The water was a comfort, eased his rising temperature but failed to shake him from the moment. As Valentine straightened himself before the mirror his vision blurred then receded into darkness. As his sight returned he was holding tight to the skin, staring into the mirror at an image of a face he knew wasn’t his. Somewhat higher than his right shoulder stood Bert McCrindle, fully suited in khaki, a cap perched at an angle above one eye.

‘It’s not right, son,’ he said.

‘What?’

Bert turned to the side, peered through Valentine. As the detective followed his gaze he saw another figure had joined them. At his left shoulder, in the mirror, was a young girl, she had black hair pulled tightly from her face. Although dark-skinned she looked pale, far too pale.

Bert spoke again. ‘It’s not right, son. They buried that girl in a shallow grave.’

‘Who is she?’

As he stared at the girl in the mirror she turned to face Bert. She smiled, almost a bow, but Valentine’s gaze was drawn to the small hole in her temple, a little black point the size of a fingertip that oozed a line of dark blood.

‘Not right to treat another human life like that, son,’ said Bert.

The detective took his gaze from the girl and returned to Bert, as he did so, his blood surged and the strip lights burned hard and bright in his eyes. The intensity lasted only a few seconds before the blackness took over.

‘Bob … Bob … Are you OK?’ A new voice, familiar this time.

‘Where am I?’

DS Donnelly came into focus, leaned down towards Valentine. ‘You’re in your office, here get this down you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Just water. You’ve had a tumble, Eddy there found you on the floor of the gents.’

DS McCormack started to press a cold can of Coke into his forehead. ‘I don’t think you’ve any injuries, there’s no blood or bruising.’

‘Lucky you never whacked your head off the sink,’ said DS Harris. ‘Luckier yet I found you when I did, you could have been there all day.’

Valentine pushed away the can of Coke. ‘I’m grateful for your weak bladder, Eddy.’ He waved away the assembled crowd. ‘Look can you all get back to work, I’ve passed out, it happens, now get over it.’

‘I think you should go home, take the rest of the day off, sir,’ said McCormack.

‘That’ll be right. I’m fine, just been overdoing it lately, not had much sleep.’

Donnelly turned to McAlister and winked.

‘I bloody saw that, Phil.’

‘Sorry, boss. Just being funny.’

‘Just being a dick you mean.’

‘That’s it, that’s what I meant.’

Valentine pushed away his chair and stood up, he took a mouthful of water and followed it with two deep breaths. ‘It’s roasting in here …’

‘I’ll get the window open,’ said McCormack.

‘Wait, what was it you were going to say, when you stopped me on the way out earlier?’

‘Oh, right, just that I ran the Meat Hangers staff through the database and we have a repeat offender, string of convictions for battery and a nice GBH cherry on top.’

Valentine put down the cup, reached over his desk to retrieve his jacket. ‘Right, get moving. We’re going to pay this one a visit … name?’

‘Brogan, sir … Kyle Brogan and he stays in the same part of town as Tulloch did.’

‘Another trip to the badlands. Hope you like the sound of banjos, Sylvia.’

DS Donnelly stepped forward. ‘What about us, boss? Do you want us to get onto Major Tom?’

‘You’re kidding aren’t you? He’d eat you alive. No, you leave that to me, I’ll talk to the chief super when I get back. We need to approach this carefully, the military have a love affair with the Official Secrets Act and if we go in boots first then we’ll likely come out that way too.’

‘Shall I update the super?’

‘No, leave her to me as well. I’ll take care of that personally. I want to know how she’s going to approach it but I also want to see her eyes when I confirm for her that she’s been had by her new Major buddy.’

DS Donnelly started to fiddle with the collar of his shirt. ‘But what if Dino comes in sniffing around, if I hold this back then surely that’s putting us in her bad books again.’

‘I’m never out of her bad books and the way this case is going there’ll be a few more joining me before long. I want you and Ally to get onto the boffins and chase a full report on the Paton kid, what can they tell us about how he died and if there’s any useful forensics on him, preferably not his own.’ Valentine turned away from Donnelly and faced DI Harris. ‘Eddy, welcome on board. I’m sorry it wasn’t in more auspicious circumstances but now we do have you, I’ll be putting you to use right away. I want you to get onto the school, Belmont, and get names of all Niall Paton and Jade Millar’s main associates. I also want to talk to any teachers that they shared and get hold of any others that clocked unusual behaviour from the pair of them in recent weeks. Likewise sports clubs and whatever else kids go in for. Oh, and GPs, and anywhere else they were attending like therapists or what have you, talk to them. I want insights, draw up their profiles.’

‘Christ, that’s a tall order, anything else whilst I’m at it?’ snapped Harris. ‘I could shove a broom up my arse and sweep the stairs too, I suppose.’

‘There will definitely be more, Eddy, I just haven’t thought of it yet.’

38

In the car DS McCormack started her questioning the second the doors had closed. Her face, tight in the jaw, inferred anger but there were other emotions playing in her cracking voice. ‘What the hell was that?’ she said.

‘I don’t know.’ Valentine’s reply sounded meek. ‘Trust me, Sylvia, if I did, I’d let you know chapter and verse.’

‘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.’