A Taste of Ashes (DI Bob Valentine Book 2) (17 page)

Jade stood in the darkness beyond the hospital car park, just far enough into the copse of trees to be able to see lights burning in the building. The rain had stopped but some drops clinging to the leaves above her managed to dislodge themselves and fall on her. She looked up, towards the pale moon, and the cold night’s wind touched her face.

She tried not to think about Niall, about the way she had left the flat, but his voice seemed to be following her. He would be OK, he would get over her running off like that, and anyway, it wasn’t his battle to fight. She’d decided that the moment Niall went for Darry with the bat. Her brother had so effortlessly disarmed him, pushed him to the ground, that it was obvious to her Niall was out of his depth. He was a nice boy, a good friend to have and she had needed him once but not now.

Jade didn’t need to use Niall as cover anymore, she had passed the point where it mattered if her mother or brother found out the truth.

‘Jade … Jade, where are you?’ It was Darry.

‘Over here.’ She rushed to the fence at the edge of the car park, the grass was long and wet and slowed her movement.

‘God, you’re soaking wet, girl.’

‘It’s been raining.’ She pushed back her wet fringe. ‘Did you see Mum?’

‘Of course I did.’ Darry leant a hand over the fence and helped his sister to climb up. She stumbled at the top wire and he lifted her down. He looked into the field behind her. ‘Where’s Niall?’

‘He’s not coming.’

‘What?’

‘It’s nothing to do with him, Darry.’

‘But he was supposed to be helping you.’

She raised her eyebrows to the sky. ‘He’s just a boy, he can barely look after himself.’

‘Jade, is everything OK? You don’t look well.’ He placed a hand on her arm; Jade knocked it away.

‘I’m fine. Just wet that’s all.’

‘Have you been sick again?’

‘No, I’m fine I just told you.’ She started to step away from her brother, ‘Are you coming or are we staying out in the cold and wet all night?’

Darry ran after her. ‘Wait. We can’t go in there.’

‘I thought you said I could go and see her, once you came back.’

‘Not now. There’s police in there now.’

‘Police? … Why are the police in there?’

Darry tried to steer his sister away from the conspicuously lit hospital. ‘Come on, we’ll get a taxi out of here.’

‘No. I want to see Mum.’ She yanked her arm away and started back towards the hospital.

‘Jade, that’s not going to be possible. That copper was fuming, in a minute or two the place is going to be crawling with police. Now come on, we need to get going or we’ll be locked up.’

‘We haven’t done anything.’ She struggled with her brother, a woman in a blue Corsa rolled down her window and stared over.

‘Jade, you’re making a scene. Calm down.’

‘I want to see Mum, you’re hurting my arm.’

‘Jade, I mean it. We need to get out of here.’

Her voice rose, ‘Why? What have
we
done? Why are the police with Mum?’

‘Jade, I’m supposed to be in barracks. They’ll break my bloody legs for this.’

Darry’s mention of the army stopped his sister’s struggling. He’d risked a lot for her and he saw that she understood that. ‘They think she did it, don’t they? The police think Mum killed him.’

Norrie Leask leaned onto the dashboard and pointed to the turn-off, ‘Here, Joe, take this one.’

‘You sure now?’

‘They all look the bloody same to me, especially in the dark.’

‘Cumnock countryside’s a black hole in the daylight as well.’

‘Those miners must have wanted to stay underground, bloody shite-hole.’ The car shuddered on the uneven track, slowed by a shallow trench and scattered gravel. ‘Aye, this is the spot. That’s the milestone for the old road pithead, there.’

‘You sure no one ever comes out this way?’

Leask put another hand on the dash, steadied himself as the track got bumpier. ‘Are you kidding me? Why would anyone come out here? It’s an abandoned pit. Fraught with danger these places, we could be taking our lives in our hands just driving up here.’

Joe fired him a glower. ‘Now you tell me.’

‘Look, it’s like this, if you want to keep him in the boot, stinking out your car and marking a big pointy finger to plod then be my guest. Me, I’d sooner not do time for this wee arsewipe.’

The car halted abruptly. Joe yanked on the handbrake and flicked his cigarette through the open window. ‘Right, that’s it. We can see the pithead from here. We’ll carry him.’

‘We? Who pays your bloody wages?’

