? As soon as there’s any news, I’ll be in touch.’
Joe took his mobile from his pocket. It was another old one of Lucy’s, the one she’d had before the iPhone she’d given him. She’d put the number on a label on the back for him. DI Black laughed. ‘That’s what the wife did with mine.’ He passed his to Joe. ‘Get a note of that, and keep in touch. I want you back here as soon as possible. We’ve got to stop this guy before he kills anyone else.’
There was a knock on the door. A uniformed cop with a memo. The DI read it and shook his head. ‘Someone answering Katya Birze’s description was seen struggling with a man on Old Edinburgh Road early yesterday morning, before getting in his car. Driver had a walking stick. No make, but we’ve got a registration number. It’s getting checked now.’ He looked up. ‘That’s about thirty six hours ago. If you or I saw something like that, we’d report it immediately. What planet are these people on?’
It was hard to leave the station, knowing they’d just had a breakthrough and he couldn’t be part of it. In the car park, he groaned when he saw Tina Lewis slouched against his car, picking at her nails. Before she raised her head, he saw a sheen of grease on her dishevelled hair. She looked up and her face was grey and gaunt, not a scrap of the usual make-up. If only she’d looked like that last night. Joe felt a flush starting at his neck and creeping up his face. ‘All right?’ he said.
‘Not really. Been sick four times. I’ve had nothing to eat. My head feels like someone’s inside banging it with a hammer. You look fine.’
‘Hardly. I stopped drinking spirits years ago so I wouldn’t ever feel like this again. And I’m off to my folks’ house now to try and clean the carpet.’
‘Your folks?’
‘They’re away. My sister’s staying there.’
Tina nodded. ‘You said that, I think. You didn’t drive there last night, did you?’ She pointed to his damaged wing mirror. ‘I could have sworn I phoned you a taxi.’
‘No. Just left it in a stupid place overnight. Was your car at the pub?’
She shook her head. ‘I walked down from the house. Listen, Sarge, I’m really sorry. I knew about…that you were spoken for. I…I shouldn’t have acted like that. I’m not sure my pride will ever recover from the knock-back. Carla’s very lucky.’
It was only the misery on Tina’s face that prevented Joe from breaking into laughter and punching the air. He could have kissed her.
‘It won’t affect our working relationship, Sarge, will it?’
‘We don’t have a working relationship right now, but if Ryan MacRae ever decides to tell the truth, and I’m back, no, it won’t affect anything.’
She smiled, and the grey disappeared from her face. ‘Thanks Sarge. I’m glad I saw you. I’m quite hungry now. Fried egg and chips might just about do it.’
***
Chapter 37
There had been no more texts from Sebastian, and Lucy was glad. He was a spineless git, and he’d treated her like shit. Still, it gave her some satisfaction to know he was sorry. She hadn’t replied last night. Joe’s arrival had put it out of her head. She decided against texting him now. Nothing he could say would interest her.
She put her jacket on. She was off up to New Craigs with Drew. Mary, the cat strangler, had asked for a solicitor again, anyone but Graeme Freel.
As Drew waited at the Rose Street roundabout, Lucy saw Joe’s car passing. Had he been at the station? What
was happening? Drew pulled out behind him. Lucy nodded to the car. ‘That’s my brother.’
‘The detective? Joe, is it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Did he give you any gossip about the cop that went off the bridge yesterday?’
Did he ever? Lucy was silent.
Drew smiled. ‘Sorry. Just being nosy.’
‘It’s all right. I was the same. I couldn’t wait to hear from him yesterday to find out what had happened. He didn’t tell me until this morning.’
Drew didn’t ask. Joe turned left into Chapel Street, while Drew crossed the bridge. The traffic was at a stand-still on Telford Street. Drew sighed. ‘Bloody Muirtown Bridge is open. Gets me every time. We’re going to be here for ages.’ He smiled at Lucy. ‘Any gossip?’
