Craig Hunter Books 1-3 Page 5

  Hunter lay his pen down and rubbed his eyes, loosening a few sleep crystals with tired fingers. It had been a hard day already, and there were no signs of it getting easier any time soon.

  How long has this really been going on? Up to six years. Look at it one way and you’ve got a predator hunting down a single mother and her young daughter. Playing a long game, getting himself trusted, then abusing that trust.

  ‘What happened to Stephanie’s father?’

  ‘He died when she was a bairn.’ Pauline reached for another tissue. ‘Not long after her eighth birthday.’

  Hunter added it to the timeline. Certainly explained a lot of her behaviour. Both their behaviours. ‘How did you meet Mr Ferguson?’

  ‘Through a friend. I thought he was…’ She sniffled, fingers tightening around a fresh hankie. ‘Thought Doug was a good man. Ran his own business, had a load of mates, seemed nice.’ She balled up her fists, looked ready to strike them down on the table. ‘Didn’t think he’d do this to my Steph. How could he do that to my wee girl? What sort of mother lets that happen?’

  You tell me…

  Hunter let her soak in her melodrama for a few seconds.

  Was it guilt? Shame? How much did she know? The ring of bruises… Complicity was common in these cases. And sometimes turning a blind eye seemed easier than facing up to the truth. Either way, it still didn’t protect those who needed protection.

  ‘Can you take me through the events of lunchtime today, please?’

  The fire in Pauline’s eyes died to a slow ember. ‘Doug’s a painter-decorator, comes home for his lunch most days if he’s working locally. I work at the solicitors in Porty, means I can come home as well.’ She ripped off another Kleenex and honked her nose in it. ‘When I got back today, though, he was shouting through her bedroom door.’

  Hunter looked up at that. ‘Was it locked?’

  ‘Steph was tugging it shut.’ Pauline lifted a shoulder, barely putting any effort into it, and dabbed at her dark eyes. ‘I pulled Doug back from the door and shoved him into the garden, so I could try to calm my daughter down.’ She balled up her hankie and rolled it on the table. ‘Then she let me in her room and… That’s when she told me all about it.’ She gasped out a cry. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  ‘This is going to be hard, but do you honestly believe her?’

  Pauline flicked the tissue away, eyes narrowing to slits. ‘I believe her.’

  ‘Has Stephanie ever lied to you?’

  ‘Which girl doesn’t?’ The fire flared up again. ‘But it’s never anything serious. We’re close, you know? Always tells me what’s going on with her.’

  So close she flinches away from your touch?

  So close she tries to drown you out with music?

  So close she tries to bite doctors trying to help her?

  Hunter held her gaze for a few seconds. Little flickers of doubt appeared in her eyes — they shifted around too fast, blinked maybe a bit too quickly. ‘Okay, so after she told you, what did you do next?’

  ‘I locked him out of the house.’ Pauline narrowed her eyes, like she was reliving the terror. ‘And that’s when he really started kicking up a fuss. Banging on the door, hitting the windows. He even kicked the window in the bloody conservatory. Thought he was going to smash the glass. So I called you lot.’

  Hunter checked the timeline and drew a line under it. There wasn’t much Stephanie’s statement could contradict — it was all from the girl’s perspective. ‘This is definitely the first you knew of it?’

  Pauline’s eyes bulged. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Just answer the question.’

  ‘Course it bloody is.’

  ‘Is there anyone else your daughter could’ve shared this with before she told you?’

  Pauline frowned. ‘No.’

  ‘Sure about that? What about friends from school?’

  ‘Steph doesn’t have many friends. Despite my best efforts, she’s a bit of a recluse.’ Pauline bunched up the latest tissue. The frown deepened, then pulsed. ‘Well, she’s got a boyfriend.’

  ‘We’ll need his name and phone number.’

  ‘His name’s Neil.’ She looked around the floor, as if that’s where his surname was hiding. ‘Alexander, I think. He’s a gentle laddie. Bit too soft, if you ask me. Don’t have a number for him, though.’

  Hunter noted it, his stomach starting to gargle up acid.

  The water was muddying now. Not just an allegedly abusive stepfather, but a boyfriend. Teenage boys were even worse these days, nasty little bastards pressuring girls into the perversions they watched on their laptops and phones.

  ‘Is this boyfriend at school with her?’

  ‘He’s older. Couple of years, I think…’

  Oh no…

  Hunter sighed, then quickly smiled in an attempt to mask his resignation. ‘Is it possible he could’ve been abusing her?’

