Witness the Dead (7 page)

The picture he had taken barely a day before, the image on the girl’s stomach high on the hill above Glasgow Cathedral, filled Winter’s mind. Addison’s words at seeing the first one came back to him too, about how it was ‘psycho stuff’. Winter knew that this didn’t just make it doubly bad: this was much more than the sum of two parts.

He stood up and away from the body, his movement the signal for the remaining cast to stir and sound to erupt. Alex Shirley swore under his breath before barking orders at the Stewart Street squad who had arrived in the cemetery: the crime-scene manager, Brem Dawson, steering his own team more quietly but no less feverishly; uniforms, detectives and forensics going where they were told and doing what they knew best.

Narey stood to the side of the stage, her expression set and her eyes fixed on the girl. Winter tried to catch her eye but she was lost. In a rookie cop or someone more faint-hearted than Rachel, he might have taken it for weakness or sentimentality but he knew her better than that. She was angry.

The Temple summoned Kelbie and his DS, Jim Ferry, plus Addison, Narey, Winter and Brem Dawson to him with energetic sweeps of his arm. They formed an impromptu huddle yards from the White Lady and the girl she’d so poorly guarded.

‘I want an information lockdown on what we’ve got here. Bare minimum goes out to the press. Girl’s body found, suspicious circumstances, family to be informed et cetera. Nothing, and I mean
nothing
, about that word. It does not leave this cemetery. I do not want one single person knowing that doesn’t have to. You all understand? DCI Kelbie, your officers that were here fall into the category of not having to know.’

Kelbie chewed agitatedly on his lip before nodding thoughtfully.

‘It looks to me as if I’m back on this case, then, sir. I’d say that necessity dictates it.’

‘What?’

‘You’re right, sir. We obviously can’t take the chance on this wording getting into the press. We don’t want to give the killer the oxygen of publicity and we don’t want to run the risk of copycats. The best way to ensure that nothing leaks out is to keep us on the inside.’

Shirley’s eyes widened and flashed in anger.

‘Are you saying that I can’t trust you to obey frigging orders and follow protocol if you aren’t on the case?’

‘Not at all, sir. Of course not. But it will be much easier for me to keep a lid on whatever rumours float through New Gorbals if the team there aren’t pissed off at having nothing to do with a case on our turf. Put me and Ferry on your team and everyone wins. I’m sure Superintendent Devlin will okay it.’

‘Rubbish!’ Addison broke in, his jaw jutting towards Kelbie. ‘You just tell your people to keep their mouths shut. Simple as that.’

‘He’s right, Derek,’ Shirley sighed, cutting off Kelbie’s reply. ‘DCI Kelbie and DS Ferry are now part of the investigation team. It’s the only practical decision.’

‘And, as DCI,’ Kelbie sneered in Addison’s direction, ‘I assume I will be senior investigating officer.’

Shirley shook his head wearily. ‘You assume wrong, Kelbie. I’ll be SIO. I’m taking charge of this myself, I’m not risking you two idiots behaving like children. You will keep me fully informed of every development. Understood?’

‘Sir.’ Kelbie managed to puff and preen at the same time.

‘Good. Strategy meeting in Pitt Street at three this afternoon. Now get to work.’

Kelbie allowed himself a final triumphant glance at Addison before taking his DS by the arm and turning away from the group. Addison opened his mouth to speak but Shirley pre-empted him.

‘Save your breath. I’d rather have Kelbie on the inside pissing out than on the outside pissing in. At least this way we can keep him under control. And for chrissake, Derek, remember that he is your superior officer, whether you like it or not.’

‘That will be not, sir.’

‘I don’t give a toss. What we have here is even bigger than your ego. Now go catch the bastard that did this. All of you.’

Brem Dawson was the first to leave, corralling his forensic troops and ordering them to begin the painstaking task of examining the site for evidence and removing the girl’s body to the morgue. A clear path had already been made to allow access to the scene, but now every other inch had to be checked and rechecked.

Winter fell into an uncomfortable threesome on the secured path to the crime scene, Narey and Addison at either side. It was uncomfortable for him at least: Narey refused to catch his eye and Addison was consumed with his fury at Denny Kelbie.

