VAL McDERMID
A
Darker
Domain
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the memory of Meg and Tom McCall, my maternal grandparents. They showed me love, they taught me about community, and they never forgot the shame of standing in line at a soup kitchen to feed their bairns. Thanks to them, I grew up loving the sea, the woods and the work of Agatha Christie. No small debt.
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Wednesday 23rd January 1985; Newton of Wemyss
Wednesday 27th June 2007; Glenrothes
Tuesday 19th June 2007; Edinburgh
Wednesday 27th June 2007; Glenrothes
Thursday 21st June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Wednesday 27th June 2007; Glenrothes
Monday 25th June 2007; Edinburgh
Wednesday 27th June 2007; Glenrothes
Thursday 28th June 2007; Edinburgh
Monday 18th June 2007; Campora, Tuscany, Italy.
Thursday 28th June 2007; Edinburgh
Thursday 28th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Friday 14th December 1984; Newton of Wemyss
Thursday 28th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Friday 14th December 1984; Newton of Wemyss
Thursday 28th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Saturday 15th December 1984; Newton of Wemyss
Thursday 28th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Glenrothes
Rotheswell Castle
Wednesday 13th December 1978; Rotheswell Castle
Thursday 28th June 2007; Rotheswell Castle
Glenrothes
Kirkcaldy
Sunday 2nd December 1984; Wemyss Woods
Thursday 28th June 2007; Kirkcaldy
Friday 29th June 2007; Nottingham
Friday 14th December 1984
Friday 29th June 2007
Rotheswell Castle
Saturday 19th January 1985
Dysart, Fife
Friday 29th June 2007; Rotheswell Castle
Nottingham
Thursday 30th November 1984; Dysart
Friday 29th June 2007; Glenrothes
Saturday 30th June 2007; East Wemyss
Newton of Wemyss
Kirkcaldy
Rotheswell Castle
Monday 21st January 1985; Rotheswell Castle
Saturday 30th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Friday 23rd January 1987; Eilean Dearg
Saturday 30th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Wednesday 23rd January 1985; Rotheswell Castle
Saturday 30th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Sunday 1st July 2007; East Wemyss
Monday 2nd July 2007; Glenrothes
Campora, Tuscany
Peterhead, Scotland
Monday 21st January 1985; Kirkcaldy
Monday 2nd July 2007; Peterhead
Wednesday 23rd January 1985; Newton of Wemyss
Monday 2nd July 2007; Peterhead
Campora, Tuscany
East Wemyss, Fife
Campora, Tuscany
Kirkcaldy
Boscolata
East Wemyss
Tuesday 3rd July 2007; Glenrothes
San Gimignano
Coaltown of Wemyss
San Gimignano
Edinburgh
Campora
Wednesday 4th July 2007; East Wemyss
Rotheswell Castle
Glenrothes
Hoxton, London
Dundee
Siena
Glenrothes
Edinburgh Airport to Rotheswell Castle
Thursday 5th July 2007; Kirkcaldy
Sunday 14th August 1983; Newton of Wemyss
Thursday, 5th July 2007
Glenrothes
Rotheswell Castle
Kirkcaldy
Celadoria, near Greve in Chianti
Thursday 26th April 2007; Villa Totti, Tuscany
Thursday 5th July 2007; Celadoria, near Greve in Chianti
Kirkcaldy
Boscolata, Tuscany
Friday 6th July 2007; Kirkcaldy
A1, Firenze-Milano
Rotheswell Castle
Friday 13th July 2007; Glenrothes
Wednesday 18th July 2007
Thursday 19th July 2007; Newton of Wemyss
Keep Reading
Acknowledgements
About the Author
By the Same Author
About the Publisher
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2008
Copyright © Val McDermid 2008
Val McDermid asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins ebooks
HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication
Source ISBN: 9780007243297
Ebook edition © SEPTEMBER 2008 ISBN: 9780007287451
Version: 2019-10-10
Wednesday 23rd January 1985; Newton of Wemyss
The voice is soft, like the darkness that encloses them. You ready?
As ready as Ill ever be.
Youve told her what to do? Words tumbling now, tripping over each other, a single stumble of sounds.
Dont worry. She knows whats what. Shes under no illusions about whos going to carry the can if this goes wrong. Sharp words, sharp tone. Shes not the one Im worrying about.
