Madness Lies Read online

  ‘Now that you’ve had your epiphany, anything else come to you? Like what were you both doing in his car in the first place?’

  Ryan nodded. ‘Yeah, it’s coming back to me. Todd said earlier he was going to see a man about a party. And there was some mention of lunch and then a meeting.’

  They didn’t believe he had no idea where Todd lived. He’d have liked to know. It would have given him somewhere to go when life and his mother and everyone else was pissing him off, but Todd had never told him.

  The taller of the two was leaning across the table. ‘Let me get this right. You’ve been hanging about with this guy for almost a year; he picks you up at school or anywhere else whenever you want; he gives you a phone and money. But you don’t know where he lives?’

  ‘I don’t. Can I have a break?’

  *

  DI Black looked over the notes. Didn’t take them much further, but at least the wee shite was talking now. Todd Curtis and, perhaps, Christopher Brent, have a grievance against Gordon Sutherland. They try to get some dirt on him by tempting him with call girls, and blackening his name with his council colleagues. That doesn’t work, so Curtis uses Sutherland’s party and approaches him about a possible donation. Meets with him on the day of a branch meeting, gets in his car to go to lunch, and then to the meeting.

  That way madness lies. Why would that trigger Todd Curtis to shoot? Is he mentally ill? Probably, but he’s going to have heard a lot worse by way of insult than that. He’s certainly got a short fuse, according to MacRae, and he regularly settles scores with people who have crossed him. He’s perverted, evil and blatant enough to put that photo through the grieving widow’s letterbox on the day of the murder. Some grievance.

  He studied the interim post mortem report for Birze. No sign of sexual assault. Beaten and strangled. Some of the injuries were caused by a stick, possibly with a carved metal head. Shame Brent’s stick was clean, but he could have scrubbed it well. She’d been buried face down, with signs of fixed lividity on her front, caused by stagnation of the blood vessels after death. Yet there were also faint areas of lividity on her back and buttocks. She had been lying on her back somewhere before she was buried.

  They had two sources of evidence that pointed to Brent’s window of opportunity being narrow. He’d had four hours at most, to leave Ness Castle, find Birze and struggle with her on Old Edinburgh Road, kill her, have her somewhere on her back long enough for lividity to develop, and then bury her. Did it really add up?

  Come on, Ryan, he thought; give us something that makes some sense of all this.

  ***

  Chapter 45

  At the mention of Danielle, Ryan put his head down on his forearms. He felt his solicitor’s hand on his upper arm, a gentle stroke. That brought tears to his eyes. He didn’t want these bastards to see he was upset. They’d use it against him. They must think he was a cocky little shit. He was. Didn’t always mean to be, but he couldn’t help himself. There was this well of anger and frustration inside him, and he couldn’t stop it from rising up and erupting whenever he felt threatened. It didn’t have to be a physical threat. Anything. Anyone. It seemed impossible to control.

  He felt something poke his forearm. He looked up. It was a photo of Danielle. She was so beautiful.

  ‘Son, you’ll feel better when you’ve told us.’

  Son? I’m not your fucking son. Better? Fucking better? He shook his head, opened his mouth to let the bile out, but it didn’t come. He felt as if something was shifting inside of him, the anger melting and draining away.

  His voice was steady as he told them about the phone call, the race to Carlton Terrace, the promise to take Danielle to the town. Though nausea threatened to engulf him, he kept calm as he told them of Todd’s anger and his offer and the condom. And then he was silent.

  ‘You’re doing well, Ryan; we need to catch him. Tell us the rest.’

  Ryan looked into a distance of his own, and watched it again, as he had done so many times. ‘Todd was watching, waiting to see what I would do. The doors were locked and we couldn’t get away. I had to pretend I was going along with it, so I started to open the zip of Danielle’s top. She was so scared. I tried to tell her with my eyes that I would never hurt her, but I don’t know if she knew.

