The Elemental (Blair Dubh Trilogy #1) (25 page)

“
Fine by me. Can you convince him to turn that racket off before I lose my mind?”

“
Will do Betty.”

Craig nodded at Steve and the two of them raced upstairs and into Adam
’s bedroom. The heavy rock music was so loud they had to clamp their hands over their ears but the room was empty.

“
Shit, where is he?” said Craig, switching off the stereo.

“
Good thing about small villages, there’s only so many places you can hide,” replied Steve. “But it breaks his alibi. His gran thought he was up here and he isn’t, so it’s possible he wasn’t here when each of the women were killed.”

Craig nodded in agreement, eyes wandering about the room.
“This is just weird.”

Every spare inch of wall was covered in posters, mainly films; Clockwork Orange, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Silence of the Lambs, Psycho, if it involved murder Adam liked it.

“Look at these books,” said Steve, peering at a shelf clinging to a wall. “Bundy, Gacy, Tobin, Dahmer, they’re all about serial killers.”

Craig snapped on a pair of latex gloves.
“Let’s search it.”

The only thing they found was a scrapbook about the original Elemental Murders hidden under the bed, newspaper clippings photocopied from the original editions. There was even a photograph of a young Freya with her long blond hair, the sympathetic figure as the only child of the last victim. There wasn
’t one mention of Logan because the Procurator Fiscal at the time made sure his name was kept out of it.

“
If he is the killer it makes sense why he went for Freya, but why the others? If he idolised Logan then surely Claire should have been sacrosanct to him?” said Craig. “Why kill her? She would have been an endless font of information about her son. And why choose Brenda and Catriona, out of all the women in the village? Surely Betty and Joanie would have been much easier targets, less able to put up a fight.”

“
Did they have anything to do with the original victims?”

“
No, they weren’t related. Other than the fact they were neighbours there was nothing. Dammit, something’s linking these four women, just like they did Logan’s victims, there’s a pattern to it that we’re just not seeing.” He thought back over Freya’s past, the only one he knew. Drugs, drink, violence, none of these things affected any of the other women, he was sure of it. He pulled out his mobile phone and called Gary, relieved when it connected, a sure sign the storm was on its way out.

“
How’s things?” Craig asked him.

“
Quiet. Freya’s just woken up, I made her some toast.”

“
That’s good news,” he said, relieved. “We’ve got a suspect. Adam Michie.”

“
The young blond lad?”

“
That’s the one. We’ve found a lot of creepy serial killer stuff in his bedroom and he knows something about the original crimes that no one else does. If he comes to the house do not let him in, it’s vital he doesn’t get near Freya and it’s possible he’ll try for her again.”

“
Understood. Want me to nick him if I see him?”

“
If at all possible but your priority is protecting Freya.”

“
Got it Sarge.”

“
Good. The storm’s on its way out. I’ll call the DI. This nightmare will soon be over.”

“
Thank Christ for that,” he said before hanging up.

“
We need to find Adam before he gets to Freya,” Craig told Steve, slipping his phone back in his pocket. “You keep searching the room, I’ll have a word with Betty.”

“
Okay.”

“
Betty, Adam’s not in his room,” he said as he entered the sitting room to find her still knitting.

“
Funny, he went up but I never heard him come back down.”

“
I’m not surprised with that music playing. Could he have gone out without you knowing?”

“
I suppose he could have gone out the back way. My hearing isn’t what it was.”

“
He’s certainly interested in serial killers, isn’t he?”

“
I know, it’s really quite morbid. I always encouraged him to find healthier pursuits like stamp collecting or bird watching, but if it didn’t involve blood and guts he wasn’t interested. He’s been like that since he was a bairn.”

“
Why do you think that is?” he said, trying to sound casual.

“
I blame the television, all those violent programmes. He was always questioning me about The Elemental Murders, I mean the original ones. He was only wee when it happened, he doesn’t remember it.”

“
And what did you tell him?” he said, wondering if Adam’s knowledge about the alleged first victim came from her.

“
Just what happened and about poor little Freya. No one else believed her about Father Logan but I did.”

“
Why?”

“
That man had a dark side. Do you know he believed in witches?”

“
No,” he replied, thinking of the books he’d found.