Whats that supposed to mean?
Nothing. It means nothing, all right? Weve no choices. Not here. Not now. We just do what has to be done. The words have the hollow ring of bravado. Its anybodys guess what theyre hiding. Come on, lets get it done with.
This is how it begins.
Wednesday 27th June 2007; Glenrothes
The young woman strode across the foyer, low heels striking a rhythmic tattoo on vinyl flooring dulled by the passage of thousands of feet. She looked like someone on a mission, the civilian clerk thought as she approached his desk. But then, most of them did. The crime prevention and public information posters that lined the walls were invariably wasted on them as they approached, lost in the slipstream of their determination.
She bore down on him, her mouth set in a firm line. Not bad looking, he thought. But like a lot of the women who pitched up here, she wasnt exactly looking her best. She could have done with a bit more make-up, to make the most of those sparky blue eyes. And something more flattering than jeans and a hoodie. Dave Cruickshank assumed his fixed professional smile. How can I help you? he said.
The woman tilted her head back slightly, as if readying herself for defence. I want to report a missing person.
Dave tried not to show his weary irritation. If it wasnt neighbours from hell, it was so-called missing persons. This one was too calm for it to be a missing toddler, too young for it to be a runaway teenager. A row with the boyfriend, thats what it would be. Or a senile granddad on the lam. The usual bloody waste of time. He dragged a pad of forms across the counter, squaring it in front of him and reaching for a pen. He kept the cap on; there was one key question he needed answered before hed be taking down any details. And how long has this person been missing?
Twenty-two and a half years. Since Friday the fourteenth of December 1984, to be precise. Her chin came down and truculence clouded her features. Is that long enough for you to take it seriously?
Detective Sergeant Phil Parhatka watched the end of the video clip then closed the window. I tell you, he said, if ever there was a great time to be in cold cases, this is it.
Detective Inspector Karen Pirie barely raised her eyes from the file she was updating. How?
Stands to reason. Were in the middle of the war on terror. And Ive just watched my local MP taking possession of 10 Downing Street with his missus. He jumped up and crossed to the mini-fridge perched on top of a filing cabinet. What would you rather be doing? Solving cold cases and getting good publicity for it, or trying to make sure the muzzers dinnae blow a hole in the middle of our patch?
You think Gordon Brown becoming Prime Minister makes Fife a target? Karen marked her place in the document with her index finger and gave Phil her full attention. It dawned on her that for too long shed had her head too far in the past to weigh up present possibilities. They never bothered with Tony Blairs constituency when he was in charge.
Very true. Phil peered into the fridge, deliberating between an Irn Bru and a Vimto. Thirty-four years old and still he couldnt wean himself off the soft drinks that had been treats in childhood. But these guys call themselves Islamic jihadists and Gordons a son of the manse. I wouldnt want to be in the Chief Constables shoes if they decide to make a point by blowing up his dads old kirk. He chose the Vimto. Karen shuddered.
I dont know how you can drink that stuff, she said. Have you never noticed its an anagram of vomit?
Phil took a long pull on his way back to his desk. Puts hairs on your chest, he said.
Better make it two cans, then. There was an edge of envy in Karens voice. Phil seemed to live on sugary drinks and saturated fats but he was still as compact and wiry as hed been when they were rookies together. She just had to look at a fully leaded Coke to feel herself gaining inches. It definitely wasnt fair.
Phil narrowed his dark eyes and curled his lip in a good-natured sneer. Whatever. The silver lining is that maybe the boss can screw some more money out of the government if he can persuade them theres an increased threat.
Karen shook her head, on solid ground now. You think that famous moral compass would let Gordon steer his way towards anything that looked that self-serving? As she spoke, she reached for the phone that had just begun to ring. There were other, more junior officers in the big squad room that housed the Cold Case Review Team, but promotion hadnt altered Karens ways. Shed never got out of the habit of answering any phone that rang in her vicinity. CCRT, DI Pirie speaking, she said absently, still turning over what Phil had said, wondering if, deep down, he had a hankering to be where the live action was.
Dave Cruickshank on the front counter, Inspector. Ive got somebody here, I think she needs to talk to you. Cruickshank sounded unsure of himself. That was unusual enough to grab Karens attention.
Whats it about?
Its a missing person, he said.
Is it one of ours?
No, she wants to report a missing person.