paper’s edge, ‘What does it say, Charlie?’
‘Everything…’ He cleared his throat, tapped on the page. ‘Says they were told about the bastard’s handiwork… the mutilation, the hacking, the strangulation… Leaves nothing out, pretty bloody gory read if you ask me.’
Brennan felt his hand rising to his mouth, he touched his face but everything had started to feel unreal to him now. All he could think of was the Sloans and how they must feel to have been given that knowledge, to understand that their daughter’s last moments on the Earth had been spent being tortured. ‘Where the hell have they got that?’
‘Pathologist…’
‘Pettigrew, that what it fucking says?… I’ll hang him out to dry.’
Charlie pressed his weight to one side, the counter sighed beneath him, ‘Might have been a flunkey, they’ve had some bother getting the right folk down there. Not a job I’d fancy myself it has to be said.’
Brennan started to switch off to Charlie, he was filtering the information he needed but there was very little of that. He had watched Charlie’s enthusiasm to deliver a new turn of events, a fresh tale, and when he had removed all he could that was of worth to him he started to scan the article. The newspaper’s layout highlighted the most salient comments.
‘ Lindsey was gagged and bound when they found her, when they examined her they found her private parts had been removed with a knife. ’
The quote was attributed to Mr Sloan.
Brennan felt his pulse quicken, he knew none of this was going to help the family. Why had the paper done it? He knew none of this was going to help the case either, or him. He had managed to keep the investigation’s details out of the press so far, he knew that any reporting would inflame the situation, create panic. The public could sometimes be a help in such instances — with sightings, backgrounds — but more often than not they were a hindrance. He didn’t want to be weighed down with cranks or have women scared to walk the streets. He didn’t want to read sensationalist headlines from editors who wanted to sell newspapers based on gory updates and he didn’t want to run a phalanx of hacks following his every move either. There was also the Chief Super to consider; he didn’t want to give Benny any more reasons to question his handling of the investigation.
Brennan looked up from the News page, saw Charlie staring out to the car park. He started to fold up the paper, slapped it down on the desk. ‘Has Benny seen this yet?’
Charlie slit his eyes slightly, dipped his chin. ‘I haven’t a clue. But you can ask him that yourself, Rob. Here he is parking up now.’
Chapter 27
DI Rob Brennan watched the back of the Chief Super’s heels as he ascended the staircase with the copy of the News he had taken from Charlie. He didn’t seem to be lifting his feet high enough, it looked like there was hardly the strength in his legs for the task as he kicked the rim of every other step and stumbled on. He made sighs and repeated outbursts of ‘Jesus Christ Almighty’ as he read the Sloans’ interview; twice he halted in his stride and smacked the newspaper off his leg. At the top landing he turned to Brennan, thinned his eyes and forced the newspaper into his hands without a word. As he strode down the corridor towards his office he seemed to have discovered a new purpose in his steps — each foot thudding like heavy artillery fire on the carpet.
Brennan clasped the paper, folded it over and turned it under his arm. As he followed the Chief Super he tried to devise a stratagem to deal with the inevitable backlash that was coming his way, but his mind seemed strangely blank. On the one hand, Brennan sympathised with the Chief Super — he didn’t want to see this kind of thing in the press either. But on the other hand, he wasn’t prepared to give Benny an excuse to attack his handling of the case. Brennan hadn’t seen this coming; he hadn’t warned the Sloans that talking to the media might hamper the investigation at this delicate juncture, but then they hadn’t been very voluble when
they appeared at the station. The idea that they would suddenly bare their souls to the press mystified the DI.
Brennan followed the Chief Super into his office, closed the door behind them. He watched as Benny removed his officer’s cap and placed it on the desk, then slapped down a pair of black leather gloves. He leaned forward, put his hands on the desk and nodded Brennan to sit. As he manoeuvred himself into the chair Brennan felt his heart rate increase with the thought of the impending attack.
Benny sighed, shook his head. ‘This really is the last straw, Rob.’
Brennan remained calm, there was nothing to be gained from sparking up or drawing down the defensive portcullis too soon. He had been in this situation before, with more brutal task masters than Benny, but he knew his position was precarious now. It had been precarious after the overtime breach, then worse after he had brought in Lorrimer, but the News revelation now made things perilous.
‘It’s as much a surprise to me as it is to you, sir,’ said Brennan.
‘Oh well that’s all right then isn’t it.’ Sarcasm was a hard act to pull off thought Brennan — his wife was an expert at the dark art but Benny could do with taking a few lessons from her.
‘When I spoke to the Sloans they were hardly loquacious… I didn’t see this coming.’
The Chief Super paraded the length of his desk, turned briskly. ‘And did you warn them not to speak to the press?’ his tone was brusque.
Brennan played it straight, ‘No.’
‘ No?’ He made a show of almost choking on the word.
‘I didn’t think it was necessary.’
A loud tut. ‘Well this article,’ he pointed to the newspaper where Brennan had placed it on the edge of his desk, ‘… shows how wrong you were.’
Brennan watched as Benny’s face flushed, his neck muscles looked tense above his collar. ‘I would take the same decision again; as I said, the Sloans were deeply traumatised when I spoke to them, I never imagined for a second…’
Benny cut in, ‘That they might unburden their grief on a sympathetic journalist!’
‘Exactly. It seems out of character for them both.’
‘But not out of character for you, Rob.’
Brennan felt a pressure forming behind his eyes. ‘I’m not sure I follow your reasoning, sir.’
The Chief Super folded his hands behind his back, loomed over Brennan. ‘I mean you have hardly been on top of this investigation from the start.’
Brennan felt the urge to leap from his seat, clamp a fist round Benny’s pencil neck and squeeze till the lead popped out the roof of his head. He watched him, held his gaze firm, then released a slow trickle of words. ‘Again, sir, I’m not sure I follow your reasoning… Perhaps it would be better to have this conversation a little later on, when you’ve calmed down.’ He placed his hands on the arms of the chair, made to ease himself up.
‘Sit down, Rob!’ Benny’s eyes glowed; Brennan could see he’d pushed a button in him. When he spoke again, he was pointing at the DI with his outstretched index finger, ‘Need I remind you of your little overtime stunt, which you undertook contrary to my expressed wishes… And then there’s the matter of drawing a profiler from Strathclyde when you know full well the procedure we are operating in these straitened times is a quid pro quo with Northern… And now, this…’ He reached out for the copy of the News, raised it in the air and then slapped it down on the desk, in front of Brennan.
The DI pushed himself further back in the chair; he crossed his fingers together but remained silent. He had overextended himself with his last remark and he regretted it now. The trouble was that he was irritated by Benny, he felt the man diminished the role of Chief Superintendent with his presence. Brennan had taken orders from people he didn’t rate in the past, shiny arses, careerists, people who would have been better suited to the board of Markies, but he had never taken orders from anyone like Benny. The man was as prepossessing as a maiden aunt; he lacked the muscle for the job. When he thought of his situation, Brennan felt it was like being reprimanded by an effete children’s entertainer, the type he had watched on television with his daughter years ago. Had it come to this? Is that really what was flying up the ranks these days? Brennan found himself staring out the window, switching off to the monotonous tirade that was being lavished on him.
