Perfect Dead: A gripping crime thriller that will keep you hooked

‘They’re coming! I can see them in the distance.’

They both scrambled to their feet and waved at the procession of bodies marching determinedly in single file towards them. As the group got closer they could see that there was an army officer leading the two SOCOs, Phil Tait and Janet White, followed by the two Kirkcudbright officers, DS Byers and another army officer bringing up the rear.

As the army officers advanced, with their military bearing very much in evidence, Farrell had to fight the urge to stiffen to attention. He could hear a stifled giggle from McLeod and shot her a quelling glare, which if anything seemed to make her worse.

The leading officer approached Farrell with an outstretched hand. He had been half expecting him to salute.

‘Lieutenant Benjamin Wood, at your service,’ he said.

‘DI Farrell, and DC McLeod,’ answered Farrell. ‘Sorry to drag you all the way here. How did you get down so quickly?’

‘We were at a training course nearby.’

‘What about the risk of unexploded ordnance, Lieutenant?’ Farrell asked.

DS Byers looked worried. Nobody had filled him in then. Mind you, if he ran true to form he would be more concerned about ruining his expensive shoes than getting blown up.

‘Is this part we’re in at the moment safe?’ asked Byers.

‘As far as we know,’ the lieutenant replied. ‘Shells can veer dramatically off course. Don’t touch any suspicious objects, look where you’re placing your feet, and you should be fine.’

‘I’m going up there now with SOCO and, once they’ve done the necessary, the remains can be removed to the morgue at Dumfries and Galloway Royal Infirmary,’ said Farrell. ‘I’m afraid we won’t know much until the pathologist has carried out an analysis and we’ve obtained the results of the lab tests, soil samples etcetera.’

He returned up the hill with Phil and Janet, shrouded in their white plastic overalls and shoe covers. From past experience he didn’t dare to offer to lug Janet’s heavy kit bag for her. The scathing retort the first time he had tried had been enough. She might be small but she must pack some muscle.

He pointed out the salient features of the scene then carefully retraced his steps, leaving the SOCOs to carry on with their work unimpeded. By the time he reached the small group, he saw that relations had thawed to the extent that the younger of the two military men was passing his card to Mhairi. Byers looked like a thundercloud. Farrell wished he could just move on. It was never going to happen.

‘Any further forward, sir?’ Byers asked.

‘Not really, there are markings in the ground that might suggest someone was up there recently.’

‘DS Byers, can you wait here, along with the two local officers, and manage the scene until the remains are removed? DC McLeod and I need to get back to Dumfries and take stock in relation to where we are with the other investigation.’

Byers nodded. Farrell might not like the man but he was efficient and thorough when called upon. Solid backup, unlike DS Stirling, who wouldn’t blow his own nose without a risk assessment.

As they returned to the car, at a brisk pace, Mhairi looked at the gadget on her wrist and announced: ‘That’s me done 20,000 steps so far. Not bad, eh?’

‘I refuse to be drawn in to this insanity,’ said Farrell.

‘You should get one, sir. After all, we do have to be able to catch criminals, don’t we?’

‘Usually, using our minds rather than our bodies, but I could still leave you standing, DC McLeod, so don’t get too cocky.’

Chapter Seventeen (#ulink_b1db034d-1d80-52cf-bbca-e877a6874d7b)

Lind pulled into his driveway and turned off the ignition, leaning his head back against the headrest. He lowered the window and sucked in a lungful of freezing air as if it could push out the blackness that was threatening to engulf him. He couldn’t give in. He had to stay strong for his family. Laura had pulled far away from him and he was at a loss as to how to fix things between them. The stars twinkled remotely, indifferent to his problems.

Sighing, he climbed out of the car, the frosty air stiffening his bones. Hiding out here would solve nothing. Straightening his shoulders, he pasted on a smile in readiness and tried to inject some energy into his steps as he let himself in. The silence was unusual this early. He went into the living room.

