They’d almost lost their son that day – not to his wounds, but to the ghosts that occupied his mind. Seeing Greg kill his own wife and then, plagued by the demons that resided in his best friend’s head, go for his own son – Angus’s godson, would haunt him forever. Angus had reacted in the only way he could – had done the same thing that anyone else would have done to protect little Billy – he killed Greg, and in doing so, extinguished a part of himself. That day Angus had lost not only his best friend but a huge chunk of his extended family, and it had taken him to places even Fergus couldn’t imagine.
Fists clenched, Fergus looked from his wife to the official-looking brown envelope that lay between them on the breakfast bar. Its contents were life changing – traumatising and definitely something they should face as a family. He sighed; his wife would get her own way. Corrine McGuire always did. But it didn’t mean that Fergus had to be happy about it.
As if sensing his acquiescence, Corrine moved round to join her husband. Placing her arms round his oversized tummy, she hugged him close and, voice muffled by his jumper, she said, ‘We’ll get through this. We always do … besides, we’re not alone, I know where we can get professional help for this. We’ll be OK.’
Eyes fixed on the envelope that contained a nightmare as bad as the ones he’d once had about his son, Fergus kissed the top of his wife’s head, but deep inside he wasn’t so sure they would survive this. Deep inside, a premonition that the contents of that envelope would decimate his family took hold and no matter how tightly he hugged his wife, it just wouldn’t let go.
Chapter 2
Bradford
Visiting a crime scene, almost always, resulted in a spurt of exhilaration, a spasm of dread, and a healthy dose of resignation; not again, when will these evil bastards stop keeping us in a job? DI Gus McGuire stood on the small square of lino that was placed just inside the front door and just in front of another door leading to the staircase stretching to the upstairs rooms. Hissing Sid, the chief CSI, had told him what to expect and now dread had been replaced by resignation.
With both doors ajar now, the space Gus stood in was reduced to less than a metre square. His detective sergeant, the diminutive Alice Cooper, attempting unsuccessfully to peer over his shoulder to where the body dangled from the banister while muttering and moaning behind him, was the ultimate distraction.
‘How am I supposed to see a bloody thing with your big head in the way? Any chance you could hunker down a bit…’
Both wearing bunny suits, as Alice called the crime scene overalls they’d donned just before entering the premises, Gus had already nearly succumbed to the cloying claustrophobic sensation that often led to a panic attack and his partner’s wittering was doing his head in big time. ‘For goodness’ sake, Al. Just shut up for a minute. We’ll swap over. Just wait.’
And with less grace than speed, he edged to the side, narrowly balancing on the foot plates Hissing Sid had deposited on the floor.
‘Don’t you compromise my scene, Gus. You look a bit wobbly there.’ Hissing Sid’s words from outside the door were accompanied by the usual noxious fart that he seemed to store up for just such occasions.
Gus could have throttled the man. It seemed that Sid’s CSI suit wasn’t up to the task of isolating his pernicious trumps, and despite being outside, the stench still seemed to waft indoors. Cursing under his breath, Gus began to breathe in through his mouth, acknowledging that his earlier satisfaction that they hadn’t caught a ‘ripe one’ this time, had been premature. Ignoring the CSI, he shimmied Alice to the front using a shuffling motion that felt like a parody of some sort of erotic dance, so they could both see the crime scene with the body still in situ. Thank God neither Compo nor Taffy were there to witness this. Bad enough that he could hear Sid’s chortles of amusement. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that Sid had recorded the entire thing on his phone. ‘Don’t you dare upload…’
‘Oops, too late.’ Sid, mask pulled down below his neck revealing his most definitely not contrite face, grinned. ‘Only sent it to Compo and Taffy…’
No time for dwelling on what the rest of the team would make of his and Alice’s shimmy, Gus darted a dark frown at the man and then turned to view the scene. The CSIs, having forensically secured the stairs and the equally miniscule area around the body, had retreated into the bedrooms to allow Gus and Alice to view the scene as it had been discovered.
It only took a single glance for Gus to realise that their decision was one which he appreciated, for this crime scene was like no other Gus had ever witnessed.
‘Is that…?’
Exhaling long and slow, Gus nodded, then realising Alice couldn’t see him said, ‘Yep. We’ve got some sort of ritual here. No wonder Sid wanted us to view it before they removed the body.’
He turned to the uniformed officer who had signed them into the inner cordon of the
