Blood Lines (31 page)

‘Patch? I thought he was on holiday,’ I commented.

‘You know Patch never goes on holiday – he goes to Elvis conventions. He had to delay his departure so that he could cover this. When he heard the details over the phone, he said he didn’t want to leave it to his deputy. As we sit here his head and heart are at an Elvis convention in Porthcawl.’

I was surprised that Julie and Patch were so close. He didn’t discuss his Elvis addiction with just anyone.

Now that I knew Patch had deferred his leaving, it made me even more nervous. In some way these photos must be connected to my case; nothing else would have induced him to stay.

The ten-by-eights were crammed into an envelope that was slightly too small for them; and, having been forced in, they were reluctant to leave. The corner of the envelope tore as I yanked them out, the photographs bent and curled at the corners. But not enough. Not enough to stop me seeing history repeat itself again – only Tanya had been luckier than Alex Cattanach. She was most definitely dead.

The grainy pictures showed a skinny, naked Tanya lying in the shower. Stab wounds covered her body. There were signs of strangulation and her cheeks had been slit from the corners of her lips to her ears. Grotesquely, she grinned at me.

‘You might want to be a bit more discreet with those.’ Julie’s hand obliterated the picture of Tanya, as a horror-struck mother yanked her son away from my shoulder.

I put them back in the envelope to peruse at my leisure. Something to look forward to. I had other things to discuss with Julie.

‘Something big is happening in this city. It involves Tanya Hayder, Alex Cattanach, Bridget Nicholson and me – not that I know anything about it. I’m caught up somehow and I’m buggered if I can figure it out yet. On top of that, I think that the balance of power is changing hands from Moses and the Dark Angels to someone else.’

‘Bridget Nicholson?’ Julie offered.

‘It could be – but I know Duncan Bancho is tied up in all of this, he’s completely bent. I need to know if you’ve heard any scandals, Julie, any whisperings.’

‘Personally, I think that Duncan Bancho’s clean. I know he’s impetuous and he doesn’t follow the rules, but I think he’s an okay guy. He’s been decent to me since the case, he even said he was sorry for all the trouble I’d gone through. Believe it or not, he even said I wouldn’t have been cleared unless you had been my lawyer because you’re not afraid to stand up for what’s right. You take on the establishment and no one else would.’

I drank the dregs of my cold coffee to stop myself spluttering.

‘He couldn’t buy me with a few drops of honey from his tongue. And, to be honest, Julie, I’m getting a bit suspicious about how many people are going out of their way to tell me how smashing he is.’ The tone of my voice had raised several octaves and I sounded harsh and shrewish.

I made my excuses and left. I wasn’t getting anything I needed from her and we had never been friends. Julie promised to keep in touch in that awkward way people do when they have to end a conversation they weren’t enjoying anyway. I had the feeling I wouldn’t want to hear anything she had to tell me, because it contradicted my own views. I was too like Moses in that respect – why keep ‘no’ men around?

I made my way to George Street and collected Awesome. Heading to my destination, I wondered about the friendship between Julie and Patch. I couldn’t explain it and it bothered me. I also couldn’t explain why I was so bothered about something so irrelevant, compared to everything else in my life at the minute.

When I arrived, I followed the sound of Elvis and the stench of death straight to Patch’s morgue. I knew he’d be expecting me; in light of recent developments his trip would be delayed indefinitely. I pushed open the door. A body was already lying on the slab, a sheet discreetly pulled over it. I felt sick immediately. Through the thin white cotton, I could make out the skinny form of Tanya Hayder.

‘This won’t take long. No need for me to scrub up,’ he shouted towards me as I came in.

I immediately followed him to the gurney. With the swiftness of a magician he pulled the sheet from Tanya. Death had not restored her beauty, but it had given her a kind of peace.

‘She’d lived a hard life; she’s younger than you, Brodie, yet her internal organs are in worse shape than mine. She’s in a better place now.’

