around in the living room you can keep it if you like?
Mrs Kaitlin Fleming 49 Hill Terrace
Oh, no we ve lived here for donkeys: long before they threw up those bloody flats. It s a disgrace, isn t it? I mean, why the council doesn t evict the lot of them is beyond me.
Just I held the list up again. Just take another look and tell me if you saw anything unusual on any of these dates
How many more? I leaned back against a tree, looking up through its bare branches at the dirty-orange sky.
Dr McDonald checked her list. Nineteen. Breath hanging around her head in a cloud of pale mist, glowing in the streetlight. She tucked her hands into her armpits and stomped her feet.
This was your idea, remember?
My phone rang: RHONA. I jabbed the button.
Sorry, Guv, been interviewing sex offenders all day. Got a missed call from you on my mobile what s up?
Don t worry about it. Wanted you to run a PNC check on Steven Wallace, but someone s doing it.
Oh. OK. A pause. Isn t Steven Wallace that wanker on the radio? Saw him on the telly being interviewed by STV kidding on he s some sort of Birthday Boy expert.
I stared up at the branches again. Frowned. PNC checks
Guv?
You did three PNC checks on Birthday Boy victims families.
I did?
According to the computer.
Oh Some rustling. Any idea when?
Sabir s spreadsheet was sitting on Dr McDonald s laptop somewhere, but could I remember the details? Do me a favour: tell Weber I won t be in tomorrow morning, we re still following up on those door-to-doors.
Got some sausages and bacon and black pudding in for breakfast. Anything else you fancy?
No, I m
There was someone watching us a hairy man in a dark anorak, pointy nose, digital camera hanging around his neck, standing next to a people-carrier parked on the other side of the street. Little bastard wouldn t take a telling.
I stepped into the road, and he flinched. Backed up a step. Then dug a set of keys out of his pocket, fumbling with the driver s door lock.
Guv? Everything OK?
I hung up, stuck the phone back in my pocket, balled my fists.
Right, you little shite.
He squealed, wrenched the door open, threw himself inside, jammed the key in the ignition.
Too slow.
Should have locked the door first.
I dragged him out onto the road.
He tried to scramble away, shoes scuffing against the tarmac, going nowhere. Please! It wasn t me: I m just doing my job!
I grabbed his camera and pulled. The strap tightened around his neck.
What did I tell you about taking photos of me?
I didn t! I didn t! Ulk Hands flapping for the camera. I can show you! Please Let go Please
I let go, and the thing thumped into his chest. A couple of deep breaths, then he turned the camera over and pressed some buttons until the display screen on the back lit up with a shot of Steven Wallace s grinning face. The next one was the same, and the next, and the one after that. Then there were pictures of a TV crew interviewing local residents, then a bunch of head-and-shoulder photos of what looked like local residents. The standard pish the Castle News and Post liked to print alongside idiotic quotes, like:
Oh, I ve lived here a hundred and twelve years and nothing like this has ever happened before! Agnes Dalrymple (82)
Not a single picture of me, or Dr McDonald.
He switched the thing off and the screen went black. Then looked up at me, on his arse in the middle of the road. See?
I stuck out a hand and helped him up. You OK?
It s not me you ve got to worry about, it s Jennifer. She s on a bloody mission. He wiped the seat of his trousers. Sorry about your house, by the way.
She been digging into that too?
Off the record? She s digging into everything: you and Len Murray, you and Andy Inglis, you and some pole- dancer
Mrs Elizabeth Dubrowski Flat 2, 48 Hill Terrace
I think it s that Kevin Flemming. Thirty-four and still living at home, what kind of grown man does that? Mrs Dubrowski sniffed, top lip curled as if someone had farted. She d squeezed herself into white stretch jeans and a white fluffy jumper designed for someone half her age, and size. And his mum s no better moaning on the whole time about how her view s been ruined. As if they built these flats to spite her. Egotistical bitch.
And did you see Kevin Flemming acting suspiciously?
Mrs Dubrowski leaned in close and enveloped me in a throat-catching reek of perfume. He smokes dope. And he s got a skateboard. Grown man of thirty-four!
Dear Jesus
The stick-thin teenager shrugged, then closed the door.
I slouched down the stairs and out onto the pavement. Dr McDonald trailed along behind me, yawning.
A misty drizzle made the streetlights sparkle.
I stuck my hands in my pockets. The small velvet box from Little Mike s Pawn Shop was still there. Don t know about you, but I ve had enough tosspots for one day.
Urgh Another yawn. Chinese for tea, I mean if that s OK with you, every time I stay with Aunty Jan we always have Chinese; she s chicken chow mein mad, but it wouldn t be Oldcastle without prawn crackers.
It wasn t far to the car, but my whole face ached from the cold by the time we d clambered inside. I turned on the engine and cranked the heater up full. A whistling roar and the smell of burning dust filled the interior.
Dr McDonald s phone blared out a familiar tune something goth, or emo the kind of thing Katie liked.
Ooh, no one ever calls me She answered it.
Alice speaking Uh-huh, hello, Detective Chief Superintendent, are you Yes No, I don t think I see.
I stuck the headlights on and pulled away from the kerb. Seatbelt.
Sorry. She did as she was told. No, not you, Detective Chief Superintendent, I was talking to Ash Yes he is I Hold on. She held the phone against her chest. It s Detective Chief Superintendent Dickie.
As if I hadn t worked that out already.
He says Megan Taylor s mother and father got a birthday card from the Birthday Boy this morning.
I stared across the car. She only went missing yesterday. And why s it taken them so long to tell anyone?
Dr McDonald grabbed the dashboard with her free hand, eyes wide.
Watch the road, watch the road! Back to the phone.
But she only went missing yesterday Yes, I do Very significant, I mean OK, yes, fine, we ll be right over.
Chapter 31
Megan s birthday was on Monday, same as Katie s. She was a little shorter; a little wider; with long blonde hair hauled back from her face; eyes rimmed in red; mouth open in a frozen, silent scream; wearing the same clothes she d had on in the CCTV footage from the shopping centre. Tied to a chair in a filthy little room with a dirt floor and exposed wooden beams.
