The Reborn (23 page)

‘Aren’t you going to ask me who I’m working on at the moment?’

‘What are you working on at the moment?’

‘Her name’s Melanie. The professor knows that. Don’t you, Professor?’

Coulter had been on the edge of his seat, desperate to say the doll’s name.

Bill indicated to the orderlies that they were ready to leave, but Magnus could see Coulter wasn’t finished. There was something else he wanted to say. If Bill knew that too, he didn’t show it, and they were at the door before Coulter succumbed.

‘I remember the woman’s name now. The one that ordered Daisy.’

They stood waiting.

Coulter looked triumphant. ‘Reese-Brandon, that was it. Mrs Reese-Brandon ordered Daisy.’

28

‘I think he has a contact on the outside,’ Magnus said.

‘I agree. And I think that contact is aware of information not known by the general public.’

‘Which means it’s someone closely connected to the case.’

They had adjourned to Dr Shan’s office after the interview. Bill had insisted on speaking to her before he left the premises. Someone had shown them there and gone in search of the doctor.

‘You interviewed him two days ago. Did he give any indication then of knowing about Kira’s death?’

Magnus thought back. ‘I didn’t know myself then. We sparred a bit verbally, then he asked if I wanted to see his workroom. He did some work on Jacob. I got the impression he was showing off. Then he mentioned that his next order was called Melanie.’

‘Did he make a point of telling you the doll’s name?’

‘Perhaps, but at the time the fact of his naming the dolls seemed abhorrent to me, so I remember it more because of that. I think he liked making me feel uncomfortable.’

‘I think Coulter knew we were here today because we’d found the doll,’ said Bill.

It was almost impossible to keep developments secret; news travelled even if it wasn’t made public, and the two boys who had found Daisy wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet about it. But Coulter was locked up. Bill had a gut feeling that Coulter had a source directly linked to the case.

‘Possibly,’ replied Magnus. ‘But remember that Coulter’s a skilled liar. He’s just as likely to have made that story up about Kira’s mother ordering the doll, particularly if he’s been following the story on the news.’

The door opened and Dr Shan came in, looking concerned.

‘The orderly said you wanted to talk to me before you left.’

‘Something Coulter said suggested he has a contact on the outside directly linked to the case we’re investigating.’

She considered that for a moment. ‘One of his former partners visits him,’ she said. ‘And as I mentioned to Professor Pirie, Mr Coulter receives a lot of mail, mainly from women. He also makes phone calls, which are allowed of course.’

‘Can you supply me with details of any visits he’s had in the last month, plus letters he’s sent and received, and any calls he’s made?’

She looked perplexed. ‘I can tell you how many letters arrive and are sent, but we don’t read our patients’ private mail. We do operate a PIN system for calls.’

‘So you know when he made them and the numbers he contacted?’

‘In theory.’ She hesitated. ‘As you’re probably aware, Detective Inspector, mobiles make their way in here, despite our best efforts.’

‘Then I’d like Coulter’s room and workshop searched for one.’

Dr Shan was growing more perplexed by the second. ‘Are you sure that’s necessary? Mr Coulter has been an exemplary patient up to now. It seems . . .’

Bill interrupted her praise. ‘Is there a record of who buys his dolls?’

‘Probably.’

‘I want to know who bought a doll called Daisy and when it was delivered. I also need to know who ordered the one he’s currently working on.’

‘But you could have asked Jeff that yourself.’

‘I would rather see the official records.’

Bill didn’t add that he was disinclined to believe anything Jeff Coulter told him.

On the way out, Bill said, ‘You’re happy to go past the Reese-Brandon house on our way back?’

‘If Kira’s mother did order the doll, we need to know,’ answered Magnus.

Forty-five minutes later they were back in the city and drawing up outside the house. The same pale yellow Volkswagen was parked in the small driveway to the right of the garden path. Bill hoped that meant Mrs Reese-Brandon was at home, preferably alone.

He rang the bell and saw her approach through the glass again. She hesitated long enough for Bill to think she might not open the door. When she eventually did, he realised from her expression that she thought he’d brought bad news.