Joe released the lock and pushed open the door. ‘I don’t remember that bit in my contract about disposing of dead bodies in the night, remind me about that, time-and-a-half is it?’

‘Aye, that’ll be right.’ Leask exited on his side of the car. ‘I want a pint out of you for this, mind.’

The pair walked around to the rear of the vehicle, their shoes sunk into the wet earth. Neither carried a flashlight, the only illumination came from the car’s headlights. As he opened the boot Joe stared into the deep space, located the white-skinned features of Niall. The body was an inconvenience, it might once have been alive – a human being – but the connection had been lost. ‘Just looks like he’s sleeping, there.’

‘He does as well.’ Leask, turned his head to the side, squinted. ‘Doesn’t look too bothered about it all.’

‘He was bothered when I had the pliers on his fingernails.’

‘That’s what I mean, the boot of a car’s an improvement on his last few hours. Christ, are we going sentimental here? Let’s get the wee shite in the ground. He’s served his purpose.’

The two men reached in, grabbed arms and legs and lifted Niall’s body from the car, in one clean heave.

‘There’s nothing to him,’ said Joe.

‘Well his mammy’s meat pies will not save him now.’ He nodded towards the pit-face. ‘This way.’

They walked a few yards, the wet ground sinking beneath them. Joe’s foot became trapped in a mud-hole, his knee headed skyward as he yanked his foot out. ‘I’m just waiting for this ground to open up and swallow us. Can we not just dump him?’

‘No. He’s going down the shaft. Are you stupid?’

‘But if nobody ever comes here, who’s going to see him?’ Joe lost his footing again on the uneven surface. ‘Look, that’s nearly another shoe away. They’re Timberland you know, hundred pounds a pair.’

A little rain started to smatter their faces. ‘Oh, that’s all we need. I’m away back to the car.’ Leask dropped his end of the load.

‘Hey … no way.’

‘Get that dumped in the pit and hurry up about it. I’m not wading through this in the rain, I pay you more than enough to manage on your own. Now, move it.’

Big Joe watched as Leask shuffled back towards the glow of the car’s headlights, pushing up his collar and cursing. He lifted Niall’s limp frame onto his shoulder and turned for the pit-face.

The sight of Chief Superintendent Marion Martin in the incident room was a bad enough shock to Valentine but at such an early hour he didn’t need to be a detective to know something was seriously wrong. She seemed to be going over the case files, at least, that’s how it looked to him as he walked, slowly and silently, towards the desk where she was sitting. She never looked up once but seemed to sense his arrival at her side, greeting him with a brusque order to grab a seat.

‘I’m not stopping,’ said Valentine.

The chief super looked up. ‘You sound fairly confident of that, Bob. If I were standing in your boots, I’m not sure I’d be so cocksure.’

He peered beyond her towards the desk, she was indeed going over the case files – his own annotated file from inside his desk. Had she searched his office?

‘If you’re unhappy with the way the case is being conducted then perhaps you might want to let me get on with it so that I can contribute to your clean-up rate.’

She slammed the folder shut, tapped red fingernails on the top and eyed the detective through heavy lids. ‘You’re not the only DI in King Street.’ She rose. ‘I could replace you, like that …’ Her fingers snapped in Valentine’s face.

‘Is this a conversation I should be having with the union rep present, chief?’

‘You could bring along the Prime Minister, Bob, it won’t make a blind bit of difference to what I have to say.’ The castors on her chair squealed as she stepped back from the desk, the chair skidded into the centre of the floor. ‘I’ll see you in my office in ten minutes. Bring any and every scrap of progress you’ve made because I’ll need to be convinced you are the most capable officer to handle this case.’

He knew she was testing him, asserting her rank. He knew, also, that he was about to pay for having challenged her authority too many times lately. The meeting with Major Rutherford, likely, being the offence which caused the most damage. The absurdity of the situation was annoying enough, but the pettiness bit even deeper.

‘I do have other things to do,’ he said.

‘No, Bob. You have nothing else to do, other than what I tell you.’ She crossed her arms, leaned in, ‘And you can call this a wee heads-up – you might want to explain away why I have a complaint on my desk from Ayr Hospital to add to the one from the hospital in Kilmarnock. And while you’re at it, just when were you going to tell me about this?’ She reached into the file and retrieved the post-mortem report on James Tulloch. ‘I found an extra page in your file that wasn’t in mine and it says Tulloch’s spinal column was cut, how did they put it?
The wound track, back to front was administered on a horizontal thrust
 … That’s pretty cleanly and coldly, like he was sitting on the bloody butcher’s block.’

