‘Right. Let’s get back to the station and run those through the national computer. If there’s a name on there with a record we might be lucky.’

‘We haven’t been so far.’

‘Well that has to change some time, Sylvia.’

35

Darry Millar sought out the bar by following a faded tartan carpet that was held together by spillage stains. The yellowing woodchip on the walls was scuffed and scarred but looked fresh compared to the original dado rail, a sallow shade of yellow that might once have been magnolia. Above the door it had said guest house but he knew it wasn’t an accurate description: they wouldn’t get away with doss house, though. At the bar – which smelled of damp raincoats and cheap whisky – he removed a ten-pound note from the pocket of his jeans and placed it on a sodden bar-towel.

‘What can I get you?’ The barman stooped as he spoke.

‘A pint, please.’

‘Heavy?’

‘Yeah, that’ll do.’

There was a television playing in the corner of the room, it was the news but he’d missed the headlines, they were onto the sports preview now. The barman stared, half-hypnotised, at the screen but managed to turn off the tap as the pint glass filled.

‘Anything else?’

‘Erm, yeah, any food on the go?’

A huff. ‘We do lunches, but the kitchen’s shut now.’

‘What about a sandwich or something?’

‘There’s a garage up the road might have something. I can do crisps.’

Darry handed over his money and asked for two bags of crisps. It wasn’t much but he’d have to take something back to Jade. As the barman returned Darry was sipping his pint, the taste soured as he caught sight of a familiar face on the television screen.

‘Turn that up!’

The barman pointed a remote control at the corner of the room. The speakers crackled as the volume increased.

‘The body of a young Ayrshire man was found in a shallow grave near Cumnock today …’

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Darry.

‘You know this lad?’

He looked at the barman. ‘No. No I don’t. Just seems awful though. I mean, not a nice way to go.’

‘There’s no nice ways, son.’

He raised his pint, changed tack. ‘There’s the drink.’

As the barman walked away, returned to his seat at the other side of the till, Darry listened to the rest of the broadcast.

‘Niall Paton, a pupil of Belmont Academy in Ayr, was sixteen years old. Police say they are treating the death as suspicious and following a definite line of inquiry.’

Darry couldn’t finish his pint, he took the crisps and returned to the room where Jade was waiting. As he opened the door she had her mobile phone to her ear but switched it off immediately.

‘Who was that?’

‘Nobody. I mean, I was just checking my credit.’ She put the phone in her pocket. ‘Did you get anything to eat?’

Darry put the crisps on the bed. ‘Look, I think you should sit down.’

‘What?’

‘Sit down, Jade. I’ve got something to tell you.’

She was rustling the crisp bags, opening them up and stuffing the contents in her mouth. ‘Well, what is it?’

Darry went to sit beside her on the bed. His throat grew stiff, the words too difficult to form in his mouth. He sat silently, staring at the hands in his lap.

‘I thought you had something to say,’ said Jade.

‘They killed Niall.’ He blurted the words.

‘What did you say?’

‘The news, it was just on downstairs. They found Niall in Cumnock, he’d been murdered.’

Jade dropped the crisps on the bed, for a moment she looked to have misheard, but the reaction was merely delayed. She spun around and fell on the pillows, sobbing.

‘I’m sorry, Jade.’

‘You didn’t even know him.’

‘I didn’t have to. It’s tragic. He was just a boy.’

Jade turned around. ‘He had nothing to do with any of this.’

‘I know.’

‘How can you feel sorry for him? How?’ Darry leant over to reassure his sister, she pushed his comforting hand away. ‘You didn’t even know him. You’d only just met him.’

‘I know, Jade, but he was looking after you, he was going to stand by you whatever.’

‘He wasn’t the father.’

‘What did you say?’

She sat up on the bed, wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘He was an idiot.’

‘Don’t say that, Jade. He was doing the right thing by you.’

‘He was a bloody idiot. And I was just using him, we only had sex after I found out I was pregnant.’

Darry’s imagination lit up, he didn’t want to consider the options if Niall wasn’t the father. ‘Jade, stop it.’

‘No. He should never have got involved with me, this is what happens to everyone who gets involved with me. Whether they like it or not they end up dead or their lives ruined, even Dad, even you soon if you’re not careful.’

Darry turned to face his sister, grabbed her by the shoulders and started to shake her. ‘Shut up, now. Do you hear me? I want you to stop that talk, it’s nonsense and you need to think about more than yourself now.’

Jade dropped her head and fell into Darry’s arms. ‘I can’t go on like this much longer.’

‘You won’t have to.’

‘We can’t keep running and hiding, we’re going to run out of money soon. I can’t keep this baby, I can’t!’

‘As soon as I get hold of Fin we’ll get things sorted. If he’d just answer his bloody phone.’

‘Fin can’t sort anything. He can’t get Mum away from the police.’

Darry pulled his hands away, tapped his temple. ‘Mum’s not herself, that’s why she’s in hospital, Jade. Whether the police were there or not, we couldn’t just take her away. She needs help, she’s ill.’

Jade started to cry again. ‘That’s my fault too. It’s all my fault.’

‘No, it’s not. I told you, I don’t want you to think like that.’

‘No. I mean it. You need to rest, get some sleep.’

Jade curled into a ball on the bed and Darry helped her off with her jacket. She cried and shook where she lay and in a few moments she was sleeping, exhausted, but the torments of earlier a long distance away.

Darry sat and stared at his sister on the bed: what was he going to do? There were no easy answers. Tulloch was dead, that was all that mattered. He was worried about his mother, but she would be better in the long run. She had seen Tulloch for what he was, and now she was free of him. Even if the police wanted to blame her, even if she was to blame, there was no way she could really be held responsible in her state of mind. It was all so messed up, there were no answers anymore. All he knew was that he had to get Jade away, and fast. He needed to find somewhere where they could work out what their next move was going to be because if the police found them now they would be split up and she’d be on her own. She had no one else. He couldn’t let her down too.

As Darry reclined in the armchair, covered himself with Jade’s coat, he felt her phone sitting in the inside pocket. He took it out, stared at the screen. He’d seen her talking to someone when he came in and he wanted to know who it was. He called up the last number, it was a mobile, but he didn’t recognise the number.

Darry pressed dial.

The line started to ring.

‘Hello, Jade … what happened?’

He knew the voice at once. ‘… Finnie.’

36

The incident room was buzzing when Valentine and McCormack returned. Most of the team were drinking coffee from tall Costa cups; by the number of discarded plastic containers littering the desktops it looked like a sandwich run had also been completed recently. The detectives moved towards the incident board and Valentine checked for any updates. The photographs of Niall Paton had been added, the extant one and the more recent images from the crime scene.

‘Looks like a good working over,’ said McCormack.