A year had slipped past so quickly. Three months extended leave from work had seen Jackie taking the time to travel, to visit all the places she had dreamed of as a girl but had never really contemplated visiting once her career had taken off. She had been content to stay home and work because work had meant being with Michael. But Michael was gone again, selflessly walking out of her life for her own protection, well at least that was his reasoning even if she didn't agree with him, she was given no choice.
With DCI Matt Burke's approval she had applied for, and been granted, three months leave. A time to get her life back together, time to get used to life without Michael, again. And, she admitted to herself, time to really sort out her feelings for Robbie.
She had waited until Robbie was fully recovered from the gunshot wound and back at work then she had tried to make him understand that she needed this time alone, time to adjust again, time to re-balance her shattered personal life. She left him partially understanding her reasons but resenting her need for time alone when he only wanted time with her.
So she had toured around Europe, the States and had even visited Australia again staying first in Sydney then heading north to visit the Great Barrier Reef. When her money and leave were exhausted she had returned home to Glasgow not really deriving any true benefit from her travels other than to admit to herself that the driving reason for the whole charade had been the hope that maybe she would find Michael. A forlorn hope that she had hung onto for weeks until it had slowly diminished to nothing as her leave drew to an end and she headed home.
She had slipped back into the pattern of her former life quickly and quietly. Work once again became the all-consuming flame in her existence. Her relationship with Robbie was moving ahead slowly. The time apart seemed to have worked on him as well. He had agreed not to try and rush things and so they had drifted slowly and carefully into what had now settled into a semi-permanent relationship.
They alternated between flats, the decision often depending on which flat was closer to the restaurant or take away that enjoyed their patronage in the evening, neither of them being particularly domesticated. At work they kept it professional and although most knew they were 'together' it was never openly talked about, simply understood and accepted. DCI Burke had talked to them both when Jackie had returned from leave and had said that because he understood the situation he would turn a blind eye even though it was against regulations for couples to work together. So they had played the game at work and had maintained a professional distance. Jackie found it all to easy and guessed that the years of hiding her true feelings for Michael had given her plenty of practice at it. Surprisingly Robbie seemed happy with the situation, she had expected him to want to demonstrate his 'ownership' of her to mark her as his property for all the world to see.
At first they hadn't mentioned Michael, tiptoeing around each other on eggshells whenever his name came up or something reminded them of him. Then one Sunday they had invited Stuart around to Jackie's flat for brunch to celebrate Robbie's birthday. The day had been fine for once and they had decided to eat out at a local café that served everything from big fry-ups to healthy vegetarian meals. Going back to the flat, all of them stuffed full with good food and drink, they had opted to open another bottle of red and to listen to some new CDs Stuart had given Robbie as a birthday present.
A knock at the front door had surprised them all. Jackie had got up to answer it only to find no-one there but a small envelope had been pushed through the letter slot and was lying on the mat. Jackie picked it up and saw only the typed words Jackie Reid on the envelope. She took it back into the lounge turning it over in her hands searching for any other signs of who or what it was about.
'What is it?' Robbie asked, getting up from the floor to stand beside her.
'I don't know. Guess I won't find out unless I open it eh?' With that she tore the end off the envelope and pulled out the folded single sheet of paper.
Opening the sheet she scanned the typed words.
'It's Michael, well no, actually it's from Wallace.' She tensed, but read on, frowning over the letter.
Robbie stood still, praying that it wasn't the news they all were dreading. In a gesture showing his wish to protect Jackie from any more hurt he gently placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into towards his body in preparation for the collapse he knew would come if it were bad news.
Stuart got up from the sofa and moved to stand beside Jackie as well.
'What? What does it say?' He asked quietly, also hoping that it wasn't bad news.
'It's mainly about Dreyfus, seems they finally caught up with him. They still haven't been able to pin down who hired him but believe that a breakthrough is close.' She answered quietly.
'And Michael? Anything about Michael?' Stuart had to ask, knowing that Robbie couldn't or wouldn't raise the subject.
'Only that he's okay and settling into a new life. Nothing else. Still I suppose we now know that at least they got Dreyfus.' She continued to scan the letter as if certain she had missed some vital information about Michael then, as if annoyed that it contained no more than the bland statement that he was okay, she thrust it at Stuart.
'Here read it for yourself. Nothing really. No real news.' Robbie heard an element of disappointment slipping through in her voice.
She moved away from his light embrace sliding into her armchair, head down and lost in thought. Robbie continued to stand where he was, his face as he watched her lined with tiredness and a hint of despair. Stuart finished reading the letter and made as if to hand it to Rob. He simply shook his head without taking his eyes from Jackie.
Stuart, all too aware of the tensions that the mention of Michael aroused between his friends, read the signs of a coming storm. Not wanting to be a third party to what was probably going to be a blazing row he thought it was time to hit the road. He had witnessed similar incidents in the past when the spectre of Michael had come between them,
'Jackie, Rob, I'm off. Leave you two to enjoy the rest of the day together.' Stuart said, knowing there probably wasn't going to be much to enjoy of what was left of Robbie's birthday.
'Oh aye, thanks for coming Stuart. See you tomorrow.' Jackie answered distractedly, still lost in thought. Robbie looked at Stuart, smiled his thanks for the gift and flicked his head at the front door.
'You'll see yourself out Stuart? See ya tomorrow eh?' Robbie's gaze returned to Jackie, Stuart already forgotten.
Stuart smile ruefully and quietly let himself out of the flat, glad to be escaping the coming explosion.
'Jackie?' Robbie tried to break into her train of thoughts.
'Mmm what?' She answered, not looking up at him, not really acknowledging his existence.
'Jackie? What did you expect? Chapter and verse on where he was, how he was and an invitation to come join him? Is that what you hoped for? Is that what you're gonna keep hoping for? For how long Jackie? How long are you gonna hold onto that hope?' Robbie's voice rose with each question, his frustration and anger breaking through.
'I don't hold out any hope. I don't.' She countered, still not looking at him, knowing that her eyes would give her away in the lie.
'Jesus Jackie, don't take me for a fool. When will you understand that it's over, he can't ever come back. He may not be dead but he might as well be. For Christ sake can't you see that?' Robbie's voice had dropped to an exasperated whisper. His whole body was tense and showing his frustration and anger that once again he was second in her life.
'I know, okay? I know it's over.' She whispered, her body slumped in dejection.
She looked up, seeing the pain in his eyes. She stood up and going up to him slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and hearing the faster than normal rhythm, knowing that once again she was hurting him. Something she tried so hard not to do.
'But can't you understand that after fifteen years of loving him in secret and then admitting it to the world that I just can't shut the door and pretend it never happened?' She asked, her arms tightening around him, her body asking his forgiveness.
Robbie stood there not responding at first. Trying to hold back, trying to protect himself from more pain.
As Jackie looked up at him, she reached up with one hand to stroke his face, her fingers coming to rest on his lips.
'Can you never understand that I love you both? But the love I feel for him is so different to what I feel for you?' She begged him to understand.
Still Robbie resisted, not looking at her, his face a mask of detachment, trying to hide the pain.
'I love you Rob. I love you in ways I've never loved Michael because you're not Michael. But I love him in ways that I don't think I will ever feel for you. Can you understand that? Can you understand that it's not a competition between you for one love? I love you both so differently. I don't know how else to explain it.' Jackie ran her fingers up his jaw line and into his hair, combing the long fine hair back from his forehead with a tenderness that finally broke his resolve to hold back.