“
You probably don’t remember but before my eyesight went I ran the library at West Kilbride. He was always asking me to order in bizarre books, I couldn’t even read some of the titles because they were in Latin. I used to dread it when he handed over another request. He arranged for a few speakers to come to the Community Centre claiming it was of local historical interest. Funny how that interest was always about witches. He once asked me if I believed in them. When I said no he told me he did, that they existed right here and now and were making him do bad things. I told him he was ‘aff his heid. He didn’t appreciate that and tried to give me one of his lectures. He soon stopped when I said the Archbishop wouldn’t approve if he found out what he liked to read. Never had a civil word for me after that, always tried to intimidate me with his big staring eyes but I was never afraid of him. Unlike everyone else I thought he was ridiculous. Your dad came to see me one night a few days after poor Rose Macalister died and I told him about that strange conversation with Father Logan. He said he thought Logan was having an affair with Rose then swore me to secrecy. I haven’t told anyone that in fifteen years, I always keep my promises, but I think Pete wouldn’t mind me telling you.”

Craig smiled.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t.”

“
We came to the conclusion that Father Logan thought every woman he’d been sexually attracted to was a witch, casting a spell on him to make him stray from the path of God, it was his way of atoning for his sin.”

“
Did you ever hear about a victim before Lorna MacDiarmid, the first victim?”

“
No, can’t say I did. Pete was sure our theory was correct because Logan was always preaching about the sin of women.”

His words struck a chord deep within him.
“The sin of women?”

“
He was always saying how all the evils of the world stemmed from Eve biting into the forbidden apple. I mean how stupid, it’s not like any of us were living back then, is it? I found him very offensive. Most of the other women were too afraid of him ever to object and took what he said to heart. I remember Lorna found him as ridiculous as I did, your mum too, although she kept that quiet.”

“
You laughed at him?”

“
Not outright, but we did talk. We called him Father Hell, behind his back of course, because that was where he was always telling us our souls were going.”

“
Did the women who died laugh at him too?”

“
Oh yes. The younger ones tended to, it was the older section of the village who thought he was their own personal God.”

“
The sins of women,” murmured Craig, recalling the roses pressed between pages from the Bible describing Eve and the forbidden fruit. Freya’s words about her past hit him all at once. “Abortion.”

“
What?”

“
Nothing Betty. You’ve been so helpful, thank you,” he said, kissing her on her wrinkled cheek before rushing back upstairs. “That’s the link between the women, the abortions,” he told Steve, all excitement. “Freya had one years ago. Mum said it was rumoured Brenda got pregnant when she had an affair. What if it was true?”

“
Did Catriona? And what about Claire Logan? She was a devout woman, would she have done that?”

“
Damn,” he said, he’d been sure he was finally onto something. “Let’s just say for argument’s sake that she did.”

“
Really, her?”

“
You heard her at the Parish House, she said her son was still visiting her. She was going senile. What if someone was pretending to be Logan? If they dressed and spoke right she might have thought it was him. She would have been willing to tell him anything.”

“
Possible and we did find the priest’s robes in the church but abortion only links two of the victims.”

“
Let’s talk to Bill about Brenda.”

“
Is that wise? What if he didn’t know about the abortion? He might not if it was the result of an affair.”

“
Good point. Let’s ask Lizzy first, she’s been one of her best friends for years.”

CHAPTER 18

Craig and Steve tried to be casual about scouring the pub for Adam and were disappointed. He still wasn’t there. However they did find Lizzy sipping a glass of wine next to Bill, who was drowning his sorrows in pints of lager with whisky chasers. The big man hauled himself to his feet and leaned heavily on the table in an attempt to remain upright.

“
Craig, how’s Freya?”

“
She’ll be fine.”

“
I’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears spilling down his face. “Because of me she could have ended up like my Bren.”

His genuine sorrow finally started to thaw Craig to him.
“I’m sure she’ll see you when she’s a little stronger.”

“
I hope so, I have to explain…” He released a belch, the smell of which caused Craig to recoil.

“
You’ll get the chance, I promise. Why don’t you sit down before you fall down?” he said gently.

Bill slumped back in his seat and stared miserably into his pint.

“Lizzy, can we have a word in private?”

“
Me?” she said, panic-struck.

“
Don’t worry you’re not in trouble.”

“
Oh, okay then,” she said, getting up from the table and following them into the back room.

“
It’s about Brenda,” opened Craig. “This might sound strange and I can’t explain my reasons for asking you this but it’s vital to the investigation.”

“
Go on then.”

“
Did she ever have an abortion?”

“
Oh God, I knew this would come out one day.”

“
So she did?”

She nodded.
“It was when Bill was away working on the oil rigs. She had a fling with an old friend of Gordon’s, a soldier. Two months after he left she found out she was pregnant. I went with her while she had it done. Bill came home and he was none the wiser.”