‘It’s my own fault,’ the DI cursed. ‘I could have kept the lettering back until we’d got that nasty wee shite and his plods off the premises.’

‘So why didn’t you?’ Narey demanded.

‘Because I wanted to rub his snotty nose in it, obviously.’

The three of them stood and watched the forensics work, perversely fascinated by the sight of the bunny suits picking their way assiduously over the cemetery’s green and cobbled skin. Winter had his camera at his waist now but his trigger finger kept popping off discreet shots, knowing that a fair few would hit their unsuspecting targets.

‘How do you know so much about this place?’ Narey asked Addison. ‘All that White Lady stuff.’

‘My dad used to bring me here when I was a nipper. He was brought up just a couple of streets away. The place has always given me the creeps. You’ll be loving it, though, wee man. Right up your street.’

Winter ignored the jibe.

‘You ever heard of the Gorbals Vampire?’ Addison continued.

Winter shrugged but his curiosity was obvious.

‘It was long before our time. Nineteen fifty-four. The story went round among the local kids that there was a vampire on the loose and that he’d already kidnapped and eaten two boys. I know it sounds stupid but the whole city was gripped with the idea. The vampire was supposed to be seven feet tall and had iron teeth. You’d maybe think that would be enough to scare kids, but not if they came from the Gorbals.

‘Instead, they put the word out. They weren’t going to wait for the vampire to take another of them: they were going after him. As soon as school was out they were to head for the cemetery wall and wait for it to get dark. And the wee buggers were armed to the teeth. The wall is what? Seven feet high? They all got on top of it and, as soon as they got the shout, they piled in.

‘Half the kids in Hutchensontown were in the cemetery, prowling between the crypts armed with penknives, stakes, stones, whatever they could get their hands on. The local bobbies were eventually called and they reckoned there were four hundred kids in here, aged from four to fourteen. My dad was one of them.

‘He couldn’t get hold of a knife, so he got the biggest stick he could find and whittled the end to a sharp point with a knife he borrowed from his mate, Bertie. He told me he was scared shitless and my old man didn’t scare easily. I suppose it’s different when you’re only six. The cops cleared the lot of them out of the cemetery but they came back the next night and the night after that. My papa gave my dad a whack round the ear and kicked his arse. That was the end of his vampire-hunting days. But the old bugger still brought me in here when I was a kid and told me the story, knowing full well it would scare the crap out of me.’

‘Explains a lot,’ Winter said, and smiled at him. ‘No wonder you’re such a miserable sod.’

‘That’s rich coming from you. See that gatehouse you passed through on the way in here?’

Winter nodded.

‘The guy who designed it is buried just over there. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust and all that. What comes around goes around.’

‘Christ, you’re quite the philosopher.’

‘I know. It’s a gift, wee man. Okay, Rachel, what’s your take on this?’

Narey deliberated.

‘One killer. Psychopath. Hates women. Has moral issues judging by the word he wrote. Or else the girls are linked but that seems less likely on the face of it.’

Addison nodded. ‘Agreed. Anything else?’

‘I don’t think Kirsty McAndrew’s ex-boyfriend fits this. I’d say he was genuinely shocked when we told him what had happened to her. And he’s still in custody. But there are obvious similarities in profile between the victims. Age, gender, build, both good-looking, both dressed for a night out.’ She paused. ‘Both vulnerable.’

Addison looked at her for a moment before replying. ‘Okay, so those are the similarities. What about the differences? The first girl had no shoes, this one does. One strangled with a chain round her neck, this one’s head battered in. The first one had a bag, emptied. This one doesn’t. How many girls do you know that go out without a bag?’

‘None. He’s taken it. Trying to cover his tracks probably.’

‘Looks that way.’ Addison sighed heavily. ‘Okay, let’s get on with this. First we need to find out who she is and see if there’s any connection with the McAndrew girl. Whatever we learn, we keep it to ourselves for now. I’m not sharing any information with that wee shit Kelbie, whatever Shirley has to say. As far as I’m— Oh, for fuck’s sake!’

Narey and Winter followed Addison’s gaze and saw four or five young heads popping up above the cemetery wall, all adorned with baseball caps. They were either standing on something or on the shoulders of their mates. One young tracksuited gymnast was even sitting on the wall, his legs dangling over the edge.

