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‘Well something happened. I know that look. So don’t pretend that it was just another bout of stress or over-tiredness from the job. And don’t think about getting creative and playing the low blood sugar card, either!’

Valentine turned the key, started to feed the steering wheel through his dry palms. As they left the car park and turned onto King Street he was aware that he hadn’t responded to McCormack yet. The tension between them was building steadily but he was lost for a response. She wasn’t going to accept the stock reply and he didn’t have the focus to summon a more thoughtful answer.

‘Look, what do you want me to say? I can’t get to grips with this any better than you, or anyone else for that matter.’

‘Maybe we need to call Hugh Crosbie again, I mean, if things have escalated for you.’ McCormack removed her mobile from the black leather bag on her lap. She was scrolling through numbers as Valentine spoke. ‘No. I mean, not yet.’ They’d reached the crossroads at the racecourse, the traffic lights – forever red – had the cars backed up through both lanes. The DI pulled on the handbrake, there didn’t seem to be any chance that they were going anywhere for a little while. ‘The picture, you know the one I mean …’

‘The one that Hugh drew for you?’

‘That’s the one.’ Valentine fiddled with the gear stick, tapped fingers on top. ‘I stuck it on the fridge and my dad saw it.’

McCormack interrupted, ‘He recognised the man in the picture?’

‘That’s right. An old uncle, apparently. Some sort of relative anyway.’

‘He was in uniform. Did he die in the War?’

The tense feeling inside the car seemed to be easing, McCormack’s tone dropping to a more rational level. ‘No, actually, he didn’t. I don’t know him, I never did, but my dad said he came back from the war with shell shock, only it wasn’t from the bombing. There was some kind of incident he was involved in, something that scared him for the rest of his days. He was a strange one, a loner, by all accounts for ever more. I think my mother knew the full story but she only touched on it with my father, it was the kind of thing that Dad wouldn’t mention, personal y’know, like something he wouldn’t want another man knowing, or even feel comfortable discussing.’

‘Christ above, well you know what that sounds like to me: a sexual assault.’

‘I thought so, too. There must have been plenty of that sort of thing going on in wartime. I think he endured it because of the era he lived in, men just didn’t speak up about it, there was far too much shame involved.’

The traffic started to ease, the bumper ahead moved off. Valentine selected first gear.

‘This all sounds very familiar,’ said McCormack.

‘War is hell, you mean?’

‘No. It’s familiar to the Tulloch and Finnie case in Afghanistan.’

‘The second Phil and Ally came back with the story from the lad in the barracks. It was like I could feel, no sense, the connection.’

‘The gents, this is what you’re building up to? You passed out because something happened in there and I don’t think it was a pissing contest with Flash Harris.’

Valentine broke into a weak smile. ‘Everything’s a pissing contest with Harris. But, yes, you’re right. I saw something. But that wasn’t the first time. There’s been nightmares, sweats, visions … Just like on the Janie Cooper case. I know things are getting worse though because I saw Bert, just like that time in Glasgow when I saw Janie, do you remember when I passed out?’

‘You wouldn’t let me call an ambulance.’

‘For all the good it would have done me, Sylvia. I’m strangely at ease with this today, it’s like familiar territory now. I was scared witless when it happened to me the first time and the nightmares, they’re horrific but not terrifying anymore. I don’t know, I really don’t know what I’m saying.’

‘No. I understand. You’re becoming inured to the visions, it’s like Hugh Crosbie said, you learn to separate yourself from the actual situation and become an observer of it.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far, I mean, I wouldn’t say I was comfortable enough in the situation to sit back and watch. It takes a toll, there’s a physical side.’

‘We should talk to Hugh again, I’m sure he’d be able to put you at ease that all of this is quite normal.’

Valentine spluttered, ‘You’re kidding aren’t you? I’m a grown man, a professional law enforcer, I shouldn’t be seeing ghosties.’

‘Well, if you put it like that.’

‘How else would I put it, Sylvia? I’m overwhelmed by this, it’s playing with my head and my heart’s not up to the strain. The only reason I’m not asking them to lock me up in the loony bin is because I sense that there’s some meaning to all of this, that someone is trying to tell me something that will help solve these murders.’

‘It worked before.’

‘There’s that too.’ The DI turned into a side street and lowered his speed.

‘The blackouts aren’t good though, I worry about your health.’

‘So do I, Sylvia. I wonder about the consequences, not for me but for Clare and the girls. Can you imagine the fall-out for them if it got out? That’s not my biggest concern right now though …’

‘What’s that then?’

‘Back there, in the gents, I’m not sure what Harris saw.’

‘Do you think he saw anything incriminating?’

‘I don’t know. I was out spark-cold. But if he did see something, I’m sure he won’t be long in bringing it to my attention.’

‘Or someone else’s, that would be the real worry, Bob.’

‘Yes, someone like Dino. She’s putting up with me leading the investigation at the moment but I don’t kid myself that it’s because she thinks I’m the best man for the job. It would be all too easy for her to park me on psych leave for a while and then you’d all be dancing to Harris’s tune.’

‘Surely he wouldn’t say anything, I mean, it’s his word against yours.’

‘And in that situation it comes down to who Dino has the most faith in. At the moment her faith in me is minimal.’

‘Flash Harris doesn’t have the best clear-up rate in the division, I can’t see him holding any more sway with the chief super than you or anyone else. And there’s the fact that this robbery is still unsolved …’

‘There is that, but the robbery is our responsibility now, and once Harris familiarises himself with the two unsolved murders we have on our books then the robbery is going to play to his advantage with Dino – he’ll have a running start. It’s not looking good, Sylvia, any way you dice it.’

They’d reached the Whitletts home of Kyle Brogan. Valentine started to brake, in time to hear the street debris crunching under the car’s tyres; stilled the engine and released his seatbelt.

McCormack retrieved her bag from the footwell and opened her door, said, ‘So, what did this Bert guy tell you?’

Valentine walked around the vehicle, stopped when he faced her. ‘The first time, something about finding the soldier. Today, in the gents, it wasn’t so much what he said but what he showed me.’

‘And what was that?’

The DI looked away, he was gripping the car keys in his fist as he stared into the middle distance. ‘It was a sad-looking young girl, with a bullet in her head.’

39

DI Bob Valentine led the march up the path towards Kyle Brogan’s home. The boxy council flats were surrounded by an assortment of broken children’s toys, burst bin bags and rusting engine parts. A mattress from a single bed, that had been set on fire at some stage, was being used as a trampoline by a group of kids. One of the children, a boy in ripped trackies and a Rangers top, saluted the officers with a V-sign and sparked a spate of mimicry from the others.

‘Little charmers,’ said DS McCormack.

‘You should acquaint yourself with them now, sure you’ll be taking their details down the station in a few years.’

‘Sooner for some of them, I’m sure.’