‘Patch, Elvis is addling your mind. You belong to the Wee Free Kirk and they believe that right now Tanya is being roasted in hell’s fire, damned forever.’

‘Well, they can be a tad harsh at times – this lassie has been more sinned against than sinner.’

‘You must have known a different Tanya Hayder.’

I was sad. I didn’t want Patch to tell me what I already knew. I regretted my last meeting with her but I’d have to learn to live with that.

‘Anyway, she left something for you, Brodie – it’s only a copy, mind, they have the original at St Leonard’s. Unfortunately, DI Bancho is on the case, it being another one of the Slasher cases.’

‘Slasher?’

‘It’s the name the police are using. Duncan Bancho is trying to put a stop to it, he’s wary of the case being sensationalised, but he can’t stop officers talking. He’s trying to stop the press printing that there’s a serial killer on the loose.’

‘Is there?’ I asked.

‘No – there is a psychotic knife-man out and about the closes of Edinburgh but not a serial killer. The person who murdered Tanya was the same person who attacked Alex Cattanach, but – and this is something that your average Plod won’t accept – the murderer of Donna Diamond was a copycat. DI Bancho, however, has accepted my findings.’

‘What is this? Has Duncan Bancho been made a saint and no one’s told me? How come everyone’s singing the praises of a bent copper all of a sudden? Have you not heard what Moses has to say about him?’

‘You let your personal likes and dislikes cloud the issue sometimes, Brodie.’

‘No way – that guy is on the take. I’ve seen it myself, I’ve seen what he does.’

‘Brodie, think about it – what have you seen? A young man who you have irritated beyond the bounds of sanity – of that I have no doubt as he’s not the first to be put in that position – is somewhat annoyed by you. But if he’s so crooked, how come you have no proof?’

‘I have proof.’

As I said it I could feel my heels digging in. I knew I was right.

‘It’s not seemly to argue over the bodies of the deceased. It’s not seemly.’ Patch thought differently about the dead to anyone else. In some ways they were just empty containers to him, and yet in a more subtle way they were like old friends – albeit naked, hacked-up, dead friends – who he shared most of his working days with. To me, they just looked like a reason to empty my stomach.

‘The Slasher is stepping up the tempo – look at the ferocity of the stab wounds. This time they were determined the victim would not survive. Twenty-five wounds to the abdomen and legs. She was knifed in the abdomen first and must have cowered down on the floor. There are wounds on her head and her shoulders from where she must have curled up trying to protect herself. The legs were injured when she pulled them up to try to protect them – all of the marks are predominantly around the outer thigh of the left leg and further down that side. She had curled up in a foetal ball …’ Patch’s voice got quieter as he said this; both of us saw the irony of a traditionally safe position being Tanya’s final one. ‘The shower room looked like a slaughter house,’ he finished.

‘The killer must have been covered in blood – someone would have seen them leave,’ I said.

‘I have a theory on that.’ Patch always had a theory on everything. He leaned over Tanya Hayder. I didn’t go and meet him halfway, rather I leaned back towards the wall.

‘I believe the killer stripped naked and got into the shower with Tanya – I think it was someone she knew. The major injuries occurred before she started to defend herself.’

‘How do you know that?’ I asked.

‘It’s a hunch – nothing I can point to specifically yet.’

‘The cuts on the eyes – that’s not something that Alex Cattanach has. The markings on Alex’s cheeks look like Celtic spirals, and these …’ I wavered, not really knowing what I was looking at.

‘They’re runic symbols – in the past it wasn’t unusual to see this sort of thing. This almost looks like primitive, ritual cuttings, but in this case the marks are not designed to promote good health or courage. The murderer continued brutalising Tanya after she was dead, the stabbing continued, and then these slits on the eyes were made post mortem.’

‘This and the attack on Alex Cattanach? They’re not about pagan enchantment, Patch. They’re barbarism.’

‘Well, I think Duncan Bancho wants to speak to you about that. He knows that you went to see Tanya and that you had an argument; one of the other residents complained to the warden.’