  ‘He laughed then. Said something about me being my father’s son, all right. Then he got out. He didn’t lock the car.’ Ryan shook his head. ‘He must have been so certain that I was just like my father, that I couldn’t see what was wrong with it. He walked a bit away, kept his back to the car. I told Danielle we had to get out. We’d both open the doors really quietly, and she was just to run for the main road, as fast as she could.

  ‘We were just out of the car when he heard us. He came at us, roaring like a maniac. There was a broken branch on the ground and I grabbed it and ran at him. And all the time I was shouting at her to run. The branch was useless; I was useless. He grabbed me by the throat and I was trying to get his hands off me. I think he was angrier at me for betraying him, than he was at her. It was almost like he’d forgotten about her. She could have got away. I thought she had. I thought I was going to die, but at least she’d escaped.

  ‘I kneed him in the balls and he let me go. He was doubled over and I knew I had to run. I looked around for her and I couldn’t see her. I swear I couldn’t see her.’ He put his head down on his arms again.

  ‘Ryan, you came home upset, with bruises and scratches on your throat and your hands. You went into hiding early the next morning. Then you threatened to kill yourself. Can you see how guilty that made you look?’

  He looked up and nodded. ‘Course I can. He made those marks on me, and I was hiding from him. I was terrified of what he would do to me. And there was the shooting – how long would it be before you lot came back for me? When I left home, I had no idea what had happened to Danielle. I thought she’d escaped.’

  ‘When did you find out she was dead?’

  Ryan put his head down again.

  ‘Go on, son.’

  He’d go on, as soon as he thought of a way to keep his mother out of it. He looked up. ‘Next day. I saw it on my phone, on the BBC website.’

  ‘Ryan, an item of clothing with your DNA on it was found beside Danielle’s body. What do you have to say about that?’

  As little as possible. He shook his head. ‘My DNA? Do you mean my blood? The backs of my hands were all scratched by that bastard. They were bleeding a bit, but I had all my clothes. I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Take us back to the day of the shooting and what you did with your clothes afterwards.’

  ‘You know I put them in the washing machine.’

  ‘All of them?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  Ryan took some time to think, or make them think he was thinking. He shook his head. ‘No. There was a sock.’ He tried to widen his eyes as if he was surprised. Knowing his luck, he’d just look glaikit. ‘No way. Was my sock found near Danielle? I had nothing to do with that. Why would I leave my own sock at a murder scene?’

  ‘Any idea how your sock got there?’

  He thought some more, and then he spun a tale that sounded as if it might make sense. He’d found it lying in his room just after he’d had a shower. Todd phoned then and warned him to keep his mouth shut. He’d told Todd about the sock and Todd came straight down, took it and said he’d get rid of it. His mum was in the flat, but she probably didn’t hear him sneaking out to Todd’s car. That bastard was trying to set him up.

  The wee one looked as if he didn’t believe a word. ‘This phone Todd gave you; where is it?’

  ‘I dropped it off the bridge before Galbraith arrived.’

  ‘Why would you do that?’

  He shrugged. ‘I was going to jump. Seemed no point in keeping it.’ And no, he didn’t know the number of his or Todd’s phone. In fact, Todd Curtis had more than one phone, and he changed his numbers every couple of weeks.

&
nbsp; Another break.

  *

  Ronald pushed against the fence post, testing it for strength. The half stob Joe had driven into the ground at an angle held tight. ‘Not bad for a copper. Where did you learn that?’

  Joe straightened up, rubbing his lower back. ‘A past life.’

  ‘You were a fencer?’

  He shook his head. ‘A joiner.’

  Ronald smiled and picked up a mallet. He handed it to Joe. ‘Quite a career change.’

  ‘Tell me about it. Perhaps I should have stuck to it, and I wouldn’t be in the shit right now.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t have met Carla.’

  Joe nodded. ‘True. Listen, I really wouldn’t mind finding somewhere else to stay. I don’t want to put you out. There’s a hotel in Lochmaddy, isn’t there?’

  ‘Two hotels and a number of fine guest houses, but you’re not putting me out. If Carla’s happy to have you here, I’m happy. There’s plenty of room.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Joe smiled. ‘The least I can do is take you out for a meal tonight. Right, what’s next?’

