A Dark Shadow Falls

A DARK

SHADOW

FALLS

A DCI DANI BEVAN NOVEL

BY

KATHERINE

PATHAK

≈

THE GARANSAY PRESS

Books by Katherine Pathak

The Imogen and Hugh Croft Mysteries:

Aoife’s Chariot

The Only Survivor

Lawful Death

The Woman Who Vanished

Memorial for the Dead

(Introducing DCI Dani Bevan)

The Ghost of Marchmont Hall

Short Stories:

Full Beam

DCI Dani Bevan novels:

Against A Dark Sky

On A Dark Sea

A Dark Shadow Falls

≈

The Garansay Press

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means - graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems - without the prior permission in writing of the author and publishers.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

© Katherine Pathak, 2015

#ADarkShadowFalls

Edited by: The Currie Revisionists, 2015

©
Cover photograph courtesy of Transformer 18 Flickr.com/photos/transformer18

≈

The Garansay Press

PROLOGUE

A
n unassuming black Ford Focus pulled onto the driveway of a modern semi-detached property in the heart of a non-descript estate. Lyle Murphy sighed heavily before shifting his weight around and climbing out of the driver’s seat.

              The evening was windy and cold. Lyle glanced up at the house and noted it was in darkness. He wondered where Morna could possibly be. Wherever she was, her absence meant there’d be no dinner waiting for him. After the awful day he’d just had, this felt like the final insult.

              He turned his key in the lock and what immediately struck the man, as he stepped inside, was that it was just as cold in the hallway as it was out front. Lyle shrugged off his jacket and dumped his briefcase in the porch. As he went into the kitchen, he identified the source of the fierce draft whistling through the house. The back door was wide open, its top pane of glass broken into numerous pieces now scattered across the garden patio.

              ‘Morna!’ He called out warily, almost tip-toeing into the living room at the rear.

              There were no lights on anywhere in the place. This room was a mess. The television set was gone. The sofa had been upturned and magazines and papers lay strewn across the carpet. Lyle looked feverishly about him, turning on his heels and jogging up the stairs. ‘Are you here, darling? What’s happened?’

              Lyle kicked open the door to their bedroom. He stood perfectly still on the threshold, gripping the frame with both hands.

              His wife was lying face down on the double-bed, her blondish hair splayed out all around her. Lyle took a few tentative steps towards Morna, the carpet squelching under his feet. With a monumental effort of willpower, he edged closer. He identified a number of puncture wounds across his wife’s back. The carpet and bed-clothes were saturated with her blood.

              Lyle rested his hand on her bare arm, which was hanging limply by her side. The skin was stone cold. He fell to his knees on the damp floor, totally aware that he was contaminating himself and the scene. The man closed his eyes tight shut, half-hoping that whoever had done this to Morna was still in the house and was merciful enough to come back into the room and finish the job.

Chapter 1

T
he wind had finally died down. Huw Bevan’s substantial bungalow was west facing and took the brunt of the weather blowing in off the Atlantic Ocean. Dani’s father had recently fitted his windows with triple-glazing that kept out the worst of the chill. His wood-burner heated the open-plan living spaces extremely efficiently.

              Dani’s only objection to the wind was that when the gusts were at their fiercest, it became impossible to venture along the huge expanse of flat, yellow sand in the cove just a stone’s throw from her father’s house. Dani Bevan had been on Colonsay for a week already and had only managed to take their border terrier out a couple of times for a run on the beach. The poor thing was going stir crazy.

              ‘I’m taking Gillespie out for a walk,’ she called into her father’s study. The man grunted something inaudible in reply.

              Dani pulled on her thick jacket and woolly hat. She made sure the dog was securely on his lead before closing the front door and heading down to the shore. The sun was beginning to set over the clear blue water. As soon as Dani was through the gate, onto the sand, she let Gillespie run free and breathed in the crisp air as he shot off into the water.

              Bevan must have strolled into an area with better mobile reception as the phone in her pocket began buzzing insistently. Dani glanced at the screen, noting she had half a dozen messages on her voice mail. She rested her weight on a rock and held the phone to her ear, patiently listening to each one. In her line of work, staying in a place where she was almost impossible to reach suited Bevan very well. She wouldn’t be able to get a proper break otherwise. Her last case had really taken it out of her and had given Dani reason to question her own judgement. The DCI wouldn’t be returning to Pitt Street until she knew she was completely ready.

              One of the messages had piqued her interest. The rest were requests for paperwork from members of Bevan’s department. She would e-mail the relevant officers later. For the time being, Dani concentrated on watching Gill chasing his own tail in the crashing surf and savouring the golden sunset which provided the stunning backdrop to this ludicrous performance.

Huw Bevan was making a start on dinner when Dani returned to the house. She gave Gill a rub down with the towel they kept by the back door. The dog made a bee-line for his basket.

              ‘Did you see anyone whilst you were out?’ Huw asked, heaping a handful of green beans into the steamer.