  ‘Are you not listening to me?’ Pauline almost threw herself across the table, eyes narrow as she reached for his arms. ‘She told me Doug’s been abusing her. Okay? Not Neil. Doug.’

  And you’re not putting words in her mouth, are you?

  Hunter prised her fingers off his arms and sat back. He circled Neil and added a few notes around the name. ‘We’ll speak to him in due course.’

  Or rather, the Sexual Offences unit will…

  His mobile flashed up a text from Finlay. “Doc’s finished.”

  Hunter pocketed his notebook and got up. ‘In the meantime, is there anything else I should know about?’

  ‘Not that I can think of.’ Pauline scrunched up her face and let out a small gasp. ‘Oh, Steph.’

  ‘I know it’s going to be difficult, but I need you to refrain from discussing the exact details with her. Please just focus on reassuring her and being there for her. I’m sure you’re good at that.’

  ‘Aye, aye.’ She pinched her forehead again, letting a snarl crawl up her cheeks. ‘Not good enough, clearly.’

  6

  Finlay was sitting in the chair outside the hospital room, pudgy fingers mangling his phone.

  Hunter stopped and turned to Pauline. ‘Can you wait here for a second?’

  ‘I want to see my daughter.’

  ‘You’ll see her very soon, promise. I just need to verify a few things.’

  ‘Well, I’ll phone my pal.’ Pauline started rummaging around in her handbag.

  Hunter crept up on Finlay from behind, kept it casual, and stopped a metre or so behind him.

  Idiot was playing some stupid game, archer towers firing arrows at orc warlords. Finlay hammered the screen a few times. ‘Come on, you bloody bugg— Oh. Arse.’

  A wave of goblins marched through the gate. “Game over” filled the display.

  Finlay crunched back on the chair, eyes bleary.

  Hunter gave him another second to contemplate the tragic fate of his imaginary friends, then leaned forward and whispered into his ear: ‘Busy?’

  Finlay jumped up, his face flushing a guilty shade of scarlet. He cleared his throat, glancing up and down the corridor. ‘Didn’t see you there, mate.’

  ‘You’re a bloody chancer.’ Hunter thumbed at the door. ‘Did Dr Yule get in there?’

  ‘Aye, all done.’ Finlay plonked himself back down on the seat. ‘She bit Yule this time. Didn’t break the skin. I think.’ He locked his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘Not heard how she got on, mind.’ He got up again and stretched out, then frowned. ‘I’ll go and supervise Mrs Ferguson.’

  Unusual…

  Finlay walked off, passing Pauline who was still speaking into her phone. Movement flashed in the corridor behind her as Lauren clomped along, giving Finlay a nod.

  Terrific. Well, that explains it. Look busy when the boss is around.

  Hunter straightened his back as she approached. Stood to attention, stomach in, chest out, head up, eyes straight ahead. ‘Sarge.’

  ‘Craig.’ Lauren zipped her fleece up and rubbed her hands
together. ‘It’s freezing here.’ She blew into her fist. ‘Good news, though. Buchan’s been onto the Rape Unit in Bathgate. DI McNeill’s taking this off our hands.’

  Fun while it lasted… Well, hardly fun, but certainly meaningful.

  Hunter’s shoulders sagged a few notches. ‘When does he get here?’

  ‘She. And that’s good news, Craig.’ Lauren clamped his shoulder, like she was trying for a sports-jock pump. ‘Means we can get on with what we’re supposed to be doing.’

  ‘Right.’ Hunter shrugged off her hand. Felt like a block of ice. Behind her, Finlay was ushering Pauline into Stephanie’s room. ‘The doc’s finished and I’ve got the mother’s statement.’

  Lauren flicked up her eyebrows. ‘That’s good work, I suppose.’

  ‘You suppose?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ Lauren stopped rubbing her hands together. Her eyes narrowed to fine points. ‘They’re here already.’

  Hunter wheeled around.

  A woman marched down the corridor, sharp steps matching her no-nonsense trouser suit. She was pale and thin, but as toned as she was tall. Could probably handle herself on a Saturday night on Lothian Road. She held out her hand to Lauren. ‘DI Sharon McNeill. Sergeant Reid, is it?’

  Lauren shook the hand. ‘This is PC Hunter.’

  Tempted to give her the old fake Masonic handshake. Gave her a nod instead. ‘Ma’am.’

  McNeill stepped aside to introduce her colleague. An Asian woman with striking cheekbones. Late twenties, at least her outfit said so. Seemed like she knew she was it. She took one look at his uniform and laughed. ‘Craig Hunter, as I live and breathe.’