'Oh God Jackie, I want to understand but sometimes I feel that he's there between us and somehow diminishes what we have together.' Robbie wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, crushing her against him.
'Ah Robbie love, never that.' Drawing his head down to rest on her shoulder she stroked his hair and the back of his neck, her touch becoming a caress.
'I feel that… it's more that knowing him and loving him somehow makes what we have more complete. He was the one to make us admit what we felt for each other. In my heart of hearts I know he's gone but leave me that tiny little spark that says he's still there to love and that he loves me still.'
Robbie raised his head and, looking into her eyes, read the plea there and tried somehow to accept her logic for both their sakes. Taking her face in his hands he leaned in to kiss her hungrily as if to wipe away the thought of Michael and somehow take his place at the forefront of her heart. Jackie responded, her mouth delivering up her surrender and, using her body she told him that the love she felt for him was real.
Robbie picked her up in his arms and carried her through to the bedroom where he lowered her gently onto the bed never breaking contact with her mouth. With desperate urgency they made love, two bodies in sync even if the two minds still had their differences to settle.
In the wee small hours Jackie lay awake, unable to sleep, her mind constantly coming back to the letter and the small piece of news about Michael. For months now she had managed somehow to close the door on him and push him to the back of her mind. The letter had swung that door open again destroying her hard won piece of mind. She knew that times like this hurt Robbie. She tried so hard to make him understand that somehow she was able to separate her love for them both but he seemed unable to believe or accept that this was possible. Funny somehow, she had thought that he of all people would understand being able to care for more than one person, going on his past record. But then, since Michael had left, Robbie had proved he was a one-woman man, never straying from her side, not even looking anymore.
She glanced sideways at him, lying on his side one hand tucked under his cheek on the pillow, his other arm flung out across her body fingers curled possessively. Even in sleep he needed to touch her, to know that she was there with him. If she woke first in the morning and tried to slide out of bed he woke immediately, sensing her withdrawal, often reaching out to draw her back into bed, sometimes to make love sometimes just to hold her next to his heart. Her gaze took in his softened features, almost childlike in sleep. What was it about men she wondered that when they slept they tore at the heartstrings even more with their vulnerability. She sighed and, turning into his body, cuddled up to him hoping that the peaceful rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body would quiet her mind and lull her to sleep. As if sensing her added closeness in his sleep his arm curled right around her body drawing her even closer before settling back into a deep sleep.
The shrill scream of the mobile phone woke them both. Jackie reacted faster and reached across Robbie to pick up the phone from the bedside table. Robbie lay unmoving, eyes still closed in pretend sleep.
'DI Reid.' She said, her voice rusty from lack of sleep.
'Jackie it's Stuart. We've got a call out to a suspicious death behind Central Station.' Stuart sounded far to chirpy for 4am in the morning.
'Oh aye, great, just what I needed at this hour.' Jackie grumped back.
'Is Robbie still there?' Stuart asked quietly.
'Aye, trying to pretend he's still asleep. Does it need all three of us?' Jackie asked, thinking that if she was awake she could spare Robbie the call out.
'Jackie don't forget DCI Burke's on leave so Robbie's senior officer this week.'
'Oh shit, so he is.' She poked Robbie in the ribs and was rewarded with a grunt and a shift away out of reach.
'All right Stuart we'll be there soon. Just have to get the lump moving.'
'Cheers Jackie, see you there.' Stuart rang off.
'Robbie, come on, wake up, we've got a call out.' Jackie poked him in the ribs again and pulled back the duvet, exposing him to the cold night air.
Robbie shot upright, grabbed the duvet trying to drag it back on.
'Can't Stuart handle it?' He grumbled.
'Aye he probably could but you're senior officer this week remember, Burke's on leave.'
She prodded him again and then slid out of the bed reached for clothes left draped on the chair for just such occasions.
Grumbling and groaning effectively Robbie emerged from under the duvet and shrugged himself into his clothes as quickly as possible.
They drove through the gathering dawn and drew up in the lane way behind the main carpark. Stuart came to meet them several evidence bags hanging from his hands.
'Messy.' Stuart commented, 'Very messy. Duty pathologist says looks like a very sharp fine blade was used.'
'Male, female, witnesses, what?' Robbie snapped out, still grumpy at being dragged out so early.
'Oh sorry. White female, early twenties, well dressed. No ID, cash or bag. Killer must have taken the lot.' Stuart replied, a rueful grin at Jackie for his superior's bad temper.
'Okay. Any sign of sexual assault?' Robbie queried moving over to bend down and inspect the body.
'No, and don't ask the time of death, or cause of death either. The post mortem results will be available as soon as possible.' This came from the hunched figure bending over the victim's body. The duty pathologist was a stranger to Robbie.
'DI Ross. And you are?' Robbie asked by way of forcing an introduction.
'Andrew McCurdy, relieving at the moment, too many cases of the 'flu.'
'Dr McCurdy. DI Reid. Anything more you can give us now?' Jackie crouched down beside the body. Her gaze swept the many deep cuts that were visible, mainly to the face, neck and chest.
'No, as I said, once the post mortem results are in you'll know everything I know.' With that he stood up and strode off, motioning to the mortuary attendants that they could move the body now.
'What is it about pathologists that they can't bear to be pushed?' Robbie addressed his question to the heavens as if seeking divine guidance.
Jackie laughed,
'Thought you would have learnt by now after all those years with Stephen and Michael sparring.'
At the mention of Michael's name Robbie glanced away, then turning back to face her he said,
'Aye, with those two to teach me you'd think I'd have learnt that lesson well. Still you can always hope.'
Jackie smiled, grateful that he didn't make anything of the mention of Michael's name but looking into his eyes she saw the shuttered look he got when he was tired and hurt. Damn him she thought, I'll not stop mentioning Michael's name just because he's getting sensitive. Her anger surprised her, but then sometimes his overt sensitivity about Michael was starting to make life uncomfortable. Lately the only person she could talk freely too about Michael was Stuart. Stuart was only too happy to talk about how things had been, only too happy to let Jackie ease the pain and loss through talking over old times. Maybe that was part of Robbie's problem, her history with Stuart went back more years, and their combined knowledge of Michael was far greater.
By 7.00 am they were back in the incident room setting up the photo board with shots of the body and the locus. Stuart was working away cataloguing witness statements, all to few unfortunately, while Jackie pasted up the photos, trying to see some order or pattern in the photographic evidence.
Robbie rattled around in the side kitchen making coffee and generally presenting the demeanour of a bear with a toothache.
'Okay, so what do we have? Stuart, want to summarise?' Robbie said, walking across the room juggling three mugs of coffee.
'Sir. White female, age, early to mid thirties. Last seen at the Blue Lagoon club. Left around 1.00 am with two girlfriends but separated from them saying she was going to her car parked behind Central Station. Girlfriends offered to get their cab to drop her off but she refused, said her car was just around the corner. A Mr McLennan, a cleaner at Central Station, remembers seeing her turn into the lane heading towards the carpark. He didn't see anyone else around at the time. He has an alibi, he lives only two streets away and his wife confirms the time he got home.'
Stuart looked up from his notes, at Robbie's nod he went on,
'Scene of crime evidence indicates she wasn't killed for at least a couple of hours after McLennan saw her. A station porter came across her body just before 4.00 am on his way to work. He didn't see anyone else in the laneway but reports he saw a car parked across the end of the lane then taking off at speed. Got a description on the car but no number. BMW 3 Series, late model, looked pretty new he said, dark red colour.'
'How the hell could he tell the colour at that hour?' Robbie queried.
