Madness Lies Page 25

  ‘I know. Listen, my head’s all over the place. I was going to phone you anyway, before the doctor called. You’ve heard about the car? About Will?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s weird. He didn’t give you the impression he was about to leave?’

  ‘No. He loved it here. Sounded like he was set for life. Until he saw you coming.’

  Joe’s stomach plummeted. ‘What?’

  ‘There was a change in him when he looked through the binoculars as you were walking along the shore.’

  ‘Probably fancied you and was disappointed when he saw you had such a fine specimen of a boyfriend.’

  Carla laughed. ‘He didn’t know you were my boyfriend at that stage, and I had no idea you were there.’

  Am I still your boyfriend? Joe had to know. He had to ask. But that wasn’t the question that came out.

  *

  Betty MacLaren was bored stiff in New Craigs. Maybe it was time to go home. She was feeling better and had been for a while. She’d talk to the doctor. She was a voluntary patient. They wouldn’t want to detain her if she said she was leaving. They needed the beds for the real dafties.

  She was sick of the other patients. That Mary. Thought she was a cut above them all with her minimum intervention nonsense, but Betty had seen her at her worst. Throwing used incontinence pads at her own solicitor? If she’d even saved them for the doctors. No, that Mary had nothing to be superior about.

  And there was Big Aggie watching the Jeremy Kyle Show, and giggling like a lunatic. Betty had no time for Aggie, and even less for Jeremy Kyle. Exploiting the dafties, he was. Why did people find that amusing? It was beyond her. Ach, probably best to just go home to her own house. All on her own. No son, no Stephen.

  It wasn’t an attractive thought, but she couldn’t stay here forever. Maybe she should take more trips into the town first, ease herself in gently. There were clubs for senior citizens, things she could do. She’d look into it.

  She left Aggie with Jeremy, and went to her room to read her book about the travelling folk in Scotland. She’d have liked their life. Nothing to tie you down. Just an open road and a tent. Or a horse-drawn carriage – even better. Pearl fishing and picking the berries. Sleeping in a barn when the weather got rough, listening to the cows chewing the cud. Why hadn’t she gone her own way, done her own thing, instead of tying herself to a man, and one that didn’t deserve her? She put the book down, and lay on her side. Ach, she couldn’t regret it, could she? Not when she had her Stephen.

  She didn’t think she’d slept, but she was drowsy, right enough, when she heard tapping on the window. She turned over and the sight made her heart pound. There was a wild man at her window, with great bushy black hair and a long beard. She almost screamed, and then she looked into his eyes.

  ‘Stephen!’

  He put his finger to his lips.

  Betty checked her bedroom door was locked, then she opened the window as far as it would go. It wasn’t far enough to let her out or him in. Heaven forbid that she might try and kill herself by jumping three feet to the ground. Stephen was smiling as he took her hands. Those eyes. And now they were filling up with tears, and so were her own. ‘Mum, it’s so good to see you. How have you been?’

  ‘Never mind me. Look at the state of you. Wild man of Borneo.’

  ‘Can you get out and meet me along the road? Go left when you come out the main entrance. Just follow the hedge along a bit. I can’t stay long. I’ll have to get out of Inverness as soon as possible.’

  ‘Then just go, son, go. You’ve seen me; I’m fine. You get off.’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t go without a hug, can I?’

  Betty was certain no one saw her leave the ward, except a couple of visitors, and they probably thought she was a visitor too. She was much better dressed than the other patients. Shower of scruffs and simpletons.

  She followed the hedge until it became a low drystone wall. As she neared a gap in the wall, she felt a hand on her sleeve, and then they were in each other’s arms and she was breathing in his smell. That smell hadn’t changed since he was a boy. Her boy. How she’d missed him. They’d kept in touch by phone, though they didn’t often speak. It was too risky, in case someone heard her. He’d given her the phone with plenty credit on it before he left. Told her to keep it hidden, and she’d done that. No one knew she had it, or that she could text just as fast as the youngsters. Sometimes she played the dafty and asked stupid questions about their fancy phones, in front of the staff. That way, if anyone ever came asking, the staff would tell them there was no way Betty could use a mobile phone to keep in touch with her boy. There was only one number on her phone. Well, until recently. Two now.

