A cacophony of urgent voices echo through the house.
‘Get the ladder back up!’
‘She’s going to fall!’
‘Fuck’s sake, Sid, why’d you let go?’
They’re too late though. Her weight on the pulley causes the surrounding plasterboard, softened by the leaking roof tile, to crash to the floor. The entire pulley comes away from the ceiling and with flailing limbs, her eyes once more focussed on his, the unfortunate CSI lands with an ominous thud on the floor beneath.
He doesn’t wait to determine her fate. All his instincts tell him to move. Whether she’s dead or not, he can’t afford to be seen in the attic. He has to go, now, before the dust settles, before their attention is directed upwards to the hole in the ceiling. Making use of the chaos below, he gathers his things together, his movements covered by the babble beneath him as he scuttles across the ceiling to his escape route.
His heart is thumping, adrenalin surging through his body and inside he’s laughing and laughing and laughing. This is so exhilarating, so much better than he could have hoped for. Making his escape, he hears the sirens from an ambulance as he disappears into the crowds, and while content with his day’s work, he’s still wondering where DI Gus McGuire is. That will be his homework for tonight.
Chapter 61
Bellbrax Psychiatric Facility, Scotland
Gus was standing in an upstairs hallway with his mother, Carlton, Sadia, and Dr Mara, Jimmy’s psychiatrist. They were looking down into the spacious garden area from a window above. Each of them lost in their own thoughts as they studied Jimmy, working at a raised flower bed with a plastic trowel, and a bucketful of bulbs beside him.
‘I’ve worked with Jimmy now for around three years. His medication generally keeps him on the straight and narrow and physically he hasn’t lashed out at anyone other than himself. However, during the past few weeks he’s been distressed, out of sorts. He has something on his mind yet seems unable to verbalise it. He has had to be sedated a few times recently and that’s just not like him. Earlier today, he punched himself repeatedly in the head and face. Aware that you were coming, we gave him only a light sedation and he seems more stable now.’
This man they were discussing was Gus’s uncle, yet Gus could see little to intimate a family connection from the other man’s appearance. Unlike Corrine, Jimmy, or Jamie as she insisted on calling him, was tall and although skinny and hunched, he looked physically able to handle himself. His hair was grey. He seemed focussed on the task in hand, but every so often, he straightened, rolled his shoulders, and thrust his hands into his pockets, leaving his trowel stuck into the earth.
The psychiatrist continued to speak, Carlton nodding periodically which allowed Gus to just watch Jimmy and glance up to his mum now and again.
‘In Jimmy’s mind, women have always let him down.’ She paused, quirked her head to one side and tutted. ‘No, that’s not quite correct. It’s not women – it’s females – women and girls. He thinks that all the females in his life have let him down – partly because of his own mother’s toxicity and the lies she embroiled him in concerning your leaving.’
She inclined her head towards Corrine. ‘His betrayal stems from you leaving. He placed all his faith and love on you and then to be told you’d gone to a proper family leaving him behind with a mother who abused him, affected him greatly. We’re still trying to work out the extent of some of the abuse – but it’s not good. Physical examinations make us suspect that he was prostituted out as a pre-adolescent – probably to fund his mother’s drug habit.’
Corrine rung her hands, one palm resting on the window as if she could touch her brother.
‘Mum, come and sit down.’
But Corrine shook her head, determined to drink in everything she could as if she could perhaps make up for all the lost years. ‘Jamie, did not kill anyone.’
Corrine’s words came out strong and accusatory. ‘You have got this all wrong. You need to reassess him, putting those notions to the back of your mind.’
‘My dear…’ Carlton began.
But Corrine’s glare was enough to quieten him. She turned to Dr Mara. ‘I’m a child psychologist, so I do have some experience in this field. I also know my brother. He did not kill anyone. He just couldn’t!’
Dr Mara’s eyes were kind as she nodded. ‘I’m sorry, but we’ve worked with Jimmy for years now … He admits to the murders; he freely talks about his hate of women.’
Corrine glared at her. ‘Yet, he’s never attacked or insulted you?’
Dr Mara shook her head.
‘Or any of your female staff?’
‘No, but…’
‘If I’m not allowed to visit with my brother, I’d like to be left in peace to observe how he interacts with Professor Carlton and my son.’
With a forced smile, Dr Mara nodded to Gus and Carlton. ‘If you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you to Jimmy.’
Despite not wanting to leave his mum, Gus trusted Sadia to look after her. Corrine was being uncharacteristically abrasive and it worried Gus. As they approached him through the French windows leading into the garden, Gus saw that Jimmy’s hair wasn’t grey, it was white and he was more stooped than he’d first thought. Tall, and almost anorexic looking, he was hunched, his movements mechanical and slow as he used the small trowel to plant his bulbs, occasionally pulling out an errant weed and tossing it onto the wheelbarrow behind him.
‘Does he get visitors?’
‘Only one