Stuart consulted his notes.
'Car was under the only working street light in the area, he got a good look at it. Described the driver as male, looked like he was wearing a suit, professional class was the way he described it.'
'Okay. Any other evidence found at the scene?'
Jackie picked up a list from the desk.
'Some small items that may be from her handbag found some yards away from the body. A lipstick, brush, packet of condoms and some tablets. The tablets are being tested but statements from the girlfriends indicate she was on medication for mild depression. Forensics are carrying out tests for fingerprints, hers and anyone else. Pathology reports will confirm if any drugs was present in the body.'
Jackie looked up from the list,
'Little enough to start with but at least something to go on.'
Stuart chimed in,
'Sir, the victim's girlfriends also said she hadn't been drinking heavily at the club, only a couple of mixers. You know, those pre-mixed spirits in a bottle, so she wasn't drunk.'
'Which all means she wouldn't have been easy to subdue so hopefully she fought back and left some marks on him and some evidence on herself.' Robbie added thoughtfully.
'Okay, when the rest of the team get in we'll have a full briefing and then hit the streets, some door to door in the area and check out the club. Stuart? Did the girlfriends say if she'd got friendly with anyone in particular at the club?'
Stuart glanced up from his notes.
'No Sir. They stuck together apparently, girls night out. They did dance with a couple of men but no one in particular.'
'Okay. Jackie can you run a trace on the car and maybe get a list of owners so we can start interviewing them?' Jackie nodded and moved away to her desk, switching on her computer.
'Right I'm off to the mortuary, I'll see if I can hurry our relieving pathologist along a little. Stuart? Can you get onto Forensics and hussle them a little too, see if we can get priority on those fingerprints maybe. I'll be back in time to brief Patterson. I'm guessing she'll keep close eye on this one with Burke away.' With a rueful look at Jackie he headed off out of the office.
Dr Andrew McCurdy was bent over the body on the slab as Robbie entered the post mortem room.
'Ah Inspector, your timing is impeccable. I've just finished my preliminary report on the victim.'
McCurdy waved his bloodied hand in the direction of the bench along the wall, a look of anticipation on his face. Robbie walked over and picked up the folder, the report inside was brief and to the point.
'In summary, evidence of sexual assault but the killer must have used a condom as there is no evidence of semen, no pubic hairs, nothing. Definitely not consensual as there is extensive bruising around the entrance to the vagina, sex was forced. Although the lack of any other evidence that she fought off her attacker makes me think that she was either unconscious or already dead when the killer sexually assaulted her.' McCurdy watched Robbie closely as he said this, waiting for a reaction, a response to this supposition of post mortem sexual assault. No reaction was forthcoming, Robbie continued to scan the report and simply glanced up and said,
'Cause of death?'
'Blood loss from the wounds inflicted by a very sharp knife. The first wound was particularly deep and invasive to the sternum region. To be honest I would suspect a surgical instrument, a scalpel perhaps. The depth and structure of the cut indicates a very sharp, fine blade. Victim had consumed a considerable amount of alcohol, rum by the smell of it, and also some pills. The pills, or what's left of them have been sent for toxicology testing, results should be back tomorrow with luck. In general she was in good health, very early signs of arterio-schlerosis, not uncommon in a woman her age in this country. The interesting thing is the wounds. They show a degree of surgical precision, hence the theory about a scalpel as the weapon. In fact the cuts almost mirror those normally used in a post mortem examination. So possibly a medical link you would think?'
McCurdy had moved to lean against the wall, his eyes still fixed on Robbie while he delivered his summary of the report.
Robbie glanced up from the report at this last comment, his eyes straying to the body of the victim.
'You're saying that a doctor did this?'
'Not necessarily.' Here McCurdy's face changed, became more guarded. He went on,
'Maybe a doctor, or someone with medical knowledge of post mortem procedures. Maybe even a cop? Let's face it, you people have seen probably more of these than I have. You know the procedure, it wouldn't be hard to mimic it to confuse things would it?'
McCurdy smiled again, knowing his comments should goad a defensive response from the Inspector. He was disappointed in Robbie's reply, no bite back, not even a great deal of interest in his suggestions.
'A cop? No, don't think that one's worth chasing too far. Cops don't have the stomach for PMs. We see enough out on the streets to bother watching what happens at this end. The only one I ever came across that could stay the course at a full PM is….well he's gone now. He always said nothing ever shocked him anymore, too many years on the force, too many bodies.'
Robbie's eyes had glazed over as he remembered the number of times Michael had stayed through the whole PM, at Stephen Andrew's side, hoping to pick up something that would lead to an early breakthrough. Robbie knew he didn't have the stomach for it, hoped he never would.
Looking up he caught the end of a twisted, ironic smile on McCurdy's face and wondered what the hell there was to smile about with this one.
'Okay, thanks for the info. Just one thing, you said she had drunk a lot of rum? Any sign it was forced on her?' Robbie questioned.
'No….no marks of force around the mouth, only the bruising around the vagina. Other that than no indication that she fought back. In fact, no forensic evidence at all to try and trace the killer. This one was very, very careful. It seems she either knew her killer or was so taken by surprise that she didn't get time to really struggle. Sorry.' McCurdy moved away, draping the body in a green shroud.
'Are you saying that the first wound was the one that killed her and that the rest were inflicted after she died? And that sex was performed after death?' Robbie stared at McCurdy, his eyes locking on to him, forcing him to meet his gaze.
'Ah….no, well….yes.' Strangely McCurdy seemed rattled by the double question and the questioning gaze. He took a deep breath as if to steady himself.
'I'm saying that there are no signs she struggled, no evidence that she fought back. She died from blood loss from deep surgically precise wounds and that there is evidence of non-consensual sex. I guess I better leave the rest of the detecting up to you, after all it is your job isn't it?' McCurdy's smile was back.
'You'll have my full report by this evening Inspector.'
'Thanks.' Robbie gave the body, and McCurdy, one final look and left.
All the way back to the office Robbie mulled over the strange attitude of the pathologist. He seemed almost as if he was expecting something, as if waiting for some startling discovery concerning the murder. Ruefully Robbie shook his head, knowing that murder investigations took time and hard work, not like on the TV where everything was solved in one hour.
Back in the office there was organised chaos as the team of detectives went about sifting through the information coming in and evidence that had been left at the crime scene. The first thing Robbie saw was a note from the Super, Valerie Patterson, asking for an update on the state of play.
He decided to phone her from Burke's office.
'Patterson.' Came the terse response to his call.
'It's Ross here Ma'am. Just responding to your message.'
'Ah Ross. Stay where you are, I'll come down. I have some information on this case.'
'Yes Ma'am.' Ross let out a sigh as the line went dead. Just what he had been trying to avoid, having Patterson sticking her nose in down here.
A few minutes later Patterson appeared through the door and with a brief nod of her head to the assembled team she pointed to Burke's office.
'DI Ross, DI Reid if you could join me please.'
As Jackie and Rob entered the office Patterson dropped a file onto the desk.
'I think the contents of this file may help with your current investigation.' Patterson said as she lowered herself into Burke's chair.
'Ma'am?' Robbie picked up the file and opened it so that Jackie could see the contents as well.
'Six? Six cases with the same MO as this one? How is it this the first we've heard of it Ma'am?' Jackie queried.
'It seems Scotland Yard have been compiling a file on this one and when the standard report from last night's murder was filed it was cross referenced and added to this file. It appears we have a serial killer on our hands who has now decided that Glasgow is his hunting ground. If he follows the normal pattern he will kill one more time here and then move on.' Patterson sounded tired.
