Head Shot (4 page)

She nodded and settled into one of the cane-framed conservatory chairs. 'It happened just after one o'clock. I was clearing up after lunch with the kids when the phone rang . . . It's Trish the nanny's day off,' she added, irrelevantly.

'It was the New York State Police. A gruff-sounding guy asked me if I was Sarah Grace, the daughter of Leopold and Susannah Grace, of Buffalo, New York. The sound of his voice was enough to scare me right there. I said I was and he went right into it.' Her accent seemed to roughen. 'No messing about. "I'm sorry to have to tell you, ma'am, that I'm at the scene of a double homicide, at your folks' lakeside cabin. It appears they've been murdered."

'I didn't say anything for a long time; I remember holding on to the kitchen table, and hearing the guy ask if I was al right. Eventual y I said that I was far from al right. I asked him to repeat what he'd just said, and he did. I asked if he was sure of the identification, and he said

"Yes, ma'am." He suggested that I should maybe cal a doctor. I shouted into the phone, "I am a doctor", and hung up. That was when I folded up. I was just scared witless, Andy. I tried to phone Bob, but I got al confused by the international dialling code. So I cal ed you on your mobile.

'Once I knew you were on your way, that helped. That and James Andrew; he just begged me to stop crying, so I did.'

'What did you tell him?'

'I said I'd had a nasty phone cal from a bad man.' She shuddered. 'He frowned at me, with the same expression Bob has when he's angry, and said, "He'l be in trouble when Dad gets home." The look on his little face was almost as scary as the phone call.'

She glanced up at them. 'Could you cal them back for me? Could you find out exactly what's happened?'

Mcl henney shook his head. 'We don't have to cal them, Sarah.

They've already been in touch with us. I guess the guy who cal ed you was a detective. He also reported in to his headquarters and they passed the news to the local police force in Buffalo.'

Sarah nodded. 'That would be the Erie County sheriff's department,'

she murmured.

'It was reported to the sheriff himself,' the inspector continued. 'He knew your father well and he knew all about you. So he called the office, looking for the Boss; he wound up speaking to me.'

He paused, as Louise returned with the coffee pot and cups, on a green plastic tray. She caught the moment and laid it on the glass table without a word. 'I'm sorry,' her husband continued. 'But there really is no doubt about the identification. They were found in their cabin, just before seven a.m., local time. They had been strangled, both of them.

Going by the information that Sheriff Dekker had from the men at the scene, it looks like a robbery. The cabin was ransacked, money, credit cards, watches, jewellery all taken. The investigation's still in its early stages, of course. A technical team from Albany were on their way there when Dekker cal ed.'

Strangled, you said.' Her voice was a whisper.

Yes. Expertly, according to the sheriff. He spoke on the phone to the ME while she was still at the scene; she told him that there were no signs of a violent struggle, which indicates that they were both taken by surprise. Your father was kil ed on the veranda of the cabin, your mother in the kitchen. The doctor said that a ligature was used .. .'

What type?'

Meil hesitated; he wanted to avoid the detail, but one look at Sarah's face told him that he could not. 'Wire. They were both garrotted, from behind. It must have been over in seconds; your father didn't even make it out of his chair. They don't know how many perpetrators there were, but the police at the scene said that from the disposition of the bodies and the strength required, they're looking, at least, for a tal man.'

Her mouth, normal y soft and sensual, seemed no more than an opening carved into her face. 'For a few dol ars and a few baubles . . .'

she hissed. 'Let's hope they try to fence them. I have a date with these people, whoever they are; I plan to be there when they strap them on to the execution table. However long it takes, however many years the appeal process drags on, when they inject the bastards, I'l be there. If there's a place worse than hell, I'll send them there.' Her voice cracked and she leaned forward in her chair, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Andy Martin dropped to a crouch in front of her, and put his arms around her. 'Okay, love, okay,' he said, softly. 'Let it out, there's a girl.'

He waited, until her sobbing began to subside. 'Listen, why don't you take some time on your own. Take a sedative and lie down for a bit. Neil and I wil phone Bob; he needs to be told.'

24

She nodded, and rose from her seat; Louise slipped an arm around her waist and walked her out of the room.