‘Is it the baby?’ Her face was drained of colour.

‘No, we haven’t found it, I’m sorry. I came to speak to you about another matter.’

She led them into the same room as before, where Bill introduced Magnus and explained about his involvement in the case.

She listened, but Bill wasn’t sure she was taking much in. She just wanted to know why they were there.

‘We’ve found your daughter’s mobile phone.’

‘You have? Where?’

‘In the park, a few hundred metres from the funfair.’

She looked as though she might cry.

‘Ronald bought her that for her birthday. Kira loved that phone. He was very good to her, you know?’ She said this as though they might think otherwise.

‘Mrs Reese-Brandon, was Kira adopted?’

She looked stunned by the question. ‘How do you know that?’

‘David told us Kira overheard you and your husband discussing it.

‘Kira
knew
?’she cried.

‘For most of her pregnancy, I believe.’

Light dawned in her eyes. ‘That’s why she refused to give up the baby. Why she fought Ronald so hard. Before that happened, they were close.’ She gestured to the sideboard where an array of framed photographs depicted Kira at various ages, mostly with her father. ‘He used to call her his princess. After she told us she was pregnant, everything changed. It was terrible.’ She put her hands to her face. ‘I should have told her. I wanted to, but Ronald said it wasn’t necessary because I was the only mother she’d ever known.’

Bill gave her a few moments to regain her composure.

‘There’s something else.’

She looked at him, stricken.

‘Did you ever commission a life-like baby doll? They’re known as Reborns.’

She looked at him in amazement. ‘How could you possibly know that?’

‘You did?’

‘Yes.’

‘From a man named Coulter?’

‘Yes, but . . .’

‘Where is this doll now?’

‘I ordered it for Kira. I thought it would help if she had to give her own baby up for adoption. I sent the dollmaker a baby photograph of Kira. We didn’t get her until she was two, but there was a picture of her when she was newly born. The adoption agency gave it to me.’

‘Where is the doll?’ he repeated.

She grew distressed. ‘I tried to give it to Kira. She hated it. She demanded I get rid of it.’

‘And did you?’

She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t. It looked so like her.’

‘Where is it?’

‘At the back of my wardrobe, in a box.’

‘Can you fetch it for me?’

She rose and left the room. She was back minutes later, as they knew she would be.

‘It’s gone.’ She looked wildly at Bill. ‘I don’t understand.’

He brought out the photograph.

‘Is this the doll you ordered?’

She took the photograph and stared at it in amazement. ‘Yes. But where did you find it?’

‘With Kira’s phone, in the park.’

Her legs seemed to give way beneath her. Magnus, moving swiftly, caught her before she hit the ground.

29

David tried Melanie’s number again, but it rang three times, then went to voicemail. He slipped the phone out of sight as a teacher came round the corner and busied himself at his locker, pulling out a book he didn’t need and stuffing it in his bag. The corridor was busy with students as classes changed rooms for the next period. He was due at Maths, but had no intention of going. He really needed to talk to Melanie. He’d told her not to get in contact, but that was before he discovered the police knew about the Daisy Chain. The feeling of dread that had come over him when he’d discovered those words had been written on Kira’s hands threatened to overwhelm him again.

He thought about the possibility that Kira had written the words herself. She had been good at mirror writing and was almost ambidextrous – she could write maths calculations with either hand. But could she have written on both her own hands in mirror writing? And why would she? He wondered again why she had gone into the mirror maze. Had her story of going for candyfloss been the truth? Or had she been planning to meet someone and not told him?

Kira had never told him who the father of her baby was and he hadn’t asked. She didn’t like being questioned. He knew in his heart that if he hassled her, she wouldn’t spend time with him any more. So he’d stayed quiet about everything, listened to her tales of the Daisy Chain gang, done what she asked so he could just be near her. He’d even agreed to take part in one of their sessions, wearing that weird mask. He’d been drunk and high and it had felt great. A kind of release. He’d suddenly realised he didn’t have to worry about his sexuality any more. He could accept that he liked to go either way. He wasn’t a freak. He could have the best of both worlds. Kira had told him that the Greek god Dionysos would release him, and she’d been right.