'I'm considering recalling Burke from leave..' At Robbie's fierce glare she held up her hand to silence him. '… but I wanted to talk with the both of you first.' Patterson paused, looking at both of them, when no comment was forthcoming she went on.
'For now..' she stressed the word now. 'Matthew can continue to enjoy his leave. However, this case is going to require careful handling. We will be under the watchful eye of the Yard and I don't want any cock ups at this end, is that clear?' Patterson swept them both with a glacial look.
'Yes Ma'am.' Both Robbie and Jackie straightened up as if coming to attention.
'The Yard will be sending a liaison officer, a DCI Spencer I believe.'
At that name Jackie twitched and glanced quickly at Robbie. Patterson didn't miss the reaction.
'Yes Jackie, the same DCI Spencer who was handling Michael's undercover case and witness protection.' Patterson looked away then, swinging the chair to face out the window. Her attitude was one of suppressed anger. Jackie guessed she was still rankled at having been left out of the 'need to know' circle over Michael's faked death and 'resurrection' and then even more aggravating had been Matthew Burke's 'failure' to include her in the information loop during Michael's brief return to see his brother Ian.
'Apparently since Michael is now buried…' Patterson didn't see Jackie's violent reaction to this word, '..somewhere safe Spencer has been transferred to inter-force liaison. He also has experience with serial killers I understand, which is why he has been assigned to this case.
'Ma'am, does he know he'll be working with… us?' Robbie asked, not totally sure if the relationship between Spencer and Jackie was going to be a problem. What little Jackie had told him of Spencer made him think that she had taken an aversion to the man simply because he had been involved in Michael's faked death. A time both of them wanted very much to forget.
'DCI Spencer knows. Is there going to be a problem here?' Patterson leaned forward her gaze directed at Jackie.
'No Ma'am, no problem.' Jackie replied, not actually looking Patterson in the eye.
'Good. Spencer is due to arrive later today so you best prepare any necessary paperwork to help him get up to speed as quickly as possible. I expect a full briefing before close of play, okay?'
'Yes Ma'am.' Robbie nodded agreement.
Six hours later Patterson appeared again but this time with DCI Spencer in tow.
'DI Robbie Ross, this is DCI Don Spencer, from the Yard.' Patterson introduced the two men. They shook hands and briefly acknowledged one another with a nod of the head, wariness in both faces. Turning, Patterson motioned Jackie forward.
'DI Reid, I believe you know DCI Spencer?'
'Sir.' Jackie gave Spencer's hand a perfunctory shake.
'DI Reid, it's been a while. I trust you're well?' Spencer's smile didn't quite extend to his eyes as he stared at Jackie.
'Yes Sir, thank you Sir.' Jackie's gaze seemed to be aimed just over Spencer's shoulder, not quite the frozen ice queen but not far from it.
Patterson spoke, her tone of voice carrying a fake heartiness.
'Well, I'll leave you in their capable hands Don. I still expect that full briefing later DI Ross.' At Rob's nod of assent Patterson left the three of them standing there. The silence grew, Jackie and Spencer finally locked gazes and a silent battle of wills began. Robbie feeling the tension building to explosion point felt he had to step in.
Stepping forward he touched Spencer's arm in an effort to break the stalemate.
'Sir?…..I better introduce you to the rest of the team.'
Spencer glanced down at Robbie's hand on his arm and, looking up he smiled ruefully at Jackie and turned towards the other detectives in the room. Quickly glancing back he said very quietly,
'Later DI Reid, we must talk. But later eh?'
'Aye, later.' Jackie muttered, her icy gaze never leaving Spencer's face.
The introductions were over, with only a little awkwardness created by Spencer's off-hand mention of Michael. When introduced to Stuart, Spencer had shaken his hand and commented dryly,
'Ah yes, Stuart Fraser. Michael Jardine always spoke highly of you Stuart, said you did good work. It's nice to put a face to a name.'
Stuart's telltale blush and quick glance at Jackie had fallen into a sudden hush in the room. Spencer had glanced around at the faces, seeing anger in some, distrust in others.
'So, it seems everyone knows the role I played in Michael Jardine's 'demise' and subsequent other life.'
Spencer's glance swept around the room, making sure everyone was listening.
His gaze came to rest on Jackie,
'Well let's get one thing clear here and now. I was simply doing my job. It was Jardine's decision to take that step. I in no way forced it on him, as a matter of fact I spent quite some time trying to talk him out of it. But once he made that decision I made damn sure that he had the best support possible. And, I made very damn sure that after he was pulled out he was protected to the best of our ability. The only reason I'm not still on his case is because he doesn't need me. He's safe, has been for quite some time. Most of the corrupt cops were found and those that weren't have gone to ground so deep they'll probably never surface again. Is that clear enough? Can we now get on with what I came here for? Or do we want this guy to kill again while we stand around swapping stories?'
Spencer once again swept the room with his eyes, his look one of determination to face down his detractors. Finding Jackie's eyes still fixed on him he raised one eyebrow in question.
He posed the question, directly to her,
'Okay?'
Jackie stared fixedly at him for a few seconds, then dropping her eyes she replied, 'Okay.'
There was a mass exhalation of held breath, and a relaxation of the tension around the room.
By evening they had compiled extensive files on all known data on the six murders. All known facts were checked and checked again against the facts of the Glasgow murder and the similarities made it almost certain that it was the work of the same killer. The surgical precision of the cuts, the brand of alcohol in the stomach even matched with each case, cheap readily available dark rum.
At 6.00 p.m. Robbie and Spencer went off to brief Patterson leaving the rest of the team to think about home and dinners waiting. Jackie had been quiet all day, not really participating in the discussions or theories being bandied around. Stuart had been covertly watching her for over an hour, worried by her lethargy and seeming lack of interest in the case, so unlike her, particularly where there was evidence of sexual assault on a woman. Looking at her now, seemingly lost in thought Stuart leaned over the desk,
'Penny for them Jackie.' He said, cracking a smile in an attempt to cheer her up.
Jackie glanced up, her eyes re-focussing from distant thoughts.
'What? Oh aye, cheers Stuart. My mind was on other things.' She glanced away, then, rising from her chair she said,
'I'm away home. Can you tell Robbie I'll see him tomorrow?' She gathered up her jacket and not even waiting for Stuart's reply walked slowly from the office, head down and lost in thought again.
Stuart watched her go and, muttering to himself, closed up the files on his desk and shutdown his computer.
'Oh aye, I'll tell him. Thanks very much for letting me break the news to him that you don't want to see him tonight. Just great, make me the meat in the sandwich why don't you.'
Then struck by a thought he briefly scribbled a note and placed it on Robbie's chair where he couldn't miss it and bolted for the door. Let them fight it out between them he thought, not wanting to be caught in the middle of that particular argument.
Jackie sat slumped in her favourite armchair lost in thought and nursing a glass of white wine. The jarring sound of the doorbell brought her back from her reverie. Getting up she walked slowly to the door knowing who it was ringing the bell and wondering why the hell he simply didn't let himself in with his key.
She drew open the door saying,
'Did you forget your…..' The words died on her lips.
'Hello Jackie.' Spencer stood on the doorstep, a bottle of wine dangling from his hand.
'I hope I'm not interrupting anything but I felt it was essential that we clear the air as soon as possible. May I come in?'
Jackie couldn't think of anything to say so she simply stood back and motioned him in. She trailed him through to the lounge room where he held out the bottle of wine.
