Candles and Roses (7 page)

He turned back to where Fraser was still standing, hanging back nervously from the cave entrance.

‘The pirates have already been, Fraser,’ Craig said, his mouth dry. ‘I think we’d better call the police.’

***

It was only once the front door had closed behind them that McKay realised how tense he’d been feeling. ‘Jesus fucking Christ. No wonder she left home.’

Horton watched in amusement as he unwrapped a stick of gum, pushed it into his mouth and began to chew furiously. She could see what he wanted more than anything, at that moment, was a cigarette.

‘Cut them some slack,’ she said. ‘You can never tell how people will respond to news like that.’

‘Ach.’ He stomped down the garden path. ‘That old bastard couldn’t give a bugger about the poor lass.
Either
of the poor lassies. We were just interrupting his viewing of
Countdown
.’

‘I’m not sure that’s entirely fair—’ The Scotts’ bungalow was on a slightly bleak residential estate just outside the village. Horton could almost feel the net curtains twitching as they returned to the car.

‘Bloody God-botherer,’ McKay continued. ‘God’s fucking judgement, for Christ’s sake.’

‘OK, I get the point.’ Horton looked at McKay across the roof of the car. ‘What about the wife, though? What did you make of her?’

McKay took a breath. ‘Aye, that was interesting. She knew a few things the old man didn’t.’

‘That was my impression. As if she’d been in touch with her daughter more recently than she was letting on.’

‘My guess is Scott won’t be keen on us talking to them separately. But I think we should.’

They climbed into the car. McKay was fiddling with his phone, checking e-mails and texts. ‘Oh, Christ.’

‘What?’

‘You should stop off back at the Scotts so I can ask him just what the fuck his God thinks he’s up to.’

‘What is it?’

‘You need to head back out to the Black Isle. We’ve another one.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘How the fuck did she get out here?’

Even the police had had problems reaching the spot. In the end, they’d brought a 4x4 down through the farmland at the rear of the beach. Even so, they could get only to within fifty or so metres of the cave itself. A couple of officers would have to carry the body back up in due course

‘We think pretty much the same way we got down here,’ DC Mary Graham said. She’d been delegated down here by Grant to hold the fort for CID until McKay and Horton arrived. Graham cut an imposing figure, tall and with a main of thick blonde hair around an angular face that suggested a Viking ancestry. McKay knew she’d have taken no nonsense, ensuring the scene was properly protected until the examiners arrived and organising one of the uniforms to keep people away from this part of the beach.

‘They wouldn’t have come through the farm, though?’

‘There’s another entrance to the fields a quarter of a mile or so before then. I haven’t had chance to check it yet but the most likely route would be through there and across the fields. You can get pretty close to the beach.’ Graham was a local, who’d spent her early years in Fortrose.

‘Still be conspicuous to bring a vehicle over there at night, wouldn’t it?’ Horton asked. ‘Not exactly a bustling metropolis here.’

‘I don’t know,’ McKay said. ‘Modern 4x4s are pretty quiet. These farmers tend to be early to bed and early to rise types. It would be a risk, but not a huge one.’

‘But why take it at all? Why bring a body down here, of all places?’

‘Christ knows,’ McKay said.

The three of them were standing outside the cordon that had been erected around the cave. Two white-suited examiners were busy inside. ‘How long’s old Jock Henderson going to be?’ McKay asked.

‘Not long, he reckoned. Fifteen, twenty minutes.’

Across the firth, they could see the orange walls of the fortress at Fort George. A couple of boats were heading out towards the open sea. ‘What the fuck is this?’ McKay asked, after a pause. He sounded as if he genuinely wanted an answer. ‘Who the fuck kills two young lasses, and then lays the bodies out like some kind of sodding state funeral?’

‘A lunatic?’ Horton offered. She turned to Graham. ‘Who was it found the body?’

‘A bloke and his young son. They’d walked out here so he could show the son the cave. I took a statement from them and got their details.’

‘You didn’t hold on to them?’ McKay asked.

‘Well, no,’ Graham said. ‘He looked shaken and the boy was upset. They’d been intending to grab some lunch so I let them go. Sorry. ‘

McKay had felt a momentary irritation at Graham’s actions but knew he was being unreasonable. Graham was a good reliable copper. She’d have taken a decent statement. She’d have got the man’s contact details and made sure his footprints could be eliminated from any others that might be found outside the cave. There was probably nothing more the man could tell them. ‘Ignore me. Ginny will tell you I’m not in the best of the moods.’

