Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(13)

‘What’s going to happen now, Sarge?’

‘For whatever reason, Davidson’s not prepared to reopen the case at the moment. He wants us to do some groundwork first. He’s asked me to find out everything I can about Carmichael. He wants an update on Carmichael’s life. He wants to know what he’s been doing for thirteen years and he wants to know if there’s any dirt that people didn’t feel they should dish up at the time but will now.’ Ebony stopped eating, her eyes widened. ‘Yeah . . . I know,’ said Carter. He pushed the file across to her. She began looking at the handwritten notes of the first officer to respond to Carmichael’s call:

17 May 1998

Arrived at Rose Cottage 11.35 a.m., responding to call from Inspector Callum Carmichael. Inspector Carmichael is present at scene. He appears to be in a confused state and is saying very little. He is showing signs of having handled the bodies. He has blood on his clothing. Three bodies: two women and a female child. There is a male infant alive upstairs, who appears to be sedated.

The first body is that of Christine Newton. She has been cut open down the length of her torso.





Ebony looked at the photos: Chrissie Newton’s naked body was on the floor in the lounge. She was lying on her back, her arms loose at her sides. Her head turned to one side. The whole of her torso was opened up like a butchered pig.

Carter reached over and closed the file as someone walked past their table.

‘Read it later. Davidson wants us to go to Yorkshire and talk to Carmichael. We’ll catch a train up there tomorrow and get a car left for us at the station. He lives in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales; it will take us too long to drive the whole way. In the meantime talk to everyone you can about him.’

‘Did Davidson say how he thinks Carmichael could have carried it out, Sarge?’

‘It was a toss-up between money he stood to gain and PTSD. Carmichael had served in the SBS. He had seen action in Iraq. He had been part of Special Forces. Davidson says he was diagnosed with mood swings. He said he could have gone into military mode and gone berserk.’

‘PTSD isn’t a bad mood.’

‘Exactly – it’s a mental disorder where people can kill and not remember. Or they choose to see it another way. This is all according to Davidson and Harding, who was the pathologist at that time. Basically, this is the last thing Davidson wants six months away from retirement. He wants us to go and see Carmichael, talk to him, tell him just enough to see if he has anything useful for us and ask him if he wants to add anything to his original statement; he must have thought things over in all these years. But the main thing is, Davidson wants him contained. If he plays nice we’ll keep him informed; throw him the odd stick to retrieve and pat his head when he does. Go with Harding this morning to Rose Cottage where the Carmichael murders happened. Ask her to fill you in on the background. She did the autopsies that day. According to Robbo she was over-friendly with Davidson at one time.’ Carter smiled. ‘It’s going to kill Davidson if he has to reopen the case. Bet he never thought he’d see this resurface. But you know what they say, Ebb. Shit sticks and bodies float.’

Davidson went to the bathroom next to his office and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Today he had on a deep blue shirt and a darker blue jacket. Grey trousers with a permanent crease. His wife Barbara bought his clothes, but he never thanked her for doing it. Their marriage had lost any ember of excitement. He had long since stopped trying to make her feel treasured or even wanted. Divorce was out of the question. He’d be damned if he’d hand over half of everything. Not at this stage in his life. Barbara could carry on enjoying her benefits as she’d always done. She’d always been happy to take a back seat. He’d worked hard to court business acquaintances outside the Force. Davidson promised himself a life again when he retired. He had a few interesting offers: big corporations that wanted him on their board. He would be travelling a lot, he would be flying first class, staying in top hotels, Barbara wouldn’t want to come. If things had worked out well in the Carmichael case then Davidson wouldn’t have had to work at all after the Police Force. He’d be Commissioner by now and retire on a massive pension. As it was, if things went badly again he would be lucky to get a job delivering groceries after he retired. The thought made him sweat. He splashed cold water onto his face then stood looking at himself in the mirror. Small beads of water still dripped from his sallow skin. Okay . . . he’d made mistakes. Just six months until he could retire, for Christ’s sake. But why now did he have to find himself back in the nightmare with Callum Carmichael?

Harding came into the bathroom. She came to stand next to him. The fact they had once slept together gave them a familiarity with each other.

‘Barbara still buying your shirts?’

He turned away, pulled down a paper towel and wiped his face, small precise dabs then went back into his office; she followed. He felt a flash of anger. Once more she had overstepped the mark. Once more he felt the urge to see her naked.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to Rose Cottage this morning?’ He sat down behind his desk.

‘Yes. The owners are sending over a key. Apparently the place has hardly been touched in all these years.’

He stared at her. She knew he wasn’t really listening to her. He was white with rage. She didn’t flinch.