'A small peace offering. I believe it's your favourite. Inside information of course.' He smiled, this time the smile reached his eyes.
Jackie stared at him then deciding that outright warfare was just to tiring at the moment she accepted the bottle and waved him to the sofa.
'Take a seat, I'll get a glass for you.'
They sat opposite each other, sipping wine and making desultory conversation about the current case and policing in general. As time passed Jackie became increasingly restless. Spencer sensing her mood decided to cut through the small talk.
'Look Jackie, let's just get to the point shall we?' Spencer sat forward on the sofa his hands draped between his knees rolling the wineglass between his fingers.
'You and I both know that no one could force a decision on Michael Jardine if he didn't want it, right?' Spencer waited until Jackie grudgingly acknowledged this fact.
'Well he wasn't forced into what he did. He thought long and hard about it and we had many late nights talking through the whole thing. He made his decision, and he's living with it, including all the consequences to himself and others. So please don't lay the blame at my door okay? If you have to blame someone blame Wallace. It was Wallace who first approached Michael and planted the seed in his brain. I only came along afterwards to make sure Michael knew what he was really getting into and that he was the right person to carry it through. And to be honest I had my doubts.' At Jackie's indrawn breath he held up one hand to stop her retort.
'No doubts about his integrity or his ability to do the job but at his reasons for wanting out of his life then. I always felt that there was something deeper that was driving the wedge in and, of course, I now realise that you were the wedge.'
Jackie stared back at him, her mind a turmoil of thoughts. Was he saying she was to blame for all of this?
'No, I'm not blaming you, that's not what I meant.' Spencer read her face, her thoughts plain to see.
'Michael finally admitted to me in the safe house that the decision to break with his former life was based on his inability to acknowledge, even to himself, his love for you which had grown stronger over the years. Your marriage to Brian seemed like the final chapter in any chance of a relationship with you and he felt that the best way to close the door on it was to get the hell out of your life.'
Spencer continued to look at Jackie, his face showing a mixture of respect for Michael and regret for everything that had happened.
'So a truce? Can you accept that it was his decision and his alone even if it was for all the wrong reasons? Please Jackie, we have to work together and to be honest I don't want you as my enemy. I consider Michael my friend and I would like to think that we could be friends too. Okay?' Spencer held her gaze, waiting for her response.
Jackie's eyes glazed over as her thoughts turned inwards. Spencer was right. Michael was just stubborn enough to sacrifice his life to protect the people he loved. She thought of his erratic but deep relationship with his brother Ian and the time that he had almost been killed trying to save Ian from a religious cult. Then he had risked his life again to see his brother one last time before he died. So like Michael, always giving, never really taking for himself. So generous, so loving but hiding it all under a tough inflexible exterior. As Jackie slowly focussed on Spencer tears welled in her eyes, tears of regret for lost opportunities, lost love and lost life.
'A truce, yes….okay.' She whispered, not quite in control of her voice. Dashing the tears away she gave a weak laugh.
'I think I need another drink.'
'I wouldn't say no.' Spencer stood up and moving towards her put out his hand. Solemnly they shook hands. Spencer then grabbed the bottle and refilled their glasses.
'To Michael.' He raised his glass in salute.
'Aye, to Michael.' Jackie acknowledged.
'Don? Do you know where he is?' Jackie's look was one of faint hope. 'On seconds thoughts, don't answer that. I really don't even know why I asked.' She smiled ruefully, shaking her head in denial.
'Because you love him and are worried about him. He's safe, very safe….and I think maybe not happy but at least content. Does that help?'
'Aye, a little I guess. Just to know that he's safe makes it a little easier to cope.'
Jackie slept badly that night, her dreams a jumble of images of Michael and Robbie. She woke early feeling as if she hadn't slept at all. Making the effort to get into the office early she thought she would get sometime alone to go through the files again and try to find some clue that would help get the investigation rolling.
The first thing she saw was Robbie already seated at his desk, file spread out and a notepad with plenty of scribbled lines, some crossed out, some underlined.
'Morning.' She said, putting her coffee cup down and peeling off her coat.
'Morning, sleep well?' Robbie asked not even looking up from his notes.
'Look Rob, about last night…'
'It's okay, you don't have to explain anything to me. I think the note said it all.' Robbie's voice was flat and unemotional, always a sign that he was holding in his anger.
'But I didn't leave a note, I asked….'
'I know, that's what I mean. You couldn't even leave a note yourself, you had to get Stuart involved.'
'Involved? Involved in what Rob? I asked Stuart to pass on a message that I would see you in the morning. For god's sake what is there to take offence at in that? Or did I miss some major point or something?' Jackie's voice rose as her temper headed in the same direction.
At that Robbie looked up, the lines of worry prominent and the dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep softening Jackie's heart. For maybe the first time she noticed the encroaching faint gray hints in his dark hair.
'Rob…I'm sorry. It was just having Spencer here…it threw me okay? I just needed some time alone last night. And before you say anything I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself and I shouldn't have involved Stuart. But try to understand…please?' Jackie stretched her hand out across the desk to bridge the physical gap between them.
Rob looked at her outstretched hand but made no effort to take it.
'So…it seems I'm always being asked to understand when you shut me out of your life. It's always me that has to understand that you can't…or won't share part of yourself with me. Is that right Jackie? Is it always going to be a one way street with us? Me having to understand you but you never making any effort to understand me. If that's how it is tell me now, at least then I'll know where I really stand.'
Jackie stood there just looking at him, her anger rising again at what she saw as his selfish need to lay all the blame for the flaws in their relationship at her feet. He hadn't really changed she thought. He simply could never acknowledge that he might be at fault, that he might be lacking in some quality of compassion. No wonder she always compared him to Michael, he fell so far short of her standards. Standards built on eleven years of living and working with Michael.
Before she could muster the words to retaliate Stuart and DS Grogan came in laughing at some shared joke. Slamming some files around her desk and jabbing the hell out of the 'on' button on her computer she sat down determined to have it out later. She was not going to let this one lie for the sake of peace.
Stuart and Grogan glancing quickly at each other, picked up on the vibes and both thinking it better to make no comment, walked to their respective desks and got down to work without further comment.
For three days the enquiry wore on with no real breaks and many frayed nerves. Jackie and Rob spoke to each other only when necessary and it seemed to the team that Jackie had more time for their visitor, DCI Spencer, than Robbie. Stalemated on almost all fronts in the hunt for clues Robbie went to see Patterson with information he knew wouldn't be popular.
He knocked at Patterson's door and at her response let himself into the office.
'Robbie? What can I do for you?' Patterson didn't even look up from her layers of paperwork.
'Ma'am. I'd just like to run something past you. I don't know if it will give us a break in this case but I just need another opinion.'
'Have you discussed this with DCI Spencer?'
'No Ma'am. I just wanted your input first…if that's okay?' At this Patterson finally looked up.
'So the rumours are true. It's not Jackie who's got the problem with Spencer but you. Look DI Ross, I told Matthew that I would turn a blind eye to your relationship with Reid but if it's going to start interfering with your work, one or other of you will have to transfer.'
'Maybe I'm not explaining myself very well here Ma'am but I just wanted to get your feedback on this before I talked to DCI Spencer. I don't have problem with the man, he has been invaluable with his input and we certainly wouldn't be as far along as we are without his help. But I also didn't want to go shooting my mouth off to him without first sounding you out.'
'Okay…..I'll accept that, for now… but I'm curious. What is it you can't talk to him about first?'
