the reassurance of the unchanging view from his window. ‘Another in a long line of failures,’ he said, more to himself than anyone else in the room.
‘She may have been right, though,’ Rebus said. ‘About the abductions, I mean.’
‘You have to wonder about the human race sometimes, don’t you?’ Magrath said with a sigh.
They stayed a few more minutes, Rebus listening as Magrath told Clarke about sightings of whales and explaining the difference between dolphins and porpoises. The man seemed at peace in his retirement, with its cottage, sea views and village life — it was just a pity none of it appealed to Rebus.
When they left, Magrath returned to his chair on the porch, giving them a wave before settling with his newspaper once again.
‘Reckon the Land Rover’s his?’ Clarke asked.
‘It’s the right vintage.’
She looked at Rebus. ‘Something wrong?’
‘Not really.’
‘You’re lying.’
‘I just think his memory’s fine, that’s all. And judging from the pile of papers by his chair, he keeps up with the news.’
‘So?’
‘So why pretend Nina Hazlitt’s name meant nothing to him?’
51
On the way back to Inverness, Page sent Clarke a text suggesting dinner.
‘You should take him up on it,’ Rebus suggested. ‘The two of you need to talk.’
‘Can I take you along for moral support?’
Rebus shook his head. ‘I need an early night.’
When they arrived at Northern Constabulary HQ, however, the first person he bumped into was Gavin Arnold.
‘Can’t keep you away, can we?’ Arnold said, shaking Rebus’s hand. Rebus introduced him to Clarke, giving her all the information she needed by explaining that ‘Sergeant Arnold is one of the good guys.’
Arnold responded by asking if they fancied a drink later. Clarke told him she couldn’t, while Rebus said he’d consider it.
‘Well, you know where to find me, eh?’
‘By the dartboard?’ Rebus guessed.
Arnold nodded and explained that, like every other uniform in a fifty-mile radius, he had been drafted in to work on the inquiry, as a result of which the building was bursting at the seams.
‘This should all be happening at Burnett Road,’ he complained. ‘That’s where CID is.’ He waved a hand around him. ‘This is suits and bean-counters.’
‘So why base the inquiry here?’
‘
The inquiry room was certainly filled with bodies. Those who had been elsewhere were now gathered to listen to another of Dempsey’s briefings. DNA matches were coming in, and she could now name two of the victims as Amy Mearns and Jemima Salton.
‘The families are on their way here,’ she said, ‘to be told the findings.’ Her voice was hoarse and she paused to take some water from a plastic bottle, clearing her throat afterwards. Her face was pale and exhausted; and somehow, Rebus knew, she had to find strength for these two meetings and the emotions they would bring. ‘Any questions?’ she asked.
‘How long till we have positive IDs on the other victims?’
‘Not long — hopefully tomorrow or the day after.’
‘Cause of death?’
‘That’s still going to be hard to determine. I’ve requested a couple more pathologists from Aberdeen to speed things up.’
‘What steps do we take next?’
‘We continue door-to-door. Maybe some of the farms have CCTV we can look at; same with shops and garages. We need to talk to
‘All the evidence collected from the field and the woods. .?’
‘Is at the lab. Nothing to report so far.’
‘The pubic hair. .’
‘Yes?’
‘We know it doesn’t belong to Annette McKie.’
Dempsey nodded. ‘Once we get a DNA fingerprint from it, I’ll be asking to take swabs from every male within shouting distance of Edderton.’
The officers in the room exchanged looks, knowing the amount of work this would entail.
‘I know I’m asking a lot,’ she said. ‘But we need to be seen to be doing our utmost.’
Yes, Rebus thought to himself, because if nothing else, it might flush the killer into the open. He remembered the tactic he’d suggested at SCRU, and found himself proposing out loud that Dempsey tell the media there was DNA evidence, even if none existed. She stared him down.
‘Have you considered approaching a criminal profiler, ma’am?’ The question came from Siobhan Clarke, maybe to deflect attention away from Rebus. Dempsey met her gaze.
‘I’m open to any
‘It’s just that there’s been a lot of research done into what makes serial killers choose their particular disposal sites. The fact is, the victims came from a wide geographical area but ended up in that one spot.’
‘Meaning it has some significance for the perpetrator?’ Dempsey was nodding. ‘I’ve already fielded a few e- mails on the subject. If anyone wants to suggest a friendly profiler who isn’t going to break the bank. .’ She looked around the room. ‘Or maybe DI Clarke could do an internet search and see what she comes up with?’ Dempsey’s eyes were fixed on Clarke again.
‘Be happy to, ma’am.’
‘Good.’ Dempsey checked her watch. ‘Well, if there are no more questions, I’ve got a couple of grieving families I need to prepare for. .’
There were sympathetic sounds from around the room. Page was pushing past a few officers in order to get to Siobhan Clarke.
‘Where have you been?’ he asked.
‘Here and there,’ she answered.
‘I was looking for you earlier.’ He sounded disappointed in her.
‘I was at the end of the phone.’
‘Mine needs charging,’ he muttered. ‘Nobody seems to have the right adaptor. Did you get my text about dinner tonight?’
‘She’s delighted to accept,’ Rebus interrupted, receiving a stern look from Clarke. ‘And though I’d love to be there too, it so happens I have other plans.’
Having said which, he made his exit.
That evening, despite best intentions, Rebus took a cab from the guest house to the pub. He sat in the front and told the driver he never seemed to be able to find a parking space in Inverness.
‘You should see it at weekends,’ he was informed. ‘Multi-storeys, supermarket car parks — full all day.’
‘Place must be booming.’
The driver gave a snort. ‘Wish I could say I was seeing some of the benefits.’
When Rebus walked into the Lochinver, Gavin Arnold was lining up an out-shot. His dart ended up just the wrong side of the wire and he continued to shake his head as he watched his opponent end the game with double