‘It’s his time of the month,’ Horton said. ‘Runs from the first through to the thirtieth or thirty-first. Shorter in February, for which we’re all grateful.’

‘Very funny,’ McKay growled. ‘No, you did good,’ he said to Graham.

She shuffled uncomfortably on the damp sand. ‘I’ll go and see how the examiners are getting along,’ she said.

‘What is it, Alec?’ Horton said when Graham had walked off.

‘What’s what?’

‘You’ve been like a bear with a sore arse ever since we left Culbokie.’

‘Ach, I don’t know. That bastard Scott, I suppose. Fucking Christian hypocrite. Loves our Jesus Christ, but can’t bring himself to love his own fucking daughter.’

‘People show their love in different ways.’

‘And he showed his by throwing her out of the fucking house?’

‘She walked out.’

‘Because he made her. Because his own morality was more important than his love for his daughter. Who knows what he did to the poor lass.’

‘You don’t, for a start. And neither do I. And you don’t know what he’s going through now. Not inside.’

McKay made no response, but stood, chewing rhythmically, staring at the open sea. Finally, he turned and said: ‘Let’s go see whether Jock Henderson’s finally got his act together.’

They arrived back at the cave as the two examiners were emerging. Henderson pulled back his white hood and stood blinking in the noonday sun.

‘What’s the matter, Jock?’ McKay asked. ‘Don’t they normally let you out in daylight?’

‘Just the shock of seeing your ugly mug, Alec.’

‘What have we got?’

‘Young girl. Similar age to the last one. Maybe mid-twenties. Death from asphyxiation, again, I’d say.’

‘Any signs of chloroform?’ McKay tried, not entirely successfully, to keep a note of mockery from his voice.

‘Aye. Burns round the mouth. Same MO as the last one, I’d say. Though I think this one might have been more difficult for the killer. Looks like she might have vomited. Maybe choked on her vomit, with her mouth held firmly shut. Imagine the doc will confirm.’

‘Any ID?’

‘She was naked like the last one. A few more tattoos this time, so you might have some luck with those. I’ll get the photos over to you. Dyed blonde hair. Skinny little thing.’

‘And roses and candles again?’

‘Aye. Like up at Munlochy. The body wasn’t buried this time. Ground in there’s too hard to make it feasible. It was wrapped in plastic sheeting. We’ll have a look at that and see if we can get anything from it.’

‘How long’s she been here?’

‘I’m pretty sure she was placed here last night. In this kind of weather people walk up here to explore the caves, so if she’d been here longer she’d have been spotted. I’d say she’d been dead for maybe three or four days before that.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Might be a bit more chance than there was last time of getting some DNA traces, given the body’s not been here long and it’s been under cover.’

‘If there’s any on there, other than the victim’s.’

‘As you say. No sign of any fingerprints, certainly. But you wouldn’t expect someone who goes to these lengths to be that stupid.’

‘You reckon this is likely to be the same killer?’

‘Well, I’d say so, wouldn’t you? You haven’t released any details of how the first victim died, so it’s not a copy-cat killing.’

‘So we’ve got a random multiple killer on our hands,’ McKay said. ‘Helena Grant’s going to be so pleased.’

‘More your problem than mine, pal.’ Henderson sounded more pleased than any man who’d just finished examining a murdered corpse had a right to be. ‘The report will be with you in due course.’

‘As always, quicker than that,’ McKay said. ‘Much quicker.’ He turned away, then looked back over his shoulder. ‘Pal.’

***

McKay dropped Horton off back at Divisional Headquarters and continued back through the city to his house on the outskirts. He expected to be pulling a late one tonight—and possibly for the foreseeable future—so he wanted to square things with Chrissie in person, rather than trying to do it over the phone. It probably wouldn’t help but it was worth a shot. In any case, the journey would give him a bit of time to himself and he felt he needed that just at the moment.

Chrissie was in the kitchen when he arrived, preparing something for their suppers. Not the most auspicious of starts. ‘Jesus,’ she said, ‘you made me jump. What the hell are you doing back at this time? Have they finally sacked you?’