‘I had every intention of …’

She raised a hand. ‘Save it, Bob. My office in ten minutes.’

DS McCormack was the first of the team to arrive after Valentine, almost bumping into the chief super as they met at the doorway. The DS made for the glassed-off office at the back of the incident room where Valentine had stationed himself. He spotted her on the way in, waved her away, but she took no notice.

‘Who stole your toffee?’ were the first words out of her mouth.

‘Is that Glasgow? This isn’t the
Francie and Josie
Show, you know.’

‘Sometimes I think the only folk in this country who like Glasgow are the Glaswegians.’

‘You could substitute country for planet and not be far wrong.’

McCormack closed the door behind her. ‘Well somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed.’

‘I’m sorry. Had a rough night. Then Dino was in here early doors and it wasn’t to sing me “That’s Amore”.’

‘Erm, I’ll start with the rough night, I think …’

Valentine pushed out his hands, inflated his chest and began a slow exhalation. He started to talk about the picture that Hugh Crosbie had drawn and then he found himself relaying his father’s explanation of how he knew Bert McCrindle and how strange it all seemed to him, but by the time he got to the bit about his dream, and the visit from Bert, strange didn’t seem like a strong enough description. The DI’s head was heavy, bulging with new thoughts, questions, what-ifs.

‘Did you tell Clare?’ said McCormack.

‘How could I not? She was right next to me, got the brunt of my ranting and raving again … anyway, I don’t want to talk about Clare just now.’

‘OK. Do you want to talk about the chief super?’

‘God no. That’s not a choice I have though, the way she feels about me you might be the lead detective on this case soon.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ll be lucky to get a job cleaning up after the mounted police outside Ibrox if she chooses to let rip.’

‘I take it she found out about the post-mortem report on Tulloch.’

‘Bingo.’ Valentine leaned back in his chair, turned his arms behind his neck. ‘There’s more too, but I won’t bother you with it right now. Tell me about Phil and Ally’s trip to the far east.’

‘Oh, interesting, to say the least. They spoke to the top brass there, but got zilch. Pleasantries, the good biccies brought out but nothing to write home about.’

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting a smoking gun, Sylvia. Tell me they dug a little deeper.’

‘Yes, of course, there’s more.’ She approached the desk, a note of optimism rising in her voice. ‘They spoke to some squaddies, they knew Tulloch and didn’t sound too fussed to hear he’d died. They were a bit more concerned about Darren Millar’s disappearance, that’s really put the cat amongst the pigeons at the barracks.’

‘Darren was much more popular, then?’

‘For sure. But get this, there’s more. His best friend in the regiment was a bloke called Finnie, who came from, guess where? Ayr.’

‘Why do I know that name?’ said Valentine.

‘Probably because you’ve seen it on Flash Harris’s case files – Finnie worked at the Meat Hangers with Tulloch and they were both in the Royal Highland Fusiliers together.’

‘Jesus, tell me you’ve pulled this Finnie in.’

McCormack shook her head. ‘No, sir. He’s top of Harris’s list at the moment too. Apparently Finnie’s not been seen since the night of the robbery.’

‘And the night of the murder too, don’t forget that, Sylvia.’ Valentine picked up a pencil and started to roll it between his fingers. ‘Has Harris pulled in Norrie Leask yet?’

‘No. That’s the not-so-good news: Leask’s missing.’

‘What do you mean missing?’

‘Nowhere to be found, sir. Not at his address or known haunts, and no one has seen hide nor hair of him.’

‘Well that’s bloody convenient.’ Valentine thrust the pencil down on the desk. ‘Just what the hell is going on here? I’ve got a murdered ex-squaddie, a missing ex-squaddie – make that two of them missing including this Finnie character – and now Ayr’s answer to Arthur Daley and Terry McCann rolled into one has done a bunk.’

McCormack squinted. ‘I think it’s still progress.’

Valentine wasn’t so sure, he checked his watch, his ten minutes were up and he had to go and see the chief super. ‘Where’s Phil and Ally got to? They should be here by now.’

‘They’re still on the east coast, sir.’