Thanks for the continuing reviews - much appreciated!
2002
"Look, I'm going to have to go back otherwise Burke's going to be after my head." Christina lifted her jacket from the back of the sofa and pulled it on. "Are you listening? He thinks I'm out checking witness statements, not back here checking on you. Ever since we turned up Johnny Innes' girlfriend he's never been off our backs." She walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of her husband leaning over an open bottle of whisky. "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, never lifting his gaze from the brown liquid.
"Where did it come from?"
"I bought it."
"Mike…" she stepped forward and then stopped again as he poured a generous measure and downed it in one gulp, unable to believe what she was seeing. "Jesus…"
He wiped his mouth viciously and looked at her, "What?"
"This is how you intend to deal with things, is it?" she asked angrily. "Burke pisses you off so you automatically wipe out twenty odd years of teetotalism? For heavens sake, this is only one investigation! It's not as though…" she broke off as he lifted the bottle, strode past her to the sink and threw it violently in, the noise causing her to start. She watched, almost helplessly, as he doused his face in cold water. "Michael, please…"
"I thought you said you had to get back."
"Why are you being like this? It's as if you can't even talk to me, as if you somehow…blame me for what's happening."
Michael turned to face her, "Blame you? I don't blame you for any of it."
"Then why are you shutting me out?" she stepped closer to her. "I'm your wife. I thought were could tell each other everything and yet…since this investigation started you've been…I don't know…keeping your distance." She put her hand on his arm.
He sighed heavily, "I don't expect you to understand."
"I'm trying to understand. If this is about Innes…the minute this case is over, Burke'll go back wherever the hell he came from and you'll be back in charge. Patterson knows what a good officer you are. We all do. None of us like running around, jumping whenever that little shit barks." A small smile pulled at the corner of Michael's mouth. "I am one hundred percent behind you," she continued, "but I can't help you if you won't let me."
He suddenly stepped forward and pulled her into his arms and she buried her face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent and feeling some of the tension leave her body.
"I love you," he said, kissing the top of her head.
"I love you too," she replied. Her voice was muffled, but she couldn't prevent it from cracking on the words. "Promise me you won't drink any more. Nothing's worth that."
Michael pulled back from her, "I promise." He studied her face. "Are you all right?"
"Of course," she replied, but she felt her eyes fill with tears even as she spoke.
He looked at her intently, "Chris?"
"It's stupid. It's unimportant on top of everything else."
"What is?"
"It's just…" she sighed heavily, "I thought…I thought I might be pregnant but I'm not. I really thought this time and I let myself think about what it might be like and…I suppose on top of all of this..."
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," Michael said, pulling her back to him again, "Not meant to be this time, I guess. We can keep trying and we'll get there eventually. You'll be a mum one day."
"Yeah" she said, hugging him tightly, "one day."
2009
The body hadn't even been hidden. It lay in the middle of the waste ground in all its glory. The victim couldn't have been more than twenty-five, dark hair, jeans, t-shirt, trainers and the crowning feature, a single bullet wound to the head.
"Any ID?" Matt asked Gemma who was hunched over the body.
"Got a wallet," she replied, handing it to him. "Driver's licence is in there."
He opened it and looked at the card. "Ryan McDonald, 21 Lannigan Grove, Shettleston."
"McDonald?" Jackie echoed, coming up behind him.
"You know him?"
"Yeah," she looked down at the body, "He's Jack McDonald's youngest son."
"Our very own East End godfather," Matt said.
"Don't let Ray Collins hear you say that," she replied. "They've been trying to outdo each other for years. Looks like a professional hit, with no attempt to conceal it."
"A warning to the McDonald family?" Matt mused.
"Maybe," Jackie replied. "He was shot right between the eyes," she observed.
"Must have seen it coming," Gemma said.
"Lucky him," Jackie glanced up at the sound of an approaching car. "Chris is here. She must have managed to get rid of Ian."
Matt looked up and watched as Christina got out of the car, locked it and began making her way towards them. He felt his stomach flip over at the sight of her and inwardly chastised himself for it. He had learned over the years to control his feelings but since last night, he had found them fighting to be given free rein. "You found us then," he said by way of greeting.
"Yeah, I got Jackie's message," she said, stopping beside him and glancing down at the body.
"Everything all right?"
"Fine," she flashed him a quick smile. "Ryan McDonald?"
"You know him too?"
"I arrested him for stolen credit cards when he was a kid," she replied, "He's Jack McDonald's son."
"Already beat you to that one," Jackie said with a smile.
"All right smarty pants," Christina quipped. "Have you already stolen my revenge theory too?"
"Revenge?" Matt asked.
Christina nodded. "You know that Ray Collins' son Andy was murdered a couple of days ago over on E division's patch. Big gang rivals…it's not too big a leap to think that the Collins' might be getting their own back, especially given it's obviously the work of a professional.