  ‘My darling boy.’ He probably didn’t hear her with all that hair, but never mind. He felt robust enough, and when they pulled away from each other, she saw that his skin and his eyes were clear, and he looked as healthy as she’d ever seen him. If only it wasn’t for all that hair. She shook her head.

  ‘Don’t worry, Ma; it’s going soon. My mate gave me a lift up; I’m going back to his to chop it off. A couple of people to see, then I’ll have to leave the town. I’m on a kind of a…a secret mission. Undercover sort of thing.’

  ‘Aye, son.’ Think your old mother’s daft, do you? ‘I always said you’d go far.’

  ‘It’ll be further this time. Maybe America. What do you think? You can come and see me when I get settled.’

  She nodded. ‘Sounds like a plan.’ She’d heard the young ones saying that. ‘I’m thinking of going home. It’s no use in there.’

  ‘Are you sure, Mum?’

  ‘What else can I do? Can’t stay there forever. I’m doing well.’

  He smiled. ‘I can see that.’

  Such love in his eyes as he stroked her face. She didn’t really deserve his love. She’d been a hopeless mother. He wouldn’t be in this situation now if it wasn’t for her. ‘You better not come to the house, son.’

  ‘I know. But we can keep in touch by phone. If you’re home, you’ll be able to speak to me any time. No one listening in.’

  ‘Aye, that’ll be great. You better get off.’ She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a bundle of notes. ‘You’ll be needing that.’

  He shook his head. ‘I can’t take your money. You’ll need it yourself when you go home.’

  ‘There’s more where that came from. Just you let me know if you’re running short. Maybe you’ll have an address that I can send money to next time.’

  ‘Thank you, Mum. I love you.’

  ‘I love you too, son.’

  She was walking away when he called out to her. ‘Lucy? How was she?’

  ‘She looked lovely, son. Bright and happy. Don’t you worry about her.’

  As she passed the bus stop, Betty turned and blew her son a kiss. He looked lonely as he walked away.

  She didn’t want to go in, so she sat on a bench behind the ward. Though she liked to look out over the town, today she didn’t see it. She was remembering Stephen as a boy. He’d been such a good boy, always looking after her when she was so drunk she couldn’t look after either of them. And he was always honest. Not today, though. On a mission, indeed. She wasn’t that daft. He was on the run, had been ever since he’d killed that Moira Jacobs and tried to kill those Galbraiths last year. Couldn’t blame him. Moira Jacobs was a nasty piece of work, and those Galbraiths…she shook her head. Lucy might be a beautiful wee girl, but it didn’t bear thinking about what that family did to her and Stephen. He deserved a medal, her boy. They’d tried to tell her he’d killed her sister, Jean, but she didn’t believe that. That old bitch was rotten inside; her death was nothing to do with Stephen.

  ***

  Chapter 52

  DI Black’s eyes were mournful, his great long jowls shivering as he invited Joe into his office. He was miserable at the best of times, but now he looked as if he was about to tell Joe that Todd Curtis had massacred and eaten every member of both their families. He shook his
head and said nothing.

  Joe frowned. He had things to do. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Son, sit down. This is going to come as a shock. I’m sorry.’

  Joe didn’t sit. He’d had a few shocks in the last few days. What now?

  DI Black took a deep breath, and exhaled in a loud sigh. ‘The car, the prints: they’re Stephen MacLaren’s.’

  Joe laughed and shook his head. That was impossible. Stephen MacLaren was dead, drowned. He must be. No one could have survived in that water. Lucy wouldn’t have lasted much longer if the local PC hadn’t rescued her. His legs felt a little weak, so he sat. ‘He can’t be, Sir; it’s a mistake. I saw that man last night; it wasn’t him. And how could he have got to Uist last year, when all the ports were monitored?’

  ‘Look.’ He passed the report to Joe. ‘See for yourself.’

  Joe read the report. Prints in the car and on the door handles and kitchen table.

