A Limited Justice (#1 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (24 page)

Finally, in his high tenor voice, he croaked, “Joseph McCandless of 12a River Road, Belfast BT2.”

“Mr McCandless has kindly agreed to have an informal chat with me, no charges have yet been brought and he has waived his right to counsel or companion. Could you please confirm this for the tape, Mr McCandless, and confirm that you’re content to have this meeting recorded.”

“Yes ...” Then, even more quietly as tears started to flow freely down his cheeks.

“I’ll tell you everything. I really can’t hide it anymore.”

And Annette was as certain as breathing, that what he was about to reveal wouldn’t be a confession of murder, but something that he imagined was even worse. It would be the real source of everything; his false alibi, the guilt that she’d heard in his voice and the guilt that he was even more ashamed of admitting now. That he was almost glad his father was dead, so that he would never know the truth about his son.

*** 

“Where’s Annette?” Craig had emerged from his office and perched on Davy’s desk, ready to start the briefing.

“Down with Joey McCandless – she said she’d be back for three. Here, there’s some interesting stuff on that bolt-gun, boss.”

“Hold that until Annette gets here, Liam. We’ll stay out here. Grab a coffee and let’s start.”

Just then, Annette hurried in, dropping the file she was carrying on her desk. She quickly lifted a cup of tea and a biscuit before sitting down heavily beside Craig.

“You look as if that wasn’t fun?”

“No it wasn’t. The reason Joey’s been so cagey is because he thinks he’s gay, that’s why he hadn’t told anyone at the home about his “girlfriend”. He was off at some counselling session when his dad was killed. Personally, I don’t see what his problem is. If he’s gay, he’s gay. It’s 2012 for goodness sake. But actually, I don’t think he’s gay at all. I saw him checking out the secretary on the second floor and he wasn’t admiring her fashion sense, not unless she keeps it in her breasts.”

They burst out laughing and Annette realised what she’d just said, suddenly embarrassed.

“I can’t believe I said that, working here is turning me into a bloke. But you know what I mean? I think he thinks he might be gay because he’s arty. Anyway, he definitely felt that he couldn’t talk to his dad about it.” She looked at Craig and Liam thoughtfully.

“Maybe one of you two could have a word with him?”

Liam leaned forward eagerly.

“No. Better not, Liam. You’d just give him a copy of Loaded and a pack of condoms.”

She turned towards Craig. “Sir?”

Craig swallowed so hard that he nearly choked, sex counselling a teenager was definitely beyond him. “I’ll ask John to have a chat.”

Then he blushed and changed the subject quickly. “Right, Liam, what did you have on the bolt-gun?”

Davy had just joined them and he leaned forward curiously. “W...What did you find out?”

“Just a wee thing. The bolt isn’t actually meant to kill cattle.”

Craig looked round quickly for Nicky, relieved that she wasn’t there.

“OK, quickly, before Nicky hears about the cattle again.”

“Well, it’s not supposed to kill them, just stun. Then they’re secured in harnesses or pens for their throats to be cut.”

“Oh God, Liam, that’s way too much information.”

“No, but don’t you see, it’s better. That means that maybe she thought she was throwing Maria Burton in alive, to drown...”

“Which is worse if anything.”

“No, but it means that she really didn’t know her own strength. Instead of placing it lightly against the skull to stun her, she pressed so hard that she fractured her skull and killed her. McCandless’ skull was fractured as well, but maybe he didn’t die immediately because it was thicker?”

Annette looked at him incredulously. “Liam, exactly how is this better?”

“Yes, Liam, that means she
meant
to drown them, so Maria Burton was just lucky that she died before she drowned. It’s still evil, in fact more so.”

“Liam, do you mean that this demonstrates the killer didn’t know her own s...strength?”

Liam looked confused for a second and then realised that he had a lifeline. “Oh... aye, Davy, aye. That’s exactly what I meant.”

