In Dark Water (Detective Shona Oliver 1)

‘You mean, you don’t know who killed her?’

‘No, I’m sorry,’ replied Shona. Out over the water, a flock of seabirds were a percussion of dark dots against the sky. ‘I have a daughter myself. She’s nearly fifteen. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her. She’s been in trouble a few times over the years, gave me a few sleepless nights, but still…’

‘Aye, they do that right enough.’ Marie gave a short laugh. ‘Lads and lassies, both.’

‘I’m thankful I’ve just got the one then.’ Shona smiled. ‘What was Isla like, as a wee girl?’

‘Smart,’ Marie said with pride. ‘If she’d stuck in at school mibbae she’d have had a chance. She could have worked in an office, good with numbers. I don’t know where I went wrong.’ She sighed. ‘That’s a lie, I do know. I was terrified of Paddy, but I couldnae leave. He told me plenty of times how he’d kill me and the kids. I was doped up to my eyeballs on Valium from the doctor. The tables turned when he got sick. I got off the pills, but by then it was too late. I should have done more for her.’

Shona could think of no reply. They stood and watched Ryan, now jumping in a shallow stand of water, the muddy spay leaving dimples around the edges of the pool.

‘I saw on the news that Jamie Buckland’s dead.’ Marie said. ‘Nice lad that, Isla was fond of him.’

‘Do you know if he has any relatives? Who’s his next of kin?’

Marie shook her head. ‘His ma was in and out of the jail and his father drank. They’re both dead. Brother and sister were jakies, OD’d years back. Suppose he was always gonnae go the same way.’

‘It always comes as a shock though, doesn’t it? Someone so young.’ Shona paused. ‘My daughter recently had a serious accident. It brought home to me how fragile life is, how one action can sweep away someone you love. I know an explanation of what happened is no substitute for your daughter’s life, but I hoped I could at least give you that. I’m sorry I failed to do that.’

‘So, you’ll not be investigating it any more.’

‘Another officer will take over the case and I believe, together with the fiscal, they’ll conclude that Isla died as the result of a road accident, that the driver panicked and disposed of the body unlawfully. Anyone caught in relation to her death will face that charge. But Isla will be released now, so you can have the funeral.’ She tried to end on a positive note, but how could telling a mother she would soon be free to bury her daughter ever sound anything less than tragic.

‘How come you’re not in charge?’

Shona sighed. ‘I didn’t see eye-to-eye with my boss. He thought I shouldn’t have been investigating Isla’s death in such detail.’ She paused and took a breath. ‘You know, I brought her body ashore with the lifeboat.’

Marie’s eyes went to the RNLI logo on Shona’s jacket then back to her face. ‘No. I didnae know that.’ Shona sensed she was under scrutiny, Marie’s shrewd expression softening.

‘Maybe that’s what made me want to find out what happened,’ Shona said quietly. ‘Maybe I let it affect my judgement. I’m sorry. I feel that I’ve let you both down.’

Marie turned away and Shona saw her take out a paper hankie. ‘This wind goes for your eyes,’ she said hastily, wiping away tears. After a moment she said, ‘You shouldnae blame yourself.’ Her eyes were on the far horizon of the Solway. Then she put out her hand and gripped Shona’s arm just above the wrist, and the two women stood watching the waves and the boys playing by the water.

?

??Listen,’ said Marie eventually. ‘Mibbae you should have a cup of tea at my place. There’s something I’d like to show you.’

* * *

DCI Gavin Baird was in his office early after a sleepless night. Nicola had complained about his tossing and turning, she had an important day ahead, a meeting with a local party executive that might back her for a Scottish Parliament seat at the next election. She needed her sleep. For a moment he almost told her, told her where her ambition and social climbing had led them. But he was the one doing the climbing, Nicola was already up there.

Finally, around four a.m., he’d gone downstairs, padding into the kitchen in sleep shorts and T-shirt to make some warm milk. He’d had one of the tech boys unlock Shona’s phone. Now he slipped it from the evidence bag, turning it over and over in his hand while he sipped his drink. He’d checked the call log, then opened the picture files. There was the woman Shona had fished from the Solway, before and after. Headshots of the illegal immigrant found on the motorway, and Wazir, the guy they’d nailed for the baby milk thefts. In the middle was a low-quality still from a CCTV camera showing two men in a street of Victorian terraced houses. Baird had scrolled past it but flicked back, scrutinising the monochrome blurs. Then he searched the original video files. He’d sat forward on the edge of the sofa, the milk going cold in his cup.

Fuck. She had almost all the pieces. He’d been right to suspend her. He’d made a call, but it went straight to voicemail. He’d tried over and over with the same result, then spent the rest of the night on the sofa wrapped in one of Nicola’s fancy blankets, Shona’s phone in his hand, waiting for the dawn.

Now, Baird paced his office. DCI Oliver’s phone lay on his desk like an accusation. Things should never have gone this far. Three murders, that’s what she was talking about. He glanced at the chair where she’d sat the evening before, looking at him. Her expression was plain: he was a plod, a dull copper who couldn’t join the dots. She was wrong, he had joined the dots. But he saw an entirely different picture.

He remembered the look she’d given him when he’d taken her warrant card. She wasn’t going to let this go. There would be scrutiny. He’d stop her in the end, everyone has weaknesses and he’d found Shona’s. Was that enough? Things might come out along the way, things neither he nor, God forbid, Nicola would want made public. But he got results, that was the bottom line. That’s what kept him moving upwards. He could fix this.

Baird ignored his police-issue mobile on the desk, went to his jacket and pulled out his personal phone, his ‘secret shagging phone’ as Nicola called it. As if he’d time for an affair. Her little joke. His obsession, his love for Nicola was both his strength and his greatest weakness. Did she have secrets from him? He didn’t doubt it.

He called a dozen more times, all straight to voicemail. What would he say when they finally picked up? He had an alien sensation lodged in the pit of his stomach. It took him a while to identify, it was so long since he’d felt it. Fear, plain and simple. If he wasn’t careful everything he’d achieved would come tumbling down, pulled apart by some wee woman sat in some arse-end town in the borders. Damage limitation was called for. He dialled. This time there was an answer.

‘Listen, I’ve sorted that problem in the south,’ Baird said to the gruff greeting at the other end of the line, ‘but you need to keep things calm for a bit.’

‘Too late for that, Gavie-boy.’

‘What do you mean?’