  And he remembered Carla’s words: there was a change in him when he looked through the binoculars as you were walking along the shore.

  Nausea rising in his throat, he looked up. ‘MacLaren was in Ronald MacKenzie’s house last night?’

  The DI nodded.

  ‘But he could have…’

  ‘Aye, but he didn’t. Had to leave clues, though. He couldn’t just go quietly, take someone else’s car. He had to let you know just how close he was. Typical nutjob. I’ve sent Roberts and Lewis up to New Craigs. MacLaren’s had a few hours on the loose. He probably got off the bus at Cluanie to throw us off the scent, but he could be in Inverness by now. Maybe he’s been up to see his mother.’

  *

  Someone said her name and Betty jumped. It was that detective, the nice tall one that came to see her last year, when they were looking for Stephen. He had a blonde piece with him, a tart if ever there was one. Talk about full of herself with her purple suit and her glittery sandals. She wasn’t going to catch many criminals wearing those, was she?

  ‘Betty?’ the tart said.

  Betty ignored her. She smiled at the detective. ‘I can’t remember your name, son.’

  ‘Roberts; DC Roberts, Mrs MacLaren.’ He frowned at the tart. ‘This is DC Lewis.’

  Betty nodded. ‘Have you got any news for me? Have you found my Stephen? There’ll not be much left of him.’

  She saw the shock on the tart’s face, followed by a tight smile. ‘That’s just it, Betty,’ the tart said, ‘we have reason to believe Stephen’s not dead.’

  Betty’s howl was loud enough to waken the dead. She glanced in the direction of Tomnahurich Cemetery, just to make sure. All quiet. Her hands covering her face, she rocked back and fore until she felt a touch on her shoulder. Better not be that tart, or she’d bite her hand off. It was Roberts.

  ‘Mrs MacLaren, I’m sorry to upset you. It’s just that Stephen’s fingerprints have been found in a caravan and a car in North Uist. And we’re pretty certain he left Uist by ferry this morning and got on a bus. We think he got off before Inverness, but he could be making for the town.’

  ‘No, no, no.’ Betty shook her head. ‘You’re just trying to mess up my head. If my boy had been alive, he’d have been in touch with me long before now. He wouldn’t do that to his mother. This is just a cruel trick.’

  ‘No, Betty.’ The tart crouched in front of her. ‘It’s not a trick. I know it’s – ’

  Betty pushed her and she fell on her backside. ‘Keep her away from me. I don’t like her. She’s telling lies.’

  The tart was standing now, rubbing at the seat of her trousers and giving Betty evils. Roberts nodded at her to get out of the way and let him in. He sat beside Betty, and took her hand. ‘I know it’s hard to take in. We think he’s grown his hair, and a full beard.’

  ‘Never. Not my boy. Hates facial hair, he does. No. You’ve got the wrong man.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right, Betty. We’ll look into it further. But if he does get in touch with you, you will let us know, won’t you?’

  Betty shook her head. ‘He won’t get in touch unless it’s through one of those dafties on the TV. They pretend they can speak to the dead. Con artists, they are. Charlatans.’

  ‘A psychic?’

  ‘Whatever. My Stephen will have nothing to do with the likes of them. I tell you, he’s dead and gone. A mother knows.’

  How long had she given Stephen to get away? Not long enough. Another howl and more rocking. A plea for them to get someone to help her. Some muttering and mumbling to Roberts, while the tart went to find a nurse.

  When the nurse arrived, Betty clung to Roberts’ arm. ‘Don’t leave me, son.’ And the good boy that he was, he came back into the ward with her, the tart trailing behind, her little heels clip-clopping all the way along the corridor.

  Betty managed to stretch it out for a good forty five minutes. Anything for her boy. She managed to avoid a sedative too. She wasn’t taking any more of that junk.

  *

  No way had Betty had any contact from Stephen, Roberts told Joe and the DI; he’d bet his life on it. She was more lucid than she was last year, and the staff had said she was doing really well, but she was still fragile. The staff hadn’t seen anything untoward and they confirmed she didn’t have a mobile phone, and wouldn’t know how to use one.

  The DI frowned. ‘What do you think, Lewis?’