‘I intend to avoid Saint Duncan until I’ve got this figured out,’ I replied.

‘Are you any closer to doing so?’

I shook my head. I couldn’t bear to hear myself speak the truth.

‘Here’s a copy of the letter Tanya Hayder wrote to you.’

Patch passed me the document. I wasn’t surprised. Prisoners write letters. They have it down to an art form. Some of my clients earn by making scrolls for other inmates to send to their loved ones. But this was no ‘scroll’. The only decoration it had on it was Tanya’s tears.

Hiya Brodie,

I’m sory we fought. I should of told you what u want
to know. specialy with u being in such bother and al
that.

I know about the vid cos I was in it.

Me and wee Moira Campbell from Pilrig Street. I
dont think u met her, nice lassie, her da was a minster
and then she got hooked on smack from some dodgy
boyfriend. Anyway, she’s ded now so u wont get any
info from her. Sometimes I think I see her hanging
about the foot of The Walk, seeing if she can pick up
a punter, but its just some other poor lassie. I think we
must all look the same, even to me.

Moira comited suicide cos of the video. She wasnt
a lesbian and I think wud was terified that her da wud
see it and that would end him. She had her principles,
altho I used to tel her not to let it bother her. I suppose
her old man wouldn’t have been too happy at the sight
of her seling herself. Don’t get me started on ministers,
though. Two-faced bastards, the lot of them.

The vid was a rite bad porno movie. It was filmed
in some solicitors office. I was going to blackmale them.
If I can only get myself some money toguther then I
can go straight. I KNOW I CAN.

I cant name names – it’s too dodgy. But Ive got a
copy of the tape – find it and youll know rite away
whose involved.

I gave it to Moira’s da – and I made him swear to
me that he would never look. He’s the minster of St
Jude’s Episcopal church in Leith.

See you soon, hunnnee. Did I say that I was sory?

Tanya xxx

I looked at Patch, who had been reading over my shoulder, and then I ran like the wind.

Chapter Forty

St Jude’s Church in Leith has its own graveyard.

As I walked through the large wrought-iron gates, Joe was already there – unsurprisingly, given that I had phoned him and asked him to collect Tanya Hayder’s package as I left the morgue. I may also have had a few words to say about the importance of getting it before Duncan Bancho did. The Rag Doll is less than five minutes from the church and – yet again – I knew Joe was my best chance of success. Patch would have enough questions to answer without making this a waste of time, so I couldn’t allow my personal feelings for Joe to mess this up. Quite apart from the small matter of my liberty, there was a serial killer at large – for, as far as I was concerned, Alex Cattanach was dead. Maybe worse than.

Nothing with Joe was ever simple, though. He was standing in the graveyard under a leafy tree. The birds were singing and beside him stood what can only be described as a broken man. The broken man was wearing a dog collar. Joe had clearly found the Reverend Campbell, Moira’s father.

I saw Joe placed his arm around Campbell and pulled him close, patting his back like a child as they stood in front of her simple gravestone, and, as I got closer, I could hear what he was saying to the man too.

‘You weren’t a bad father – you were an unlucky one. The streets of Leith are running with drugs – Moira was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. What could you have done?’

‘I’ve asked myself that every hour on the hour since I heard the news, Joe. I’ve lost my faith and I just don’t have the courage to resign from the only life I know. Moira grew up here playing in the trees. This is her final resting place – at least I know where she is at nights now. I come out and speak to her; sometimes, I think she even answers me.’

‘You’re doing good work here, Mike,’ Joe comforted him. ‘I know some of the kids you’ve rescued. You couldn’t save Moira but you’ve managed to do exactly that with many others.’

‘I couldn’t do it without your help, Joe.’

I wasn’t intending to eavesdrop – I was simply waiting for an opportune time to introduce myself – but now that Campbell had dropped that bombshell into the conversation, I hid behind the tree and planned to listen more intently. Unfortunately, Joe waved his hand at the Reverend and silenced him on the subject.