‘I’d have to kill you if I told you.’
His laughter was loud and infectious. ‘Better not kill me before Mary’s Mental Health Tribunal on Wednesday. You can come. And there’s the Grounds Hearing on Thursday for the Child Protection Order you did with Graeme last week. I’m sure I can get that kid home.’
That would be something. Graeme’s submissions at the court hearing for the Child Protection Order had been dismal, and his representation at the second working day Children’s Hearing had been worse. On both occasions, Lucy had been tempted to take the file from him and make a case herself. ‘That would be great, thanks.’ Although she wasn’t relaxed in his company, she was learning a lot from Drew.
The cars hadn’t moved. Drew tapped the steering wheel. ‘Must be a few boats coming through. We could be here for a while. Any – ’
‘It was Joe. At the bridge; it was Joe.’
‘He was there?’
‘He was there and he was accused of pushing his colleague off. But he didn’t do it. He wouldn’t. He’s been suspended.’
‘Lucy.’ Drew put his hand on her arm. ‘That’s awful. I’m so sorry for joking about it.’
There could be tears, but she wouldn’t let them come. ‘Don’t tell anyone, please.’
‘Hardly. Listen, you don’t have to come back in at all if you’d rather be with him.’
She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but it’s better to keep occupied. I’d probably drive him mad.’
‘Is he okay?’
‘He wasn’t too good last night when he turned up at my folks’ house drunk. I’ve never seen him like that. He was pretty rough this morning. I was going to text him at lunch time, but they took his mobile phone as part of the enquiry. I gave him another one, but it’s got an alpha-numeric keypad and he’ll never figure out how to text with it.’
‘This is your detective brother we’re talking about? Solves problems for a living?’
‘Suppose so.’ She got her phone out of her bag. There was a message. It wasn’t from Joe.
Couldn’t sleep for thinking about you last night. Can we talk? Sxx
‘You all right?’ Drew asked, as the cars started to move.
‘Aye.’ She sent Joe a text.
‘That’s terrifying, the speed you young ones text at.’
Young ones? Did he think of her as a kid? Bummer. And she didn’t want to talk to Sebastian. She had nothing to say.
‘If Joe needs a criminal solicitor, I could recommend someone good.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘He hates solicitors, but thanks anyway.’
‘Aye, the polis all hate solicitors, especially the good ones, until they need one. The offer’s there anyway.’
The medication must be working. Mary was in cracking form. She apologised to Lucy for the flying incontinence pads. ‘I tried my best not to hit you. See that fat bugger? He’ll not forget me in a hurry.’
Drew looked puzzled. ‘Fat bugger?’
‘Aye, that useless arrogant wee shite you sent up here. Wee fat shite.’
Drew looked at Lucy. ‘Is he fat?’
Lucy hesitated. She didn’t want to be a bitch. Ah, what the hell? ‘He is a bit.’
Mary laughed. ‘I notice you didn’t ask if he was useless or arrogant. We’ll take that as a given, shall we?’
Drew winked. ‘Right Mary, let’s get a look at these papers for the Tribunal.’
She passed over a bundle of papers. He had a quick glance. ‘Much the same as last time.’
‘Aye, and you’ll be arguing there’s no risk to me or anyone else again, right? And the necessity test. The order’s not necessary. Medication’s working. I’m fixed. I’ll stay in for a while if they want, voluntary, like. They’ve got to abide by that minimum intervention thingie – isn’t that what you told me?’
‘Aye; that’s right.’
‘So how can granting an order for a patient that’s willing to stay in and be medicated be the minimum intervention?’
‘Lucy?’
Shit. ‘Eh…I guess they’ll look at the history. How many admissions have there been? How many times has medication been stopped? Has the patient absconded? Stuff like that?’
Mary laughed. ‘You could write the script, love. But I’ve got an answer for most of that.’
Drew smiled. ‘Sounds like you don’t need us, Mary.’