Robbie gazed at the floor for several seconds, trying to focus his thoughts and to make sure what he was about to say didn't come out sounding like some jealous boyfriend flinging mud.
'Okay Robbie, spit it out.' Patterson rested her arms on the desk, her eyes locked on Robbie's face.
'Stuart has been running a little cross referencing on all six murder files for me. There are two names that come up in every file. One sort of makes sense but the other needs a little explanation.'
'And they are?'
'DCI Spencer and Dr Andrew McCurdy, the relieving pathologist.'
'Spencer? On all the case files? But I was told he was only brought in on the third case once it was clear we had the same killer. Why is his name on the first two files?'
'The first file lists him as a witness, apparently he showed up at the scene just after the body was found, claimed to have been at the same club as the victim. The second file shows him as contacting the investigating team with information about the possible murder weapon. No one contacted him, he initiated the contact, volunteered what the file lists as comprehensive information about the possible murder weapon. I'm sorry Ma'am but this just doesn't add up for me and I wanted to talk it over with you to see if I'm reading to much into it.'
'And from then on he's listed a Met Liaison Officer right?'
'Yes Ma'am, and it does seem a little strange that the Met would have picked up on our report of the murder so quickly, I mean he was here less than twelve hours later. The Met don't normally respond that quickly unless there is a specific task force set up do they?' Robbie looked at Patterson and seemed relieved at her answering nod. He let the silence draw out, leaving Patterson to think it through.
'Who else knows about this cross referencing?'
'Only Stuart, he did the computer matching but he hasn't made the connection on the first two cases yet.'
'Keep it that way Robbie. I don't want this to go any further than this office until I've had time to think this through and view the files myself. Let me know when the team has gone home and I'll come down and go through it all with you okay?'
'Yes Ma'am.'
'You mentioned another name?' Patterson tapped her pen on the files spread over her desk.
'Yes Ma'am, Andrew McCurdy, the relieving pathologist.'
'And you've ruled him out?' The pen in her hand paused in the tapping.
'Well not exactly, but he does have a genuine reason for being there. It just seems unusual that he was relieving at the time of every murder.' Robbie rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension building there.
'So we can't dismiss him either?'
'No…not entirely. I'll get Stuart to run some background checks, clarifying why he was in the right place at the right time maybe.'
'All right but keep this to yourself, all of it okay?'
'Yes Ma'am.' Robbie felt some degree of relief now that he had actually voiced his concerns to someone else. He was disappointed that he hadn't been able to take his theory to Jackie but she seemed too close to Spencer and he felt just the tiniest degree of reticence in bringing her into the loop. At least now he had an excuse for shutting her out, he was under orders from above.
As the day drew to an end Robbie closed the file he had been going over for the fourth time, checking and re-checking details on both Spencer and McCurdy and their involvement in the six cases. Stuart still hadn't got back to him with the background on McCurdy but the more Robbie looked at the files the more he questioned Spencer's involvement in the first two cases.
Looking up he saw Jackie watching him, a guarded expression in her eyes. Too weary to go into a battle of wits with her he simply smiled and held out the verbal olive branch.
'I don't know about you but I could use a drink. Pub?'
Jackie registered surprise at his tone of voice, the last few days had been uncomfortable with both of them keeping their distance and only talking shop.
'Sorry. I promised Don I'd show him some of the sights tonight. Maybe take in a club or two.' She paused. 'Did you want to come with us?'
Her question was guarded, not sure how he would take it.
'Nooo…I'm too knackered to go clubbing. I just need a few quiet drinks and an early night maybe.'
Robbie eyes dropped back to the files on his desk, not wanting her to see the disappointment there. He would have enjoyed a night out clubbing but had no intention of sharing Jackie with Don Spencer.
'Okay. Well if you change your mind we're starting out at Club Eros.'
Jackie continued to look at him, willing him to change his mind and come with them. She didn't really want to spend the night out with Spencer but couldn't face the four walls at home alone. Her flat seemed so desolate without Robbie, somehow empty of life and soul. She gave up on the mental telepathy and started to pack away her files and switch off the computer. Suddenly Robbie was standing right beside her, his hand resting lightly on her forearm.
'Jackie? Be careful okay? Just…be careful…for me.'
'Careful of what Robbie? Spencer?' She joked casually and then, meeting his gaze, she saw the genuine concern reflected there. Not the jealousy she had expected.
'Robbie, what is it? What?' She placed her hand over his.
'It's….it's nothing okay. I can't explain, just put it down to a feeling…. okay? Just take care.' Before Jackie could react Robbie leaned in and kissed her lightly but lingeringly then drew his hand away and turned back to his desk.
Mystified by his attitude Jackie continued to watch him, trying to puzzle out his words. Shaking her head at the vagaries of the man she finally grabbed her bag and walked slowly out, glancing back at him, waiting for him to call her back and explain. Her last sight of him was head in hands, files spread out on his desk.
Much later that night Jackie sat at a table in a noisy smoky club nursing a white wine and trying to make conversion with Don over the music and background clamour of too many people trying to be heard over the pounding beat of the music.
They had picked up an early dinner at a café near her flat and then had moved on to Club Eros. The noise and crowd there had finally forced them to move on to another slightly less crowded club once Jackie admitted to herself that Robbie wasn't going to join them. They had danced and chatted, the conversion remaining impersonal, in general trying not to talk shop although there was little other common ground between them except for Michael. Michael was a topic they had exhausted very early on within the first few days after Spencer's arrival.
Glancing around the crowded room Jackie caught a glimpse of a face she thought she recognised. Narrowing her eyes against the smoke and gloom she sought the face again and finally, through a gap made by movement on the dance floor, she was able to confirm her first impression. Andrew McCurdy, the relieving pathologist.
Tapping Don's arm she pointed across the room and leaning into his ear in the vain hope that he could hear her she identified McCurdy to him.
'Guy in the dark suit by the bar talking to the blonde. Andrew McCurdy.'
'McCurdy? Have I met him?' Don yelled back.
'No, probably not. He's the relieving pathologist. He's not our usual man.' Jackie took advantage of the break in the music to get across a whole sentence of information at a volume level below deafening.
'McCurdy? But he's listed as the pathologist on the other cases I've been involved in. Funny that he should turn up here as well.' Spencer's brow was furrowed in concentration as he stared at McCurdy across the room.
At Spencer's comment Jackie also gazed across the room at McCurdy, her face reflecting her thought processes.
'Coincidence? Seems odd that he should be relieving at precisely the same time the murders are committed doesn't it?' Spencer looked to Jackie to see if her thoughts were following his.
'Oh aye. Coincidence. But a coincidence worth checking in the morning maybe?'
At Spencer's nod of agreement, they both sipped their drinks, their gazes still fixed on the distant figure of McCurdy.
Seeing McCurdy moving towards the men's toilets Don motioned to Jackie that he was going to follow him. No real reason in his mind as to why he felt the need to follow McCurdy, except an uneasiness, a gut feeling of a detective with too many years on the job.
On entering the toilets Spencer quickly scanned the poorly lit room, no sign of McCurdy. Two cubicles were locked and obviously in use, Spencer assuming the McCurdy was in one. Fronting up to the urinal Spencer kept his eye on the mirror for McCurdy to vacate one of the cubicles. Suddenly five or six men, all obviously the worse for wear from alcohol stumbled and joked their way into the toilets. Spencer was jostled by a couple of the drunks and for a moment his gaze was distracted from the occupied cubicles. He registered the banging of a cubicle door but in the crowd of men and the drunken jostling he couldn't be certain who had come out.