‘Jesus! Rachel, get uniforms to patrol the cemetery perimeter and get those silly sods down. The last thing we need is them looking in here. I’m not having a repeat of the hunt for the Gorbals Vampire.’

‘We’re not going to be able to stop them all from looking.’ Narey raised her eyes and the two men followed her gaze, seeing the pair of blue and cream giants that towered over them. The Caledonia Road flats filled the skyline and offered hundreds of uninterrupted views onto the crime scene.

Addison stuck a two-fingered salute up at the tower blocks. ‘Stare at that.’

Chapter 9

Sunday afternoon

The hurriedly arranged strategy meeting in Pitt Street wasn’t held in the largest available room but rather in one where the smallest number of people were likely to be walking past. It had been done with as little fuss as he could; Alex Shirley was determined to keep as much of a lid as he could on news of the matching words on the stomachs of the two murdered women.

Every murder was a very big deal, even in a city like Glasgow, where it wasn’t exactly unusual. But this was different. It was what it was but it was also what it could become. There was both a brutality and a potential randomness about these killings that had even hardened detectives concerned. Shirley was shitting himself at the prospect of this being only the start of something.

Winter took a seat at the back as usual, all the better to see without being seen. He knew that it was only that he’d been there from the first victim being found on the Necropolis that saved him from being outside the scope of Shirley’s need-to-know policy. Two of his photographs were on the wall facing the rows of chairs that were swiftly being filled by the backsides of the force’s CID. They were his passport to the case and he revelled in the fact that they drew the attention of every cop in the room.

They were both close-ups of the faces of the girls, blown up, full and glossy but losing nothing from the increase in size. They were pixel-perfect in their grotesque beauty. Kirsty McAndrew, her blonde hair wet-dark and licking at her pretty features. Girl number two, as yet unknown but staring helplessly into the abyss, her mouth wide as if dumbfounded by what she saw.

Winter looked at the back of Rachel’s head as she sat in the front row, seeing her sitting so close and yet so far away. Just someone he used to know in a room full of people. There were ten bodies sitting in front of Winter by the time the door opened to allow Alex Shirley to march in and advance directly to the table that faced the rows of cops. The superintendent took his place under Winter’s photographs, flanked on either side by Addison and Kelbie. Among the ranks facing them were Jim Ferry from New Gorbals, DS Andy Teven, DS Rico Giannandrea, a handful of detective constables including Fraser Toshney and Rebecca Maxwell, plus Superintendent Jason Williams representing uniform. They collectively shut up as soon as Shirley got to the top table.

He stood facing them, examining papers in front of him with pursed lips even though he’d already read every word they contained. When he lifted his head again, he was ready.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here. I know some of you have had to change shifts to accommodate this and I’m grateful for that. For those of you who don’t know him, may I introduce DCI Denny Kelbie from New Gorbals. He will be assisting on this enquiry along with DS Jim Ferry.’

Kelbie gave the briefest of nods, his face moulded into a picture of earnestness. Addison stared ahead as if Kelbie’s name had never been mentioned.

‘The young woman with the blonde hair behind me is Kirsty McAndrew. She was twenty-two years old from Elcho Street in Bridgeton. She was a shop assistant and lived with her parents. She was murdered sometime in the early hours of Saturday morning and her body was found in the Necropolis. The young lady with the dark hair is Hannah Healey.’

The name landed heavily. To Winter, she had been decaying flesh and broken bone but now she had a name. Now she was real.

‘She was twenty-three years old, a hairdresser and lived with her mother in a flat in one of the high-rises on Caledonia Road. The flat overlooked the Southern Necropolis, where she was found this morning. Her neighbours later made a positive identification from the crime-scene photographs.’

Shirley paused, seemingly finding something else of interest in his notes but, in truth, giving everyone in the room time to catch their breath along with their thoughts.

‘We have no doubt that the two deaths are linked and that the killer was almost certainly the same person. That is not information we shall be sharing outwith the confines of this room. If asked, you refer them to media services or to the agreed statement, which you will be provided with on leaving this briefing. But be in no doubt that we are dealing with a potential serial killer.’