‘Course I need you. You’ve done me proud every time.’
‘You know what I’m going to say…’
Mary took a deep breath. ‘Aye; you’ll do your best but there’s no guarantee and I mustn’t get my hopes up and the order’s only for six months and it’ll soon pass and I mustn’t give the panel evils or throw my water at the MHO. Have I forgotten anything?’
‘That’s about it, Mary. I’ll have a good read over the papers and we’ll see you at 9.30 on Wednesday morning.’
‘We? Do you mean her?’
Lucy blushed.
‘Aye,’ Drew said. ‘Is that a problem?’
‘Not at all. I thought for a minute you meant that fat git.’ She smiled at Lucy. ‘How could a face like that be a problem? She’ll charm them into letting me out. I know it.’
No pressure there, then.
Three patients stopped Drew as they walked through the communal area. He didn’t seem to mind. One was looking for representation again; he was on a short term detention certificate. There would be a tribunal the week after next, but he was much better and he didn’t need to be detained. Aye right, Lucy thought. Maybe when he stopped talking to the invisible person over his left shoulder, he’d be in a better position to prove his sanity.
The other two were past clients who wanted to thank him for helping them. While Drew chatted, Lucy became aware she was being watched. The stern-faced woman was sitting on a sofa. She was well turned out, in a blue dress and cardigan, her grey hair curled and set. When Lucy looked up and caught her eye, the woman didn’t flinch. It didn’t seem right to stare at her, so Lucy looked away, but not before she saw the woman wink at her.
Those eyes. They took Lucy back to a spring evening in Harris, when she’d thought her life was about to end. And then she knew. The woman was Betty MacLaren, Stephen’s mother. And it looked like she knew exactly who Lucy was.
***
Chapter 38
Sharon was lost. Beside her, his eyes closed as the plane began its descent, was the man she’d loved, no matter what she’d tried to tell herself. The man she’d trusted. He’d given her so much. And it wasn’t just the money or the things he’d paid for. They were nothing compared to the understanding, the encouragement, the respect. No guy had ever given her that. And he hadn’t battered her. Two nights ago, in the bath, she’d almost told him she loved him. She had never felt so close to anyone.
And it was all shit.
The future terrified her. Ryan in custody. Her and Liam in their dismal council flat, barely surviving on benefits. She felt his hand on her knee. ‘You all right, love?’
She nodded.
‘Will I come back with you and we can get Liam from school?’
‘Do you mind just dropping me off? I need to spend some time on my own with him. And I have to phone the cops, see how Ryan’s doing.’
Peter would have battered her for that. Putting the boys before him? That was not on. Christopher smiled. ‘Of course. We’ll speak later. Maybe do something?’
He didn’t mention going to the police, but that was no surprise to Sharon.
They were last off the plane. As they descended the stairs, Sharon was certain it would be the last time she’d fly. Though she’d promised Liam they’d go to Disney World one day, there was no way she could keep that promise.
They followed the other passengers towards the terminal building. Through the glass, Sharon thought she saw DC Roberts. Her heart started to pound. Had something happened to Ryan? She almost reached for Christopher’s hand, but she stopped herself.
It was Roberts, with a blonde woman and two uniformed cops. How bad did it have to be to send four cops? Her mouth was dry as she stopped in front of him. ‘What is it?’
But Roberts wasn’t looking at Sharon. ‘Christopher Brent?’
Christopher smiled. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Katya Birze.’
*
Joe smiled all the way to the garage, and he kept smiling even when they told him they couldn’t salvage the mirror and he’d have to get a new one. His mood took a wee turn for the worse as he scrubbed at the stain on his mother’s carpet. Lucy had cleaned up the worst of it last night, but the stain was still there. The smell of the cleaner was strong, and his headache was returning. He gave up after three-quarters of an hour. If the carpet had to be replaced, so be it. Home now, to pack.