'You got that hotel number?' asked Martin, taking out his cellphone.

Mcl henney nodded, took a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his jacket and handed it over. He watched as the Chief Superintendent keyed it in, then waited.

'Hel o,' he said at last. 'I want to speak with one of your guests, Mr Skinner. Yes, I'l hold.'

The voice that sounded in Martin's ear a few seconds later was wide awake, if more than a touch irritable. 'Yes?' it barked.

'Bob? It's Andy'

'What's up?' The testiness vanished, replaced by concern.

'Some very bad news, I'm afraid.' Speaking carefully, almost formally, he told his friend what had happened to his parents-in-law, setting out the detail of Mcllhenney's conversation with Sheriff Dekker. When he was finished, there was silence. For one of the few times in his life, Bob Skinner was lost for words.

'How's Sarah?' he asked eventual y, sounding strained and older, Martin thought, than he had ever heard him. 'How's she taking it?'

'As you'd expect; she's devastated. I'm at Gul ane now, with Neil.

Lou's here, looking after her.'

'And the kids?'

'They're okay. Mark's at school, Jazz is being man of the house and the baby's asleep.'

He heard Skinner take a deep breath; when he spoke again it was as if he was at a crime scene himself. 'Right,' he said. 'This is what's going to happen. I'm on the first flight out of here to New York, whether there's a seat on it or not. Tell this man Dekker that I want to be met at JFK, either by the State police or his guys, and transported straight to the cabin.

After that I want to be taken to Buffalo, to meet with him and with the officer in charge of the enquiry.

'If it sounds to you like I'm pul ing rank here, Andy, well, that's because I am. Just to reinforce that, I want you to cal my FBI pal Joe Doherty in Washington and brief him. Joe'l smooth the way if it's necessary; I want to be at that scene within twenty-four hours and I do not want anything to be touched that doesn't have to be. I'l call Dekker once my travel arrangements are made.'

'What wil you do about the conference?'

'Fuck the conference! Mary Chambers can read my paper. She's sound and she's not the nervous type; I trust her to do that, no problem.'

'Okay. Do you want to speak to Sarah?'

'Let her rest for a bit. I'll call her in a couple of hours, maybe from the airport, if we can move things along that fast.'

'Right.' Martin paused. 'You know, Bob, I thought Sarah's parents lived in Florida.'

'They did, for a while; at least, they had a condo there, as well as the house in Buffalo. But Susannah didn't like the climate in Florida, so last autumn they sold the place and bought the cabin in the Adirondacks National Park instead. It was going to be a surprise for the kids next time Sarah took them over. Shit; some surprise!'

His anger seemed to flow down the phone. 'I tell you one thing though, Andy; it'l be nothing on the shock this man has coming . . .

however flicking tal he is. Oh boy, does he have grief heading his way!'

7

'You know,' said the newly promoted Detective Superintendent Mario McGuire, 'we should do this more often.' He glanced along the length of Umberto's Restaurant, surprisingly busy for a mid-week evening. 'For a dinky couple, we definitely do not put ourselves about enough.'

His wife shot him a puzzled look. 'Dinky?'

'Come on. Dual Income No Kids.' .

'Ah,' she exclaimed. 'You mean we've moved up in the world from being Yuppies?'

'Nah. We've just got too old. The acronym game keeps moving along, and personal y I'm looking forward to being a Bobo.'

'What the hell's a Bobo?'

'Burnt Out But Opulent. I've always fancied making it to that level.'

She chuckled softly as she sipped her Chablis. 'We're well on the way to the opulent bit now, with two superintendents' pay packets coming into the house, not to mention two superintendents' pensions at the end of the day. We'll be the envy of every copper on the force .. . apart from Big Bob and the Chief, who've both filthy rich anyway.'

'Aye, I suppose we wil be. Mind you, I'd stil chuck it just to be able to ditch the second part of dinky.'

Maggie frowned at him across the table. 'Wel that's not a runner, is it, so don't brood about it.'

'Sure I know, but...'

'Makes you feel less of a man, does it?'

'Something like that,' he muttered.