DI Moore was sitting on the sofa with his youngest child, Adam, cuddled into her. He was fast asleep. Not for the first time he noticed how comfortable she was around children and thought she would make a wonderful mother. She was reading her Kindle and looked up and smiled as he entered, holding a finger to her lips.

‘He wouldn’t settle,’ she whispered. ‘He was wanting his mum. I’ve only just got him off.’

After he had taken his sleepy son from her and tucked him in to his cot without protest, he returned downstairs.

DI Moore was putting on her jacket.

‘Sorry, I kept you longer than I said, Kate. I thought Laura would have been home by now. I should have checked. Did she phone?’

‘Sorry, no. I expect she was caught up in something and didn’t notice the time,’ she said, ever the diplomat.

‘Kids behave themselves?’

‘We had great fun,’ she said, looking like she meant it. ‘It was a pleasure, John, honestly!’

He imagined coming home to her calm tranquillity every night and pushed the thought away before it had time to take hold. What was wrong with him tonight?

‘Things are certainly hotting up at work,’ she said, as she was leaving.

‘So it would seem. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a very long day,’ said Lind.

He checked in on the kids and found them all fast asleep. Molly was the spitting image of Laura, with her long dark curls spilling over the pillow. However, she wasn’t a tomboy like her mother had been when they were growing up; she was a quiet bookish child who took her role as big sister very seriously. He removed the book from her bed and carefully saved the page, before putting it on her bedside table.

His four-year-old twins, Luke and Hugh, were sprawled in their bunk beds. Since the events of last year they had ceased to dress alike. Their matching duvet covers had gone. Lind felt sad that even that innocent pleasure had been taken from them.

Finally, he looked in on Adam, who was still fast asleep in his cot. Satisfied, he went back downstairs. A murder and the remains of a body all within the space of a few days. Nothing to link them, but it was Kirkcudbright, for goodness’ sake! This was far from normal. There was also a forgery ring running out of there, if intelligence was to be believed. Much would depend on the identity of the bones as to how things went from here. He had a bad feeling about it all that he couldn’t shake. It didn’t help that he knew nothing whatsoever about art. Unless it was a nice watercolour, he was completely at a loss. Fortunately, DI Moore had a fair grasp of the subject. The house felt even emptier now she was gone. Where on earth was Laura?

He decided not to wait up as he knew from recent experience that she was likely to come in spoiling for a fight. He fought the temptation to crack open a couple of beers and took himself off to bed even though it wasn’t yet ten. Things would seem better in the morning.

The sound of laughter woke him. He glanced at his watch and saw it was after three. Laura was clearly drunk, and she had company. This just wasn’t on. If he didn’t get them to call time now, next thing the kids would be awake and it would be a wailing match all round.

He entered the living room and stopped short. Laura was dressed to kill in an electric blue dress he had never seen before, but the make-up had slid off her face giving her a clownish appearance. She was absolutely steaming. There was no point in having it out with her now. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the brassy blonde sitting sprawled beside her on the couch, legs akimbo, her short skirt leaving little to the imagination.

‘Get a good look, did you?’ she said, catching his gaze, giving him a nasty stare.

This woman was trouble. He had met her type before. And now Laura, his gentle sweet wife, was in thrall to this creature. He stifled his rage and said as mildly as he could manage: ‘Laura, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?’

‘Her name’s Selena,’ she muttered, as if to say it wasn’t really any of his business. Well, tough, he was going to make it his business. If she wasn’t prepared to fight for their marriage he would have to fight hard enough for both of them.

‘My name’s John,’ he said, forcing Selena to take his outstretched hand. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch your second name?’ He leaned towards her, trying not to wince at the stink of stale alcohol and fags on her breath.

‘MacRae,’ she said, now looking wary and sitting up straighter.

‘Well, Selena, can I offer you a cup of coffee?’ he said pleasantly, but she caught the hint of steel in his eyes and stood up, gathering her coat and bag.

‘No thanks, time I hit the road. I’ll see you, pal,’ she said dropping a kiss on the top of Laura’s head on the way out.