  Tina Lewis shrugged. ‘Hard to say. I’m not as convinced as Roberts that she wasn’t playing us, but I guess he knows her better than I do. There was something odd about it.’

  ‘There was nothing odd about it,’ Roberts said. ‘Except that she didn’t like you.’

  ‘That’s very odd, isn’t it?’ Tina winked and Roberts blushed.

  ‘Lewis’, DI Black said, ‘you’re coming with me. Allingham’s brief has arrived. Galbraith, you need to see your sister.’

  ***

  Chapter 53

  Lucy hadn’t achieved much today. The office had been quiet and she’d spent most of the day reading appeal cases from the Mental Health Tribunal, but nothing had gone in. She liked Drew. He was smart and funny. Older than her, probably by about ten years or so. But what was going on? If he didn’t live with Maya’s mother, why not drop the child off first last night, instead of her? And then there was the text from Sebastian. It had come mid-morning.

  Lucy, please get in touch. I really need to speak to you. Sxx

  She’d typed a response telling him he was the last person she wanted to speak to, but she’d deleted it. Much as he’d hurt her, she didn’t want to be rude. Blocking his number was probably the best thing to do. She’d do it later.

  She looked at her watch. It was almost home time. And then another text arrived. It was Joe. Could they meet?

  She’d hoped to see Joe looking much better. She knew his trip to Uist had been cut short; he’d texted her this morning to say he was back at work. He wasn’t as green around the gills as he had been when she left him the morning after the night before, but he was looking very worried. She put her hand on his arm. ‘Is Carla okay?’

  For a moment, his face relaxed. He almost smiled. ‘I think she’s going to be fine.’

  ‘Brilliant. And the investigation’s been dropped – that’s fantastic.’

  He nodded. ‘Aye, it’s good.’

  ‘So what’s wrong? When did you ever ask to meet up during a major investigation?’

  ‘A major investigation that’s going nowhere, while the bodies pile up.’ His shoulders were slumped as he stirred his coffee.

  ‘Bodies?’

  ‘Another two.’

  ‘Grim. Were you hoping to pick my criminology brain? I got the highest mark in the class for my dissertation.’

  He smiled. ‘You’re all right. Listen, I’ve got some bad news. I’m really sorry.’

  Lucy felt her stomach plummet. Their parents were leaving Lanzarote today, due home tomorrow. ‘What? Is it Mum and Dad?’

  ‘It’s Stephen.’

  Her heart was racing. ‘His body’s been foun
d?’

  Joe shook his head. ‘Not exactly. He’s not dead.’

  Lucy’s coffee went cold as she listened. When Joe finished, she put her hand on his. ‘He could have killed you last night.’

  ‘He didn’t. I’m more worried about you. Be careful, Lucy. I don’t know if he came to Inverness. He could be miles away already.’

  Lucy glanced out the window, just as Drew was passing, on his way back from a meeting. He looked at her hand on Joe’s. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Flustered, Lucy took her hand away. And then her phone rang.

  Joe nodded at the phone. ‘Are you not going to get that?’

  She shook her head and rejected the call. ‘It’s Sebastian.’

  ‘What does he want?’

  Lucy shrugged. ‘He’s sent a couple of texts but I haven’t answered. I’m going to block his number.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I better let you go.’

  ‘I’m coming to stay at the house tonight, and until he’s found. Keep the doors locked when you get home. I’ll speak to the DI about having the house watched.’

  *

  Was she being watched? The town was busy, everyone hurrying home from work. He could be anywhere. Lucy had intended to go straight home, until she realised she’d left her jacket at the office with her house keys in the pocket. As she passed Drew’s room, she could hear him on the phone. She’d get her jacket and leave as quickly as she could. Maybe she’d get a taxi. Home didn’t seem all that attractive on her own.

  Her phone rang again. Bloody Sebastian. She’d had enough of this. ‘What the hell do you want? Haven’t you got the message? I’m not interested.’

  Only it wasn’t Sebastian.

  Drew stuck his head round the door. ‘Have you not got a home to go…Lucy, are you all right?’

  She shook her head.