              ‘I saw Jilly O’Keefe at her kitchen window. She was watching the birds settling on the headland. I gave her a wave.’ Dani dropped into one of the seats.

              ‘She would have been cursing Gill for scaring off the wildlife, I expect.’

              Dani smiled. ‘It’s quiet enough most of the time. I’m sure she wouldn’t begrudge a poor wee dog some exercise.’

              ‘Not normally, but we’ve had more visitors to our little bay than usual of late.’ Huw turned up the light under the vegetables and took the chair opposite his daughter. The man possessed a mop of silver hair and a lean physique. He was aged in his late sixties but still fit and active. ‘The landowner has sold off the old bothy beside Jilly’s place. They’ve had 4x4s and contractors up there on a regular basis for the past month. It’ll get a total refit and then be used for weekends.’

              ‘Let’s hope the disruption’s only temporary.’ Dani fiddled with the phone in her hand, finally placing it down on the oak table between them. ‘Have you heard of Eric Fisher?’

              Huw narrowed his eyes, thinking carefully about this. ‘I’m not sure,’ he replied.

              ‘He was the man who killed his wife and children at their home in Dalkeith last year. Fisher’s trial starts in a couple of weeks.’

              ‘Oh yes, I remember the case. It was an awful tragedy.’

              Dani nodded. ‘I’ve had a message from an associate of mine, someone I’ve worked with in the past. Her name is Sally Irving-Bryant QC. She’s representing Fisher at the trial.’

              ‘What does she want with you? The case occurred well outside your jurisdiction.’

              ‘Sally would like us to meet up. She wants my advice, which means the defence team must be really struggling.’ Dani sighed heavily. ‘I’m not surprised.’

              ‘In those sorts of circumstances, the defence usually claim a temporary loss of sanity. I suspect there’s a mental health issue. The man must have totally taken leave of his senses to do something like that.’

              Dani ran a hand through her neat crop of dark hair, thinking through the details of the case, which had been reported widely across Scotland.

              It was what American psychologists referred to as ‘family annihilation’ but Dani’s department in Glasgow preferred to term, ‘domestic homicide’. The family were discovered by a neighbour, who’d heard the commotion through their shared wall.

              Peggy Fisher was found lying in the hallway. She’d been stabbed several times in the chest with a knife from the kitchen. Callum, who was twelve years old, was discovered in his bedroom. There’d clearly been a tussle in there between father and son. Callum had received defensive wounds to his hands and arms but was killed by a knife wound to the back which pierced his heart.

              The three year old twins, Kyla and Skye, had been drowned in the bath. The knife hadn’t been used in the bathroom at all. No blood traces were evident in this room.

              Eric Fisher was found in the kitchen, slumped against a cupboard. The knife was still in his hand. The man had taken a handful of pills and attempted to cut his own throat, passing out before the job was complete. There was plenty of blood though. The thin linoleum was stained crimson and the neighbour slipped over in it whilst trying to reach Eric to check if he was still alive.

              Fisher was taken to hospital. After a few rough days, when his health was touch and go, he slowly began to recover. Eric Fisher wasn’t able to go on remand for six months. Now, the man was finally considered fit to stand trial.

              The case had been handled by the eastern division. Dani knew they’d pulled out all the stops. An expert was flown in from the States, where the police had more experience of these types of domestic crime. Bevan really wasn’t sure what Sally thought she could contribute. Dani had no expertise in the area at all.

              Huw looked at his daughter closely. ‘Try not to think about it whilst you’re here. This visit is supposed to be stress free.’

              ‘Of course,’ Dani said, getting up and reaching for a bottle of wine. ‘Is this one okay to have with dinner?’ She enquired of her father, rummaging in a drawer for the opener.

Chapter 2

S
ally Irving-Bryant was an attractive blond in her late forties. She’d been a lawyer for over twenty years, like her father was before her. Sally’s younger brother was a solicitor. But she and her dad forged their careers at the criminal bar, both of them earning a formidable reputation as tenacious advocates.

              Sally’s desk was always well organised. Her case notes were stored in separate colour coded files and she prided herself on never mislaying a piece of evidence. On this particular morning, the lawyer had laid out all the papers relating to the Fisher case on the desk in front of her.

              The crime scene photographs were disturbing, the very worst being those of the Fishers’ two little girls, Kyla and Skye. Despite the rest of the images containing copious amounts of blood, the sight of the girls’ poor lifeless bodies, half submerged in the water, in an environment which should have been safe and nurturing, had haunted Sally’s dreams for months. For the first time in her long career, this case was seriously testing her resolve.

              Her mobile phone began to ring. It was her husband, Grant Bryant, the CEO of Bryant Construction, one of the largest building firms in Scotland. She immediately took the call.

              ‘We’ve had a sudden break in the weather, darling,’ he announced. ‘If you still want to make that trip, now’s the time.’