"If it is revenge, then there's the potential for a hell of a lot more bodies," Jackie said. "I mean, this could be the escalation of violence we've all been waiting for."
"God help us if it is," Matt said. "Right, Jackie, take Robbie and go over to the Collins'. See if you can get anything from them about whether this murder could be linked to Andy's death, but tread carefully. We don't want to give them the idea of revenge attacks if they haven't already thought of it." He turned to Christina. "You and me can go and break the news to the McDonalds."
"If they don't already know," she replied. "I passed a car on the way up here just sitting watching the activity."
"Who was it?"
"No idea. Black car, two guys, white, thirties, wearing dark clothing just…watching. Could be some of McDonald's henchmen. Or Collins'."
"Ah well, we won't be telling them anything they don't already know then," Matt replied. He waited for her to fall into step beside him before speaking again. "You're sure everything's all right?"
"Positive," she replied. "Although…"
"Although what?"
"It was the Andy Collins murder that the police at London Road wanted to speak to Ian about. He's been doing some work for them over the past few months. DI Morgan was hoping he might spill the beans about what goes on inside."
"And?"
"And he claims he doesn't know anything. So I told him if that was the case he should make a no comment interview and hope for the best."
"Are you his lawyer all of a sudden?"
She laughed, "No, I just wanted shot of him. He's known about Michael for the best part of two years and he's never bothered to get in touch until he finds himself in the shit. Well he can stay there for all I care." She unlocked the car and they both slid inside. "About earlier…"
"Och, we're never going to get the chance to talk about it properly with all this going on," Matt said. "Do you…eh…do you fancy dinner tonight?"
"What, just the two of us?" she looked sideways at him.
"That was the general idea."
"Ok," she started the engine. "As long as it's somewhere decent and as long as you're paying."
XXXX
The McDonalds lived in a large house in one of the more civilised parts of the East End, a world away from the line of business they were reputed to be in. An electronic gate opened automatically as Christina pulled up to it, so she continued on up the driveway, pulling up and around a large, ceramic water feature and stopping next to the front door.
"I'm definitely on the wrong side of the law," she commented, stepping out of the car. "I think I'd go native for a house like this."
"It's been built on the profits of misery, Chris, don't forget that," Matt reminded her.
"I could live with that," she joked.
"Can I help you?" They both turned to see a woman coming towards them, dressed in jodhpurs and boots, clearing on her way back from riding.
"Police," Matt said as he and Christina pulled out their warrant cards. "DCI Burke, this is DS Taylor. And you are…?"
"Margaret McDonald," the woman replied, her face hardening. "If you're here about my husband…"
"Actually, we'd like to speak to both of you if we could," Matt said.
Sighing heavily, Margaret pushed past them and opened the front door. Despite not exactly being invited in, Matt and Christina followed, stepping into a large marbled hallway, the walls adorned with paintings, and a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "Jack!" she called out loudly. "Police! He's upstairs," she said, turning back to them. "What's all this about anyway?"
"We'd rather wait until your husband was here," Matt replied.
At that moment, there was the sound of footfalls on the stairs and Jack McDonald came into view, wearing shorts and a sweat-soaked t-shirt, a towel around his neck. "Oh aye," he greeted them, his eyes resting on Christina. "We've met before."
"DS Taylor," she said, "I arrested your son a number of years ago for passing stolen credit cards."
"So you did," Jack said, nodding, "I remember you now."
"This is DCI Burke."
"Is it now?" Jack looked Matt over. "Well, if you're here for Ryan, he's not in."
"Would it be possible for us to sit down?" Christina asked, looking at Margaret as she spoke.
"In here," she opened the nearest door and led them in to an equally opulent sitting room which was, in Christina's opinion, bordering on the tacky. "What is this all about?" she repeated once they were all inside. "Ryan's not been in trouble for ages."
"I'm…eh…" Matt glanced at Christina, "I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but Ryan's dead." The McDonalds simply stared at him. "We found his body earlier this morning on some waste ground about two miles from here. I'm afraid he's been murdered."
"Oh my God…" Margaret sank down onto the sofa. "No, no, not Ryan…not Ryan…please…"
"When did this happen?" Jack asked, his face hard, his expression unreadable.
"We think he died sometime late last night," Christina said. "Did you know he was out last night?"
"He said he was going to a friend's house," Jack replied.
"Do you know what time he went out?"
"He left here around ten. We went to bed around midnight and he still wasn't back."
"And you didn't worry when you realised he wasn't back this morning?"
"He's twenty-five, Sergeant," Jack replied. "It's not like we keep him on a leash."
"Did Ryan work for you, Mr McDonald?" Matt asked.