Without warning an arm came out of the crowd of men and Spencer felt a short sharp jab to his upper arm. He grabbed his arm, massaging it to relieve the sting of the jab. Trying to turn but still crowded by the drunks he stumbled, suddenly no longer in total control of his movements. His head was spinning, his legs leaden. Trying to stay upright he came face to face with McCurdy. He tried to speak but the words failed to form in his mouth, his tongue suddenly unresponsive.
'Hey Don old friend, looks like you've had too much to drink after all.' McCurdy's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Eyes that reflected the dim light but seemed drained of all emotion.
'Come on, I'll give you a hand out of here. Some fresh air will fix you right up. Trust me I'm a doctor!'
McCurdy's laugh seemed to echo hollowly in Spencer's head. Unable to resist the pressure of McCurdy's arm around his shoulders and the hand clamped securely on his wrist he stumbled slowly out of the toilets. He registered in his clouded brain that McCurdy wasn't returning to the club but was steering him towards an emergency exit at the back of the club.
McCurdy pushed through the emergency doors propelling Spencer out into a dimly lit alleyway devoid of life.
'Sorry Spencer but I can't have you messing up my evening. You'd never make a good poker player you know. Even from across the room I could see your tiny brain putting two and two together. And now you've even given me another victim. She'll have to go as well. She's not stupid and I can guess that your little tete-a-tete has set her on the same track. Shame really as I had already chosen tonight's game but she'll do as a replacement . After all I'm not that fussy. They all cut up the same in the end.'
McCurdy's words sent a chill through Spencer's brain. Jackie! McCurdy was going back in for Jackie and there was nothing he could do. Whatever the drug was that McCurdy had injected him with had totally incapacitated him physically but had brutally left his mind alive and active.
'But I'm getting ahead of myself here Don. I need to clear up the trivial little things like removing you as a live witness. Shame really, I've had such fun watching you run around the country chasing the elusive serial killer when all the time I was right under your nose.'
With these words McCurdy steered Spencer into a corner, propping him up against the wall and then loosened his collar and tie and unbuttoned his shirt to the waist.
'Sorry Don to spoil the sartorial elegance of the suit but I want to make sure the first cut is the deepest, if you'll pardon the pun.'
With these words McCurdy drew a small leather pouch from his jacket and uncovered a surgical scalpel, turning it lovingly in his hand, the shiny blade catching the light. Spencer could only focus his eyes on the blade, unable to move or fight back in any way. He had seen his death in McCurdy's eyes. He knew that if McCurdy also killed Jackie there would be no witnesses, no clues to lead to the killer he had tracked for so long.
Strangely the jumbled thoughts that flashed through his mind were that Michael would never forgive him for not protecting Jackie. He sent up a silent apology to Michael, asking for his forgiveness and praying that somehow, somewhere, someone would catch this madman and make him pay for his horrific crimes.
The blade flashed up before his eyes drawing his terrified gaze. Paused inches from his throat he heard the whispered litany from McCurdy.
'First incision should be from the apex of the sternum in a downwards motion to the thorax. Make certain that the blade is held at the correct angle to maximise the depth of the incision and reduce the incidence of blood loss from major vessels. Of course in a post mortem procedure there is no need to concern yourself with blood loss as the patient is already dead. That always got a laugh from the students. Ha ha ha.'
Spencer felt the first cut of the blade. There was no pain, just the sensation from the cutting motion. The drug must suppress the pain centres. How much more horrific was this that the victim could feel the cut, feel the lifeblood draining out of them but feel no pain. This explained why there was no sign of a struggle in any of the victims. But the drug, how was that masked? Why had no chemical analysis found any trace? Was it disguised by the alcohol? All of these thoughts spun through his brain as he registered the cutting sensations, registered the flow of blood down his chest.
At the first twinge of real pain he flinched as the blade sliced home again and again. The drug must be wearing off. He was so weaken from blood loss he couldn't raise more than a whimper when the searing sensation of the blade returned again.
McCurdy, hearing the whimper, smiled to himself. This was the best part, when the victim regained feeling, felt the pain of the knife, felt their life draining away down the overflowing garbage filled gutters of life. He laughed quietly, relishing the power and control this brought, the rush of adrenaline. The buzz was almost as good as sex. But that would come later, with Jackie.
He raised the knife for the last time, laid the blade across the neck and prepared for the final cut that would see life extinct.
Before he could make that cut the fire doors of the club burst open, Robbie, Jackie and Stuart hurtling through and taking in the scene in one glance.
'Dear God. Don?' Jackie's shocked whispered pierced the silence.
Without a word Robbie launched himself at McCurdy grabbing the hand with the blade and dragging it up and back, feeling the shoulder dislocate with the force of the move. McCurdy dropped that blade and the sound of the steely clatter as it hit the ground broke the eerie silence of the struggle. Stuart kicked the blade away.
McCurdy screamed with the pain in his shoulder, but still struggled to free himself by kicking out at Robbie but he only succeeded in upsetting his own balance and falling heavily to the ground taking Robbie with him. Stuart drew his handcuffs and quickly snapped them over McCurdy's wrists.
Jackie threw herself to the ground beside Spencer trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood but there were too many wounds, too much blood.
'Jackie?' Spencer struggled to speak against the remnants of the drug.
'Don. Don't try to talk. The ambulance is on the way. Just hold on…..hold on.'
'Jackie? Must tell you. Michael, no one else knows…not even Wallace….'
'Michael? What about Michael?'
Jackie leaned down as Spencer fought for the strength to tell her, to tell her the one thing she really wanted to know.
Robbie was on top of McCurdy, pinning him to the ground, with his knee between his shoulder blades, applying pressure to the shoulder that was dislocated every time McCurdy tried to struggle. Stuart had raced back inside to bring through the paramedics and back up teams.
Robbie watched as Jackie leant down, her ear to Spencer's mouth. The noise from the open doors of the club and the groans from McCurdy effectively drowning out what Spencer was trying to say.
Watching Jackie's face he saw her eyes widen in shock. She glanced down, her eyes then filling with tears as she realised that Spencer had died and that with his last breath he had given her life again.
'Jackie? What did he say? Jackie…what did he say about Michael?'
At first Jackie didn't register the question. She wiped the tears from her face and, lifting Spencer's head off her lap, she laid it gently on the ground.
'Jackie?' Robbie's voice cut across the space between them, bringing her round to face him.
'Jackie, what did he say?'
'Nothing. He said nothing….it….it was too late.' Jackie's gaze slid away from Robbie's.
Suddenly the air was filled with noise, ambulance and police sirens, as the back up arrived. In the noise and confusion that followed Robbie lost sight of Jackie. Grabbing Stuart between interviews with witnesses from inside the club he asked him if he knew where Jackie was.
'I think she went back to the office Sir. No that's right, she said she was going home to get clean. Said she would see you there when you could get away.' Stuart looked at Robbie's drawn face.
'Is something wrong Sir?'
'No…no Stuart, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to be sure she was okay. Get on with the interviews. I'll see you back at the office after I've seen McCurdy safely locked away. Okay?'
'Yes Sir. Robbie? Why don't you go home and check on Jackie? She's gonna be in shock. She…probably needs someone to talk too. I can take care of this now. Go home Robbie…..go home.'
'Thanks Stuart, maybe I will. Cheers mate.'
Robbie let himself quietly into Jackie's flat. A light spilled out into the hall from the lounge room and walking slowly down the hall he stopped and leaned against the doorframe. Jackie was slumped in her favourite armchair, a glass of wine held in a lax grip, her eyes unfocussed.
