The Distant Echo. Val McDermid

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СКАЧАТЬ not out of the closet, are they? They’re all running about with Fionas and Fenellas, securing the succession. Look at Jeremy Thorpe. He’s standing trial for conspiring to murder his ex-lover, just to keep his homosexuality quiet. This isn’t San Francisco, Alex. This is St Andrews. I’ve got years before I qualify as a doctor, and I tell you now, my career is dead in the water if Maclennan outs me.’

      ‘It’s not going to happen, Ziggy. You’re getting things out of proportion. You’re tired, and you said yourself, we’ve all had our heads fucked up by what’s happened. I tell you what I’m a lot more concerned about.’

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘The Land Rover. What the fuck are we going to do about that?’

      ‘We’ll have to bring it back. There’s no other option. Otherwise it gets reported stolen, and we’re in big trouble.’

      ‘Sure, I know that. But when?’ Alex asked. ‘We can’t do it today. Whoever dumped Rosie there must have had some sort of vehicle, and the one thing that makes us look less like suspects is that none of us has a car. But if we’re spotted tooling around in the snow in a Land Rover, we go straight to number one on Maclennan’s hit parade.’

      ‘Same thing applies if a Land Rover suddenly appears smack bang outside our house,’ Ziggy said.

      ‘So what do we do?’

      Ziggy kicked at the snow between his feet. ‘I suppose we just have to wait till the heat dies down, then I’ll come back and shift it. Thank God I remembered about the keys in time to shove them into the waistband of my underpants. Otherwise we’d have been screwed when Maclennan made us turn out our pockets.’

      ‘You’re not kidding. You sure you want to move it?’

      ‘The rest of you have got holiday jobs. I can easily get away. All I have to do is make some excuse about needing the university library.’

      Alex shifted uneasily on his perch. ‘I suppose it has occurred to you that covering up the fact we had the Land Rover might just be letting a killer off the hook?’

      Ziggy looked shocked. ‘You’re not seriously suggesting … ?’

      ‘What? That one of us could have done it?’ Alex couldn’t believe he’d given voice to the insidious suspicions that had wormed their way into his consciousness. Hastily, he tried to cover up. ‘No. But those keys were floating around at the party. Maybe somebody else saw a chance and took it …’ His voice tailed off.

      ‘You know that didn’t happen. And in your heart, you know you don’t really believe one of us could have murdered Rosie,’ Ziggy said confidently.

      Alex wished he could be so sure. Who knew what went on in Weird’s head when he was drugged up to the eyeballs? And what about Mondo? He’d driven that girl home, obviously thinking he was in there. But what if she’d knocked him back? He’d have been pissed off and frustrated, and maybe just drunk enough to want to take it out on another lassie who had knocked him back as Rosie had more than once in the Lammas. What if he’d come across her on his way back? He shook his head. It didn’t bear thinking about.

      As if sensing the thoughts in Alex’s head, Ziggy said softly, ‘If you’re thinking about Weird and Mondo, you have to include me in the list. I had just as much chance as them. And I hope you know what a ludicrous idea that is.’

      ‘It’s insane. You’d never hurt anybody.’

      ‘Same goes for the other two. Suspicion’s like a virus, Alex. You’ve picked it up off Maclennan. But you need to shake it off before it takes hold and infects your head and your heart. Remember what you know about us. None of that matches up with a cold-blooded killer.’

      Ziggy’s words didn’t quite dispel Alex’s unease, but he didn’t want to discuss it. Instead, he put his arm round Ziggy’s shoulders. ‘You’re a pal, Zig. Come on. Let’s go into town. I’ll treat you to a pancake.’

      Ziggy grinned. ‘Last of the big spenders, huh? I’ll pass, if you don’t mind. Somehow, I don’t feel that hungry. And remember: All for one and one for all. That’s not about being blind to each other’s faults, but it is about trusting each other. It’s a trust that’s based on years of solid knowledge. Don’t let Maclennan undermine that.’

      Barney Maclennan looked round the CID room. For once it was packed out. Unusually among plain-clothes detectives, Maclennan believed in including the uniformed officers in his briefings on major cases. It gave them a stake in the investigation. Besides, they were so much closer to the ground, they were likely to pick up things detectives might miss. Making them feel part of the team meant they were more inclined to follow those observations through rather than put them to one side as irrelevant.

      He stood at the far end of the room, flanked by Burnside and Shaw, one hand in his trouser pocket obsessively turning over coins. He felt brittle with tiredness and strain, but knew that adrenaline would keep him fired for hours to come. It was always the way when he was following his gut. ‘You know why we’re here,’ he said once they’d settled down. ‘The body of a young woman was discovered in the early hours of this morning on Hallow Hill. Rosie Duff was killed by a single stab wound to her stomach. It’s too early for much detail, but it’s likely she was also raped. We don’t get many cases like this on our patch, but that’s no reason why we can’t clear it up. And quickly. There’s a family out there that deserves answers.

      ‘So far, we’ve not got much to go on. Rosie was found by four students on their way back to Fife Park from a party in Learmonth Gardens. Now, they may be innocent bystanders, but equally they might be a hell of a lot more than that. They’re the only people we know that were walking around in the middle of the night covered in blood. I want a team to check out the party. Who was there? What did they see? Have our lads really got alibis? Are there any chunks of time unaccounted for? What was their behaviour like? DC Shaw will lead this team, and I’d like some of the uniformed officers to work with him. Let’s put the fear of God into these partygoers.

      ‘Now, Rosie worked in the Lammas Bar, as I’m sure a few of you know?’ He looked around, seeing a handful of nods, including one from PC Jimmy Lawson, the officer who had been first on the scene. He knew Lawson; young and ambitious; he’d respond well to a bit of responsibility. ‘These four were drinking in there earlier in the evening. So I want DC Burnside to take another team and talk to everybody you can find who was in there last night. Was anybody taking particular notice of Rosie? What were our four lads doing? How were they acting? PC Lawson, you drink in there. I want you to liaise with DC Burnside, give him all the help you can to nail down the regulars.’ Maclennan paused, looking round the room.

      ‘We also need to do door-to-door in Trinity Place. Rosie didn’t walk to Hallow Hill. Whoever did this had some sort of transport. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find the local insomniac. Or at least somebody who got up for a pee. Any vehicles seen on the move down that way in the early hours of the morning, I want to know about it.’

      Maclennan looked round the room. ‘Chances are Rosie knew the person who did this. Some stranger grabbing her off the street wouldn’t have bothered to move her dying body. So we need to go through her life too. Her family and friends aren’t going to enjoy that, so we need to be sensitive to their grief. But that doesn’t mean we settle for coming back with half a tale. There’s somebody out there who killed last night. And I want him brought to book before he gets the chance to do it again.’ There was a murmur of agreement through the room. ‘Any questions?’

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