Jack glared at him, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It's an innocent enough question. You run a...family...business. I just wondered if Ryan was part of that."
"I run a legitimate business, Chief Inspector."
"That's not what I asked you, but since you brought it up, perhaps you could explain your legitimate business to me. Because you see, my understanding is that you can afford all this luxury purely by buying and selling illegal drugs."
"You son of a bitch..." Jack jumped to his feet, causing Matt to follow suit. "You come in here and tell us our son's dead..."
"Stop it Jack!" Margaret interrupted, tears flowing down her cheeks. "For God's sake..."
Christina stood up, "Sir, perhaps we should..."
"Get out of my house before I throw you out!" Jack bellowed.
"Fine, but we'll be back," Matt said, "Your son doesn't get executed for no reason Mr McDonald. There's questions that need to be answered."
"I'm warning you..."
"Sir..." Christina moved towards the door and waited as Matt and Jack eyeballed each other for a long moment before the former followed her out of the living room and back towards the front door, which slammed behind them on their departure.
"Get Stuart over here," Matt said, "I want statements taken from them and anyone else in the house. And get uniform to pull the place apart!"
"Was that really necessary? They have just lost their son."
"McDonald's no' the sentimental type," Matt yanked the car door open and then stopped to look at her, "What? You don't think I handled it properly?"
"Well you did tell Jackie to tread carefully with the Collins' and then you go charging in here, all guns blazing..." she cocked her head on one side and shot him a knowing look.
"Aye, all right," he conceded. "Well we can leave it to Stuart and his softly-softly approach, see if that works any better." He turned to her as she started the engine. "It didn't...it doesn't..."
"What?"
"Well, it doesn't put you off, does it?"
"What doesn't put me off what?" she frowned.
"Well...that...how I handled it...my attitude...it doesn't..." he fought for another choice of words and failed miserably, "...put you off?"
"Oh, I see," she said, realisation dawning. "No," she put the car in gear and started back down the drive. "To be honest, it's a bit of a turn-on."
2002
"Anything?"
Christina slid into her seat back at the station and turned to where Matt was standing beside the white board. "Sorry?"
"With the witness statements," he repeated and she could hear the exasperation in his tone. "You've been gone ages, so did you get anything?"
"No," she replied honestly. "I didn't. I think we've exhausted that angle."
"When I think we've exhausted it, I'll tell you," he replied. "Where's Mike?"
"At home."
"Good. Best place for him."
"If you say so," she murmured.
"I beg your pardon?"
She looked up and met his gaze, "I said, if you say so."
"And just what's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, stepping towards her.
Christina bit her tongue, "Nothing."
"No, no, speak up," he encouraged sarcastically. "No-one else is here...floor's open. You've not been shy in the past."
The frustrations and anxieties of the last few days bubbled up to the surface and, for the first time, she no longer cared. "What it means, sir, is that Mike has run this department for years with no problems or complaints. And now, all of a sudden, you're here and it sounds suspiciously as though you'd like nothing better than to get him out permanently and take his place. So you've come in, like some little...Nazi dictator...!"
Matt's face grew thunderous, "Now you listen to me..."
"No, you listen to me!" she got to her feet and faced him across the table. "I don't know what the hell is going on with this case and, quite frankly, part of me doesn't want to know! Innes seems to be calling the shots while you and McLean gossip away in bloody back alleys and Mike gets royally screwed over! Well, let me tell you something. I back my husband all the way and Robbie and Stuart and Jackie do too so if you think that by what you're doing you're going to make us suddenly switch allegiance then you've got another think coming!" She stopped, realising that she was shaking.
He stared at her for a long moment, "Are you finished?"
"Yes," she said, sitting back down at her desk.
"Let me tell you something sweetheart," he leaned over the desk towards her, his voice low. "I don't want your husband's job, all right? I don't need to stand on his shoulders because I've got my own reputation to stand on and, despite what you might think I'm not here to run him into the ground. I'm just here to do a job but while I'm in charge, I expect my officers to fall in line and that includes you, wedding ring or no wedding ring. Do you understand?"
She wearily met his gaze, "Yes."
"Good." He straightened up. "There's coffee made if you want some. The others should be back soon and then I want briefed on any and all developments, ok?"
"Ok."
"Right then."
He turned to walk back towards the office and Christina suddenly felt guilty for what she had said. She had meant every word, but she knew it could have been handled better. There was no point in making her worklife more stressful than it already was. "Sir..."
"Yes?" he turned back to her.
"I stand by what I said but...well...I'm sorry."
"Apology accepted. Let's move on." He continued on into the office, closing the door behind him and then turned to watch her through the glass. She ran her hands through her hair and rubbed her face before picking up the phone. He had been honest with her. He didn't want her husband's job, not really.
But he wanted her and he couldn't have her.