'I know I'm always saying this but, a penny for them Jackie love.'
She raised her eyes and gazing at him framed in the doorway she smiled, a sad smile that didn't quite make it to her tear drenched eyes.
'Oh Robbie…..god what a mess. How the hell could we let McCurdy get by unnoticed? And now because we missed the bleedin' obvious, Don Spencer's dead. I don't know if I can do this anymore. There has to be a better life out there somewhere.' Her voice breaking on a sob driven up from her bruised and aching heart.
Her gaze fell away, the tears spilling over and running freely down her face. Robbie moved forward and knelt beside the chair. Taking her free hand he rubbed his thumb backwards and forwards across the back of her hand, a soothing caress to try and soften the heartache she felt.
'Jackie? We…I did know about McCurdy….in a way. But I lost sight of the obvious looking for something else, something that was never really there.'
At Robbie's words Jackie's head had come up and her eyes were locked on Robbie's. As his halting confession came out her anger grew.
'It's my fault Spencer's dead. I knew about the connection with McCurdy but I let my feelings for Spencer get in the way and cloud my judgment…and he's paid for my mistakes.'
'What do you mean you knew? Knew what? That McCurdy was the murderer? How?'
'Stuart had done some cross checking on all six files. Two names came up on all six, McCurdy and Spencer. I took it to Patterson and she asked me to keep it quiet until we could check further. That's why I knew where you were tonight. Stuart was tailing McCurdy and Grogan was tailing Spencer….and you.'
When Jackie didn't interrupt he went on,
'When Stuart and Grogan met up at the club and saw McCurdy and Spencer disappearing out the back they thought maybe something was up so they called me. Not knowing which one we were really after we waited to see what happened. Then you saw me, and when you told me about Spencer's suspicions I realised that McCurdy was our man….and the rest you know.'
Robbie stood up and walked away to stare unseeing out the window. His reflection showing Jackie the anguish and pain in his face as he struggled with the realisation that it was all down to his jealousy.
'You thought it was Spencer? You thought Don Spencer was the murderer? And you let me go out with him? Christ Robbie what does that say for how much you really care for me…that you would use me as bait?'
The harshness in Jackie's voice made him flinch but he didn't deny what she said, couldn't deny it.
'What did he say Jackie. What did he tell you about Michael?'
'Don't change the subject on me Robbie Ross. We're not talking about Michael here we're talking about us.'
Robbie spun around to face her,
'But isn't 'us' about Michael anyway Jackie? Isn't everything we are too each other simply because Michael's not here anymore. Be honest with yourself Jackie, be honest with me. It's always been about Michael. It's never been about us. There's never really been an 'us', has there? What did he say Jackie? He told you where Michael is didn't he?'
The silence stretched on and on. Robbie saw the truth in her eyes. Their eyes locked on each other they both searched deep and came up with the knowledge that it was over. There was no point in prolonging the agony, their love simply wasn't strong enough.
'Go on. Go to him Jackie. You'll never be happy until you do. I love you enough to want you to be happy. If I can't make you happy then go to the one man who can. For both our sakes.'
Standing up Jackie walked forward, slipped her arms around his waist and leaned in to rest her head on his chest. Robbie encircled her with his arms and dropped a light kiss on her hair before drawing his arms tight to hold her as close to his heart as possible.
The plane landed and taxied the short distance to the airport building.
It had been six weeks since she had left Glasgow. She had zigzagged her way across the planet in an effort to ensure no one could track her. She had stayed in several places, changed names and the way she looked and then moved on again.
Her departure from Glasgow had been difficult to say the least. Stuart had been her mainstay, her rock and had actually been the one to see her off at the train station on the first leg of her journey. Her parting with Robbie the most difficult thing she had had to do since saying goodbye to Michael for what she had thought would be the last time. They had spent two days together, away from work, away from Glasgow and everyone they knew. They had talked, sat in silence, made love and simply held each other for what seemed like days but what in reality had been a few precious hours in which to store up memories of each other. Memories that would have to last a lifetime for both of them.
Now she had reached her final destination. Jackie gathered her cabin luggage and, trying not to let her excitement get control she followed the queue of people across the tarmac and into the building. Scanning the surrounding faces gathered to greet the travelers her anxiety grew as she couldn't see that face, couldn't see that smile that had haunted her dreams for so many years.
'Jackie?' The soft voice came from behind her. 'Jackie love…Welcome home.'
Spinning round she was swept up into his arms and crushed in a hug that took her breath away. Finding his beloved face, she clasped it between her hands and gazed into those blue-gray eyes that had been embedded in her soul for so long. She saw a face with the lines etched a little deeper, a few more flecks of gray in the blonde hair, but eyes shining with joy at seeing her. Their lips met in a kiss that contained love, lost time and a hope for the future together at last. Breaking the kiss only to be crushed once again in a hug Jackie laid her head on Michael's shoulder, tears of joy flowing freely and soaking his shirt.
'Oh Michael. I am home…home at last.'
Epilogue
The senior police officer sat at his desk. The file on his desk was closed although he knew the contents, knew what it would confirm. With Spencer dead, an unbelievable stroke of luck there he acknowledged to himself, this news meant that the last nail in the coffin of the cover up had been driven home. He was safe.
Taking a deep breath he opened the folder revealing a newspaper cutting. The cutting was from a local paper in Dunedin, New Zealand. It was dated five days ago. Glancing past the headline he read the text of the article.
Dunedin Police are puzzled by the apparent murder-suicide of a couple in their early forties whose bodies were found in their farmhouse outside Dunedin three days ago. The woman had been shot through the back of the head and her husband had apparently then turned the gun on himself. Locals have told police that the man, Michael Andrews, had arrived in Dunedin from Scotland nearly a year ago and had bought Dunlochen farm. One of his neighbours, a Mr Johnson of Cowend Farm, had said that Andrews 'kept pretty much to himself but seemed a decent sort of bloke, never any trouble and always willing to give a hand'. Mr Johnson also told police that Andrews was obviously new to farming but seemed to take to the life quickly. Andrews had also hinted about a hectic and stressful professional life before coming to Dunedin and that he had made the change to 'get away from it all'.
Police also confirmed that some two months ago Andrews had been joined by his estranged wife Jacqueline. Andrews had told neighbours that they had decided to give their marriage one more try. Neighbours have been reported as saying that they are even more baffled than police by the deaths as they said the couple seemed very happy and were obviously very much in love. Local parish priest, Fr Stephen Parker, had told police that the couple had approached him to perform a ceremony for the renewal of their marriage vows and that the ceremony was to have been on the day they were found dead.
Police sources say that their attempts to trace both Andrews and his wife in Scotland had run into dead ends and that they are mystified by the lack of information on the couple's past. Spokesperson for the Dunedin Police stated that the case would remain open pending a Coronial Inquest later this month.
'So….case closed, no more loose ends to tie up.' The whisper broke the silence in the office.
Closing the file the officer placed it in his briefcase, it would be destroyed at home later. The intercom on his phone beeped.
Before answering the call he snapped the briefcase shut and pushed it out of sight under the desk. Holding down the speaker button he snapped out,
'Yes?'
'Sorry to disturb you Sir but your call from Glasgow is on the line now. Line 1 Sir.'
'Thank you Wilson.' The senior officer lifted the handset and punching the glowing button for line 1, picked up the call he had been waiting for.
'DI Ross? Superintendent Graham Wallace here. I'm afraid I have some rather tragic news for you'
Finite