“
Who else knew about this?”

“
No one, just me.”

“
And you didn’t tell anyone?”

“
Course not,” she replied, affronted.

“
Did Claire Logan ever have an abortion?”

The idea was so ridiculous she actually sniggered.
“Claire? Are you joking?”

“
No I’m not Lizzy.”

Her face fell at his serious expression.
“If she did it must have been donkey’s years ago and I’m certain she didn’t go broadcasting it.”

“
Is there anyone who might know?”

“
Not that I can think of. Old Doctor Booth died years ago.”

“
Right, that’s all and keep our little chat to yourself.”

“
I will, it’s the last thing I want Bill to hear. Bren told him about the soldier but not the abortion, she couldn’t bear to hurt him anymore than she already had.”

“
Thanks Lizzy,” he said softly before getting to his feet. He stopped to ask Gordon if Adam had been in, but he hadn’t. Craig stepped outside and looked up and down the street, glad that it was actually possible to see towards the outskirts of the village. It was still raining but it was more like a heavy shower than an icy downpour.

“
I’m calling the DI,” he said, moving round the side of the pub to shelter from the wind.

DI Armstrong shouted and swore when he told her there
’d been another murder and that Freya had almost died. He didn’t even get a pat on the back for saving her.

“
But we have a suspect,” he said, interrupting the torrent of abuse. “Adam Michie, aged twenty two. He’s fascinated with serial killers and he knows about a victim of the original Elemental Murders fifteen years ago that no one else does, he said she was buried alive before Lorna MacDiarmid was killed, the first victim.”

“
I’ll look into it,” her cold voice replied.

“
The storm’s starting to blow itself out, you might be able to make it in soon.”

“
We’re on our way. I’ll organise a team. Any casualties so far?”

“
Just Freya, she’s got a broken wrist and lots of cuts and bruises and Joanie McNab might need some treatment, she’s got terminal cancer and there’s only the local GP on hand.”

“
Okay. Find Adam Michie. Now,” she ordered before slamming down the phone.

Craig studied their surroundings; the enormous ruined castle, the church and graveyard, the vast woods, hundreds of hiding places for a suspect and only two of them doing the searching. He considered drafting in some of the villagers to help then thought his life wouldn
’t be worth living if Adam hurt one of them. They were safer staying together in the pub.

“
Let’s start with the places that meant the most to Logan,” Craig told Steve. “The church first, we’ll take my car.”

Driving up the slope was much easier now Craig could actually see where he was going. His tiredness had lifted. He had a suspect and the storm was abating, there was finally light at the end of the tunnel.

The church door had been left open after they’d broken in and it swung back and forth in the breeze, banging out a solemn rhythm. Extending their batons, Craig and Steve cautiously entered. After their eyes had adjusted to the gloom of the nave they spied damp footprints walking up the aisle, heading into the sacristy. Craig pointed his baton at the footprints and Steve nodded.

Neither of them hardly dare breathe as they passed the altar, approaching the half-open door of the sacristy. Craig
’s eyes darted to the left as a shadow rippled through the gloom around the area of the pulpit. He threw his torch in that direction, casting a puddle of watery light but there was nothing there, except maybe ghosts.

“
Sarge,” whispered Steve, pointing to something on the stone floor.

Craig knelt down to study the dark blobs staining the flags.
“Blood.”

Steve nodded, swallowing hard.

Craig pushed open the door with the tip of his baton, heart pounding as the torchlight danced across the objects in the room, expecting some crazed figure in black to rush them, but all was still. There was more blood on the floor, a pool of it trickling out from under the desk. Craig rushed round the desk to find Adam crumpled on the floor, bleeding from a cut to the side of his head and what appeared to be a stab wound to the stomach. Beside his head lay the heavy gold cross that had been taken from the Sacristy and that Craig had seen hanging over the fireplace Claire died in. It was covered in Adam’s blood and it appeared he’d been beaten with it, which he found offensive.

“
Adam,” said Craig, kneeling beside him and snapping on a pair of latex gloves. “Adam, can you hear me?” Before examining his injuries he checked him for weapons, hoping to find something incriminating, but he wasn’t carrying anything.

Adam released a loud groan and his eyes slowly slid open, his face sickly pale in the torchlight.

“Who did this to you?” said Craig.

“
Can’t,” he mumbled.

“
Did you kill Catriona, Claire and Brenda?”

“
No. It was him.”

“
Who?”

“
Father Logan.”

“
Father Logan’s dead. Who was it?”

“
Can’t,” he repeated before his eyes closed again.