  ‘Fit the top wire, then the rylock.’

  They continued in an easy silence, the sun warm on their backs. Joe felt as if each breath of fresh salty air was erasing the stress of the last few day, steadying him, grounding him firmly to the ancient rock below. When Ronald muttered in Gaelic, it brought a memory of a summer day in Tarbert, and a small boy on his father’s shoulders. Joe turned and looked towards the hills of Harris. The distinctive shape of Ceapabhal stood out from the others. It looked so different from here; a pleasant, gentle hill. He waited for the scar to do its stuff, but it didn’t. Smiling, he carried on.

  It was some time before the spell was broken by Joe’s phone. He put the mallet on the grass, wiped his hand on his jeans, and took his phone out of his pocket. ‘It’s work; I won’t be long.’

  Ronald smiled. ‘Take your time. Good news, I hope.’

  Joe sat on the back door step. He took a deep breath. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Ah, Galbraith. Good. Wasn’t sure I’d copied your number down properly. Listen, this is probably premature, but Ryan MacRae is spilling his guts as we speak. They’ve done the shooting. Confirms what you thought; he was in the front, Todd Curtis in the back. Sounds like Gordon Sutherland was taking them to lunch, then the SNP meeting. It was as much of a shock to Ryan as it was to Sutherland when Curtis fired. He has no idea why. Something Sutherland said enraged Curtis; some quote from Shakespeare.’

  ‘What quote?

  He heard the DI scrabbling about. ‘Can’t find my pad. The way means madness or that way is madness or something along those lines.’

  Joe smiled. ‘That way madness lies? From King Lear?’

  ‘Aye, smart arse; that’s the one.’

  Joe kicked a patch of lichen off the step. He smiled as a hen raced after it. ‘Sutherland was an English teacher before he retired.’

  ‘So he probably got the quote right, and wasn’t shot for crimes against English literature. Who the hell knows except Curtis?’

  ‘Quite. What about Danielle?’

  ‘He says he tried to fight Curtis off to let her escape. He thought she’d gone, then he legged it. Thinks she probably ran the wrong way, further into the lane, and Curtis got her. It fits with the sprained ankle found at post mortem, and the scuffle in the mud – she must have got away and fallen. He confirmed she was wearing a hair clasp just like the one we found. And the signs of a scuffle nearer where her body was found – that would fit with his fight with Curtis.’

  ‘And me?’

  ‘That’s what they’re doing now. It’s been a long session. I’m hoping I might have news for you later today. How’s the Hebrides? You haven’t been stabbed, have you?’

  ‘Almost got a nail through my hand, but apart from that, I’m in one piece.’

  ‘Good. And Carla’s fine, is she? Oh, I almost forgot to say – Jackson’s surfaced. Some poor old fella beachcombing at Rosemarkie got more than he bargained for this morning. Post mortem later on today or tomorrow, but, between you and me, it looks like he had ecstasy on him, as well as in him. You didn’t slip a wee baggy into his pocket before you pushed him, did you?’

  ‘Aye, I always carry one. Comes in handy for fitting up the junkies, not to mention fellow officers.’

  Black laughed. ‘Good to see you’ve not lost your sense of humour, son. Listen, we’ve had a breakthrough, and an arrest.’ He told Joe about Katya Birze and Christopher Brent.

  Though it was good they had someone, Joe felt sorry for Sharon MacRae. She didn’t have much luck. ‘Could Brent have been involved in Sutherland’s death?’

  ‘Perhaps. That’s what the emails could suggest. On the other hand, Brent may be thanking Curtis for something else entirely. There’s a lot of work to be done. SOCO are still at Brent’s place. We’ll know more later. Keep that phone handy, and no going out to sea; I don’t want a repeat of the Harris experience when I couldn’t get hold of you or the local police. Sorry if it interferes with your love life, but I want you back here pronto as soon as MacRae spills and these numpties see they’ve got it all wrong.’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  Typical. As he cut the call, he noticed two texts from Lucy, one sent yesterday, one today.

  How r u? Call me

  Bro WRU@?