'Well don't let it, for it's nonsense. That's a fine piece of ordnance you've got there, officer; it's not your fault that it shoots blanks. It's not a sin not to have babies, you know. Looked at from a certain angle it's an advantage; we can plan our future in the knowledge that it's only the two of us on the payrol and always wil be. Plus, we can concentrate on making life miserable for the bad people. Who knows? Maybe that's what we were put here for.'

The arrival of their starters forestalled his answer. He sat in silence as the waiter set a warm goat's cheese salad before Maggie, and served his pasta and bean soup from a tureen.

'... Put here for?' he exclaimed, as the young man headed back to the kitchens. 'This is Planet Earth cal ing Superintendent Rose. This is Houston cal ing Maggie. In case you've forgotten, I became a copper because if I didn't there was a fair chance that I'd have ended up on the other side of the fence, or at the very least in regular skirmishes with the VAT man, like the rest of my family.'

'Come on,' she retorted, 'your family's very respectable, specially your mother. If you weren't a police officer you'd probably be in her business.' The light smile left her face, and her eyes flickered down for a moment. 'The fact is I've always envied you your family.'

He caught something in her expression, and in her tone.' Sure, because they're alive . . . but why do you say it like that? Mags, you've been ifiy for a couple of days. Have you got a problem?'

She opened her mouth to reply, then stopped, staring at the table as if she was considering something very important. Final y she looked up and into his eyes. 'I've had a letter from my sister,' she told him. 'She's had a birthday card from my father.'

'Your father?' he exclaimed, astonished. 'You told me your father was dead.'

'Oh how I wish . . .' The words came out in a long, malevolent hiss. 'I thought he was,' she continued. 'No, I hoped he was, I prayed he was, and eventual y I let myself believe he was. Now it turns out. ..'

'But why?' he asked her. 'What was so bad about him?'

'You don't want to know.'

'I bloody do, and you're going to tell me.'

She glanced around and over her shoulder, checking for anyone who might be within earshot. 'If you insist,' she said, quietly, her eyes narrowing with her frown.

'You know why I really became a copper, Mario?' She hesitated for a second or two then leaned toward him, her voice dropping even lower, until he had to lean himself to catch it. 'I did it to get even with guys like my old man.

'You ask me what was so bad about him? "Bad" doesn't cover it, not by a long way. That bastard abused my sister and me . . . damn it, no, he raped us. And as if that wasn't enough, he beat my mother bloody when she found out about it.

'I'll tell you something I've never told you or anyone else before, Mario. I felt guilty for years after that; not just because of what happened 28

between my old man and me, but because it was me who got her that tanking. When I told her what he was doing to us, do you know what happened? The first thing she did was to beat the daylights out of me!'

She glanced again at the nearest occupied table, but the couple there were too far away to overhear.

'That's right. When I told her she knocked me right off my feet. So I got up and showed her the bruises he always left on me. She hit me even harder, she actual y knocked me out. So I showed her the same marks on my wee sister. When my father came in from the pub, or the bookie's, or wherever he had been, she confronted him, and it was her turn for a thumping. I hate to think what would have happened to Eilidh and me if we'd stayed in that house, but I hauled her out of there and screamed bloody murder at the door of the woman downstairs.

'She took us in, and her husband, a great big man who'd been a boxer or something, went up and stopped my father. Yet no one cal ed the police. It never occurred to them to do that. It just wasn't part of their culture. What went on between husband and wife was their business, until the kids got hurt; then, the community usual y took care of it.

That's what happened in our case.

'My dad left, for good, that very night. We were actual y better off, for my mother had always been the breadwinner; he never had a regular job that I knew of, although he was always out and about. As far as I could see he just leeched off her. After he went, we never spoke about what had happened, not even when Eilidh and I were grown up. It was always there, though, hanging like a curtain between my mother and me, something unspoken that we knew nonetheless.

'It stayed that way, until she was dying. She developed breast cancer; she had a big lump but she kept quiet about it until it was way too late.

The afternoon before she died, I went in to see her. I was a probationer then; she didn't approve of my joining the police, and she didn't hide that from me.

'She couldn't speak above a whisper at that stage, but she beckoned me close to her, and she said to me, "I never could forgive you, Margaret."