Lovely to see you too, dear, he thought. ‘They’ve still not found me out. But I’ll need to work late tonight. So I thought I’d pop in on my way past.’

She took it better than he’d expected. ‘I saw the latest on the lunchtime news,’ she said. ‘Sounds like another one?’

‘Looks that way,’ he said. ‘Which isn’t good news for anyone.’

‘Least of all us,’ Chrissie said. She looked at the casserole dish into which she had been carefully dicing vegetables. ‘I’m just doing a stew,’ she said. ‘It’ll keep till you get back. Whenever that is.’ She allowed just the faintest edge of bitterness to creep into her tone.

‘Aye, I know, Chrissie. Look, I’m sorry—’

‘I know you’re sorry, Alec. You’re always sorry. It doesn’t help.’

‘I know—’

She held up a hand as if stopping traffic. ‘Don’t, Alec. We’ve been through it. It doesn’t go anywhere. There’s no point in having another argument.’

As if I’d been the one trying to provoke it, he thought. He could feel his irritation rising. The anger and despair he’d felt when speaking to that bastard up in Culbokie came back into his throat like bile. This was how it always seemed to be these days. As if she wanted to needle him just enough and then stamp the lid firmly back if he tried to respond. In his more rational moments, he knew he did the same. It was like probing a loose tooth. You could never stop yourself until the damn thing dropped out.

‘No,’ he said, finally, ‘you’re right. There’s no point. Everything’s been said. It doesn’t help us to keep saying it.’

She looked, for a moment, as if she were about to argue after all. ‘No, you’re right. It doesn’t.’

‘I’ll give you a call when I’m on my way back. I hope it won’t be too late.’

‘No, well. I know it’s important. Those poor wee lassies. It’s frightening just to think about it.’

‘Whoever’s doing this is a mad bastard, right enough.’

‘Look, Alec, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m a cantankerous old bitch, just like you’re a miserable old bastard. But at the end of the day we’re on the same side. We’re having to deal with the same things. We’re both suffering. We need to help each other.’

‘Aye, you’re right,’ he said, finally. ‘I’ve had a bad time today. Went up to see the parents of the first victim—we’ve managed to ID her now. God-bothering old bugger up in Culbokie. Cared more about his precious Bible than he did about his murdered daughter.’

‘Alec—’

‘Aye, I know. Get a bit of perspective. But bastards like that don’t deserve any perspective.’ He paused. ‘And then we got the call about the second body. They found her in this bloody cave just up from Rosemarkie. I watched as they carried her body away. She was just a poor wee slip of a thing—’ He could feel, embarrassingly, the tears welling behind his eyes.

Chrissie took his hand in hers. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d made a gesture like that. She was still the same woman he’d married, he thought, the fiery redhead who used to drag him on to the dance-floor and made damn sure he had a good time, whether he wanted to or not. But she looked shrunken now, her shoulders stooped, streaks of grey in that copper hair. ‘Alec. I
know
. I understand,’ she said. ‘Nobody else does. Nobody else can. But I do. I’m there as well, you know?’

He wanted to say it wasn’t a fucking competition. But he knew that hadn’t been what she’d meant. She meant, he thought, that they were both burning in the same hell. But at least they were there together. For what that was worth.

‘Aye, pet, I know,’ he said. ‘We struggle on, eh? That’s all we can do.’

‘That’s all we can do.’

He released her hand and, giving her a kiss on the lips that felt more perfunctory than he’d intended, he turned and left her standing in the kitchen. He felt as if he should stay longer, do something for her. Above all, he felt as if there should be more words, but he hadn’t a clue what they might be.

CHAPTER TEN

‘Penny for them,’ Horton said. They were driving through town to visit Danny Reynolds, Katy Scott’s one-time boyfriend. Horton was at the wheel. They’d hit what passed for rush hour up here, and the traffic was clogged and slow-moving. McKay had never been able to work out how the Highland traffic authorities could contrive so many tail-backs from such a small population.

As it had turned out, it hadn’t taken them long to track Reynolds down. He was still on the PNC, with a recorded caution for possession, the best part of ten years before. The address had been out of date, but Horton had identified three Daniel Reynolds on the electoral role. A couple of telephone calls later, and they’d pinned down the correct one.