  WTF? He took a guess.

  North Uist with Carla

  He’d hardly pressed ‘send’ when her response came back. These young ones.

  Enjoy. Don’t get stabbed

  At least she could laugh about it now.

  ***

  Chapter 46

  If only Ryan had done drama at school. He’d quite fancied it, but Miss Campbell had played it all wrong. She should have told him he couldn’t do it; that always worked. Instead, she’d been too enthusiastic, tried too hard, and he had walked. He could have done with some acting skills now, as the big detective leaned towards him. ‘Let me see if I have this right. Two days ago, you thought you saw Galbraith push Jackson backwards off the Kessock Bridge, but now you think you might have been mistaken?’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘That’s about it. There were arms and legs everywhere, people shouting. I was suicidal. I…I wasn’t thinking straight. You know how it was with the shooting. I’m only now remembering what was said. It’s shock, isn’t it? It does that. In fact, I think I might have heard Galbraith say something like ‘Give me your hand, Jimmy, please’, but I’m not certain.’

  ‘Really? My difficulty…our difficulty…is that the officers that attended just after DC Jackson fell, they say you weren’t showing any signs of shock. In fact, you sounded quite vindictive when you said it, as if you were trying to get DS Galbraith into trouble.’

  ‘They would say that. Roberts and Galbraith are pals, aren’t they?’

  ‘It wasn’t just DC Roberts. They all said it. And DS Galbraith said you were angry that he hadn’t been open with you about what your mother told him.’

  ‘Wasn’t open with me? He bloody lied.’ Calm down, he told himself. He took a deep breath.

  ‘Quite. And the psychiatrist at New Craigs said she didn’t think you were suicidal at all.’

  And it had all been going so well. He was sure they believed him about Sutherland and Danielle. Maybe he should have stuck to his original story about Galbraith. But it wasn’t fair, was it? Better try a bit harder. ‘I honestly can’t tell you what I was feeling about Galbraith or Jackson or anyone else. My head was mince. It’s only clearing now. Why would I lie about this?’

  The tall one slammed his pen onto the table. ‘I don’t think you are lying about what really happened, but you’re lying about lying in the first place. Do you know what this could have done to DS Galbraith’s career, not to mention his life?’

  Ryan nodded. ‘That’s been on my mind a lot over the last few days. That’s why I asked to speak to you today, because it’s all a bit clearer now.’

  ‘Clear as mud to me. So, was Galbraith actually in the
cage with you and Jackson, like you said originally?’

  Ryan shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. Maybe he was just leaning in. I’m sorry. My head’s all confused.’ He looked at the clock. ‘We’ve been talking for a long time.’

  *

  Carla had tried to nap while Ronald and Joe were fencing. She couldn’t. It wasn’t just the tap, tap, tapping from outside. Joe’s tale was going round and round in her head and it wouldn’t stop. Two hours later, she went through to the kitchen. The men looked as if they were getting on well. No strain or forced chatter. They hadn’t noticed her.

  How was she ever going to make up her mind? Did she even have to make a decision now? Joe was smiling as he worked. He looked as contented as she had ever seen him, until he saw her. He frowned and she knew it wasn’t fair to keep him waiting for an answer. But she didn’t have one.

  She held up a mug and he nodded. Ronald shook his head. Carla knew he was desperate for a cup of tea, but he wanted to give them some time. She made him one anyway, and took it out. Joe followed her in.

  ‘I’m sorry you didn’t sleep.’ He was washing his hands at the sink. ‘It’s my fault.’

  ‘Joe…I…’

  His phone rang. She watched as he took the news. He nodded and glanced at her from time to time. ‘Thank you, Sir; I’ll check with the airport. See if I can get back tomorrow.’ He cut the call, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  ‘Good news?’

  He opened his eyes and she thought there might be tears lurking in the blue depths. ‘Yes…and…and no.’

  ‘Ryan MacRae’s told the truth?’

  Joe nodded. ‘And Jackson’s body’s been found – I heard that earlier, when you were resting. Post mortem’s about to start, but they found drugs on him.’