“
Adam, stay with me,” called Craig, checking his pulse. “Shit, he needs an ambulance. Keep your hand pressed to the stomach wound,” he told Steve as he pulled out his phone. “Ma’am, we’ve found Adam Michie, he’s been stabbed and he’s lost a lot of blood, we need an ambulance now.”

“
Who do you think I am, Moses? I can’t part the waves. The water’s clearing but it’s not safe enough to cross and I’m not risking paramedics’ lives for some bastard serial killer.”

“
I don’t think he is the killer Ma’am. Someone attacked him in the church. I think he knows who did it but he’s not saying.”

“
Just do what you can to keep him alive Sergeant until we can get through. And find the killer,” she yelled down the phone before hanging up.

“
Bloody bitch,” he hissed, shoving the phone back into his pocket. Gently he tapped Adam’s face to try and bring him round. “Adam, who’s the killer?”

“
Logan,” he groaned again.

“
No he’s not. Someone’s pretending to be him. Who is it?”

He just shook his head, face tight with pain.

“Bollocks, I thought we had him,” said Craig.

“
So who is it then?” said Steve.

Craig thought back to what Freya had said about the killer wanting to watch her die. A thought occurred to him that astonished him so much he physically jumped.

“Martin.”

“
The doctor?”

“
He was at the scene of Catriona and Claire’s deaths. He hadn’t just arrived, he’d been there all along, watching them die. He’s the village doctor, the only person who would know if the women had abortions and Freya registered with his practice. He’s the link between the women. Craig you stupid bastard,” he told himself, furious because he’d been blinded by years of friendship. But could his old friend, who’d always seemed so gentle, kill three women? If so, what was his motive?

“
But he had an alibi for when Freya was kidnapped.”

“
Joanie’s on a lot of meds, she might not have known he’d gone. All he needed was a small window to take Freya and dump her in the oubliette.” He thought of a young impressionable Martin in his role of altar boy growing up listening to Logan’s sermons about how evil women were and grimaced. “We need to find Martin now. Can he be moved?“ he said, gesturing to Adam. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“
The stab wound doesn’t look too deep and he’ll freeze to death if he’s on this cold floor for much longer.”

Adam was able to get to his feet and they staggered out of the church, Adam
’s arms slung around their shoulders. He cried out in pain, clutching at his stomach as they lay him down on the back seat of Craig’s car. Craig wrapped him in blankets he took from the boot and Steve sat with him in the back, a gloved hand still pressed to his stomach wound as they drove down into the village, Craig constantly scanning the area for Martin. Could he really be the killer or was he just getting desperate?

“I just thought I’d check on the patient before the ambulance comes through,” smiled Martin when Gary opened the door of Nora’s cottage.

He frowned at the doctor suspiciously before standing back to let him in.
“She’s upstairs.”

“
Thank you,” replied Martin, stepping inside. He gripped the handle of his black bag tightly as he mounted the stairs, dabbing at his lips with his handkerchief when the drool threatened to seep through. It always did at the thought of violence. He swallowed the liquid down, taking deep breaths to slow the rapid beat of his heart. He was well aware of the tall Ned-like officer following him. He would be tough to put down, but not impossible. Unlike his colleagues he didn’t seem blessed with too many brain cells. “Hello Freya, how are you feeling?” he smiled when he walked into the spare bedroom, Gary following him in and closing the door.

“
Much better thanks,” Freya smiled back at him. “Just really weak. Everything’s an effort.”

“
I’m not surprised after what you’ve been through,” he said, placing his bag on the bed beside her. He looked to Gary. “Would you care to wait outside while I examine her?”

“
Sorry, no can do. The Sarge said I’ve not to let her out of my sight.”

“
Sensible I suppose,” he said, rummaging about in his bag. “Freya, do you object if the constable stays?”

“
You don’t want me to take my clothes off, do you?”

“
No,” he laughed.

“
Then it’s okay.”

Gary turned his back and started flicking through the newspaper to give her a little privacy while Martin began the examination .

“So tell me Freya,” said Martin as he probed the cuts and bruises on her right arm, “how are you holding up?”

“
Not too bad,” she replied bravely.

He gave her a sympathetic look.
“If I’d gone through what you went through I’d be a gibbering wreck. You should be proud of yourself.”

“
I don’t know about that.”

“
It’s true,” he continued cheerfully. “I mean you were absolutely terrified, weren’t you?”

“
Well, yes I was.”

“
When you were down in that hole looking up, the fear in your eyes was very obvious.”