Annette looked at him sceptically and snorted, but Craig was interested now, and he’d also decided to save Liam’s face.

“Whatever way you cut it, she’s just plain bad. But this idea of untempered strength is something that John was going to look into for me, and I’d completely forgotten to chase him on it. So thanks Liam, and all of you, that’s a real help.”

***

Jessie cautiously removed the violet-blue leaves from the bag that had held them for months, wearing the extra-thick gloves that Fiona had bought for her. Then she placed them in the small white pestle, grinding down hard until they disappeared. Squeezing every drop of liquid from their beauty before emptying it into a small phial. She tied the remnants in several separate bags for disposal, so that no one innocent could be hurt. That would never do.

Now she had everything ready for her final task. Jeans and trainers and hair clips, the phial and new gloves. And, most important of all, her fake pass. She went to bed and fell asleep quickly, with a last idle thought that her prints would be in the system now. They’d taken them after her arrest and again in Wharf House, so they’d match her to the murders eventually, not that it mattered now.

It didn’t matter if or when she was caught, as long as it was after tomorrow, although she’d rather not be caught at all. But they couldn’t hurt her any more than life had already, and whatever happened to her, soon no one would be able to harm her daughters or Fiona ever again.

Chapter Fourteen

Tuesday 10am: Wharf House

“The Government party is at the front gate, Ma’am – you asked me to tell you.”

“Thank you, Aoife; I’ll be there in one minute. Is Doctor Regan on hand for the meeting after the tour?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I’ve lunch arranged in the board room for one o’clock.”

Elizabeth Steele nodded her young assistant out kindly and stood up, straightening her brown suit and smoothing its A-line skirt down with her ringed right hand. She told anyone who asked her that she’d hurt her wedding finger; it wasn’t their business that Bill had left her last year, for a primary school teacher even older than her.

He couldn’t cope with her job, or as he put it, “I can’t cope with the Elizabeth that the job has created.” She shrugged, equality of pay and opportunity were one thing, but husbands still had a way to go.

She checked her coral lipstick quickly in the small mirror behind the door, then pulled her shoulders back and walked out of the office, fixing on the smile that would see her through. Through the cool looks of the men in grey suits, and the long and pointless tour of the facility, stopping pointedly in silence at the empty, taped-off cell. Through the inevitable grilling afterwards and through the lunch of crust-less sandwiches and awkward silences that would pass for a first enquiry into the death of Lynsey Taylor, but which would really start the slow death of her thirty-year career.

***

Jessie stirred the soup slowly and pushed her paper hat back with her free hand, looking cynically around the large canteen kitchen. She remembered her Aga and Le Creuset at the farm. She’d held wonderful dinner parties once, standing with Michael for hours preparing everything. And then disappearing upstairs to get ready together, but getting naked instead, before their guests arrived. She thought of him often and was able to smile at the memories now, finally forgiving him for leaving them. They’d have lost each other soon in any case.

She kept stirring, watching as several hot containers were lifted and placed behind her on the long serving counter. She pretended to take care not to burn her hands, as if she could actually feel the heat. The chubby catering manager wandered over to her.

“You wanted to be on hot food didn’t you, Monica?”

“Yes, if that’s OK? I’m a bit cold today, it’ll warm me up.”

“You’re too thin. You need some weight on you, girl. OK, the doors will open in five minutes, so can everybody change your aprons please and stand behind there.” She indicated the long serving counter with its heated canopy.

Jessie fingered the small phial in her pocket, careful not to touch its contents, a last little gift from the farm she had loved. Then the manager walked over to the entrance, straightened her apron and unlocked the door of the high-ceilinged staff canteen for lunch. While Jessie stood ready to serve, waiting for a very tall man to ask for her hot food.

***

“Has anyone seen Liam?” Craig half-shouted the question across the floor.

“I saw him about 12.30, sir. He was going for lunch, then onto the lab to check something with Des.”