David joined a group walking along the corridor before taking a detour into a nearby toilet. He would wait until everyone got to class and the corridor went quiet, then leave. If a member of staff challenged him, he would make an excuse about going to the dentist, or say he wasn’t feeling well. He would go and see Melanie, tell her the police knew about the Daisy Chain, suggest they come clean and tell the Detective Inspector everything that had happened. But before that, he would have to explain to her about the mask.

He left the building unchallenged and headed for the bus stop. While he waited for the bus, he went over the events of that night for the umpteenth time. When Kira had left them at the dodgems, she’d seemed perfectly normal. He’d gone on two rides, both lasting around five minutes, then looked for her for at least half an hour before he got to the mirror maze. Both Sandie and Owen said they’d headed home after the Waltzers. David remembered seeing Sandie messing with her mobile, probably putting in the Waltzer guy’s number.

If Kira
had
set out to meet someone, that person had to be the one she saw last and possibly the one who killed her. David forced himself to stop thinking about it, reminding himself that it was the police who solved these things, not him. He was in enough trouble already.

He reached Melanie’s house twenty minutes later. There were no cars in the drive, suggesting neither parent was at home. Relieved, he went straight to the front door. Melanie had told him that the cleaner would let anyone in who came to see her. Her parents were another matter.

He rang the doorbell and waited for the sound of footsteps. When there were none, he peered through the glass panel, trying to get a view of something more than the hall, then pulled out his phone and rang Melanie’s mobile. When there was no response, he tried the door and it swung open.

David stood in the silent hall. There had to be someone here, otherwise the door wouldn’t have been left unlocked. He decided to take a chance and call Melanie’s name, his voice echoing in the hallway.

‘Mel! Are you here?’

He’d only been in the house once before. Melanie’s parents had been away and the Daisy Chain had decided to have one of their sessions here.

He stood outside the bedroom door for a moment, listening, then knocked and called her name again. When there was no response, he opened the door and glanced inside. At first he thought the room was empty, then he realised Melanie was asleep on the bed.

He entered quietly, not wanting to wake her and give her a fright. She was lying on her back with one arm outstretched. He was surprised how thin her arm was, then remembered the sharpness of her hip bones beneath him. That’s how he’d realised it was Mel he’d been with at Kira’s party, before the mix of alcohol and dope had taken over. Once that had happened, he’d no longer been David Murdoch, mediocre maths student and sad bastard who didn’t know which way to swing. Wearing the mask, he’d felt like Dionysos himself.

The blind was pulled down, leaving the room in a half-light. He whispered her name, then had the sudden thought that she might wake up and scream, so he put his hand gently over her mouth, just in case. It only took a second to register that something was wrong.

‘Mel?’

He grabbed her arm and shook it. When there was no response, he felt for a pulse at her neck and couldn’t find one. Horrified, he sprang to his feet, his mind racing. Melanie was dead, but she was still pregnant. There was none of the gore that he’d seen with Kira. Should he call an ambulance? The police? He dismissed the idea almost immediately. Young women like Melanie didn’t just die, even if they were pregnant. The police were already suspicious of him. He couldn’t report another dead body. He felt his stomach heave into his throat and made a run for the bathroom. There was no way he could reach the toilet, so he turned and vomited in the bath instead.

When he’d emptied his stomach, he dragged himself up and turned the cold tap on full. Grabbing a back scrubber, he used the wooden handle to clear the plug-hole until the water ran away freely. Then he went to the sink, splashed his face and dried his hands and face on a towel.

He tried to compose himself.

He would leave immediately. Chances were no one had seen him come in. He glanced around, suddenly worried that he had left some trace of himself in the room. Scenes from
CSI
came flooding back to haunt him. Forensic torches flashing round darkened rooms. Gloved hands. Tiny quantities of blood and skin displayed under microscopes.