“I’m just back from the lab and I didn’t see him, but I was up with John. By the way, I meant to tell you, Des has a son.” He looked proud of himself for knowing. “But he hasn’t done him any favours with his name.”

“What is it?”

“Rafferty.” The look on Davy’s face said it all.

“All I can say is I hope he doesn’t have a s...stutter like me. Davy’s bad enough but he’ll be there all day on that one.”

Annette hit him fondly on the knee. “I think Rafferty’s a lovely name. He could grow up to be an actor or something famous.”

“He’d need to.”

“That’s just what John said.”

Craig leaned backwards over the desk he was perched on and lifted the telephone, hitting the lab connection. One ring later, Des Marsham lifted the phone. Craig put it on speaker. “Hi Des, congrats on the baby, a little boy?”

“Yes.” There was so much pride in his voice that Craig could practically see him standing with his chest puffed out.

“We called him Rafferty; it has a certain something, hasn’t it?”

Annette put her hand over Davy’s mouth while Craig diplomatically agreed.

“Yes, it certainly does.” But he wasn’t going to be drawn on what that ‘something’ was.

“Des, is Liam with you?”

“No, in fact he was due here at 1.20 but he never showed. I assumed he’d been called to a new scene or something. He wanted to discuss something about the bolt-gun and wire matches.”

The mood in the office suddenly changed to one of alert. There was no new scene.

Annette lifted the phone on her desk and immediately hit Liam’s mobile number, shaking her head at Craig as it rang out. Des was silent for a moment, noticing Craig’s sudden change of mood.

“Has something happened, Marc? Where’s Liam?”

There was no need to take away from Des’ new-father joy, so Craig fudged his response, intent on ending the call cheerfully,

“Oh, you know Liam; he’ll be following a lead and forgot to tell anyone. I’ll get him to call you and re-arrange your meeting. Thanks, Des, and congratulations again. He dropped the line quickly, desperate to get away.

Annette was already calling Danni, formulating a question that would locate Liam without frightening her. “Hi Danni.” They couldn’t hear her response and Craig motioned her to put it on loudspeaker. Annette made her voice as casual as possible, keeping the tone conversational. The last thing Danni needed at six months pregnant was to be frightened.

“Is Liam there, by any chance? Only he said that he might pop in to collect something he’d left.”

“Hi, no he’s not here, Annette. How are you?”

“Fine. And Erin?”

“Into everything, as usual. Liam didn’t say anything to me about coming home today. Mind you, he might have and I’ve just forgotten. My head’s like a sieve with this baby. He must’ve decided he didn’t need it, whatever it was. Will we see you and the kids for the Halloween party? I promised Erin the works this year, now she’s old enough to understand.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it. And Amy says if you ever want a baby sitter, she’s desperate for pocket money, ‘cos I’m such a mean mum. OK, thanks, Danni – see you soon. Bye.”

Craig nodded as she dropped the phone gently. No answer from Liam’s mobile, he’d missed the meeting with Des and he wasn’t at home. Something was definitely wrong.

“Right, the last time he was seen was at 1pm in the canteen. Nicky and I will go down there and start looking. Davy, get the close circuit TV tapes of all exits from the building and see if he left. Annette, go down and speak to the security detail, ask about anyone they didn’t recognise, in or out in the past two hours. Check the sign-in logs and get them to start a floor-to-floor search. He’s here somewhere.”

He saw their anxious looks and tried to reassure them, “Don’t worry, Liam’s too big for anyone to hide.” But it was too late; John’s hit-man suggestion was already running through everyone’s head.

***

It had all gone perfectly again and, through her drugged haze, Jessie thought that perhaps she’d missed her true vocation in life. She really should have been an assassin. Well, maybe in her next life.

The small sensible part that was the old Jessie was horrified by the thought, but she was getting weaker all the time. Drowned in the cocktail of drugs and poison seeping through her system, until the edges of what was real blurred more every day. The only truth she had now was Fiona and the girls.