  Wait, what?

  ‘Chantal Jain?’ Hunter frowned, his heart dancing. ‘Not seen you since Tulliallan.’ He gave her the once over, struggling to hide it. ‘You’ve changed.’

  She smirked at him. ‘You’ve not.’

  McNeill grimaced at Lauren as she patted Jain on the elbow. ‘DS Reid, this is DS Jain.’

  Lauren treated them to a flash of her smile. ‘Well, you’re outranking us.’

  ‘That’s not what I’m about.’ McNeill nodded at the door. ‘The girl in that room?’

  Hunter folded his arms across his chest, tucking his thumbs into his stab-proof vest. ‘She’s back with her mother.’

  Jain flicked up her perfect eyebrows, thin pencil lines, and shot him a cheeky grin. ‘I take it she’s been a bit of a nightmare?’

  ‘I should give up poker…’ Hunter nodded, his forehead creasing up. ‘Not sure what her mother’s game is, but she’s been obstructing attempts at interviewing Stephanie.’

  ‘She’s been checked over, though, right?’ McNeill was tilting her head to the side, her ponytail draping over her shoulder. ‘Standard rape kit, aye?’

  ‘Dr Yule’s just finished. Haven’t got the results back.’

  ‘Okay.’ McNeill nodded at Lauren. ‘Let’s you and me grab a cup of tea and get up to speed.’ Then a nod at Jain. ‘Chantal, can you and PC Hunter here have a word with this doctor?’

  Hunter started off down the corridor, shoes squeaking on the Lino. ‘So the cavalry’s finally arrived, has it?’

  ‘Hardly.’ Again Jain arched an eyebrow, just about keeping pace with him. Her lipstick was a smoky shade of plum. She definitely didn’t look like she should be stuck in a Scottish police station. Or chatting to an idiot in a hospital. ‘Standard protocol and all that. You respond, we mop up.’

  ‘Mop up, eh?’ Hunter stopped outside Yule’s door. Her voice droned through the wood.

  ‘You know what I mean.’ Jain caught his look and buttoned up her suit jacket. ‘How’s it going, Craig? Not seen you in years.’

  ‘I’m doing … okay, I guess.’ Hunter bit down the anger. ‘You seem to be doing well for yourself. Hardly recognised you.’

  ‘The hair or the make-up?’

  ‘Both, probably.’ Hunter kept his gaze off her. ‘So, Sarge, do you want to lead or…?’

  Jain knocked on the office door and entered without waiting for a response.

  Dr Yule sat in her office chair, twirling a pen in her thin fingers, phone handset clamped between her ear and shoulder. She gazed at Jain, then held up a single finger to Hunter and went back to her call, turning her back to both of them. ‘And what do you expect me to do about it?’

  Hunter took a seat in front of the desk and waited for Jain to join him.

  She got out her notebook and an expensive-looking pen, black with brass finishes. ‘I thought you were in CID?’

  ‘I was.’ Hunter let out a sigh. Tried to catch it before it escaped. ‘DI Davenport at St Leonard’s for a few years.’

  ‘I was in Leith Walk. Wilkinson then Methven.’ She brushed a hand over his uniform. ‘When did you get this fetching number?’

  ‘Couple of years now.’ Hunter’s thigh tingled where she’d stroked it. His mouth was dry as a Basra June. ‘When they shuffled the deckchairs.’

  ‘I got shunted onto the MIT. Worked with Sharon’s … DI McNeill’s other half for a bit. Nightmare.’

  ‘Not to be recommended?’

  She smirked at him and started nodding. ‘Thinking of getting back into proper police work?’

  ‘Just want to do something important, you know me.’

  ‘Have a word with a few people before you apply for anything. A … pal of mine got stuck as Acting DC for a couple of years.’

  ‘Brutal. What’s his—’

  Yule slammed the phone down and sat scowling at it for a few seconds. ‘Bloody registrars think they’re more important than front-line doctors…’ She shook her head and nudged her glasses up her nose. ‘Now, how can I help you?’

  ‘This is DS Chantal Jain from the Sexual Offences Unit. They’ll be taking over this case from us.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Yule looked at Jain with an even expression, no emotion in it. ‘I hope that means I can stop listening to that dreadful woman’s moaning.’ She tilted her head slightly. ‘Do you know she was trying to raise an official complaint? Said her daughter might catch MRSA—’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Frightful woman.’ Yule stared up at the ceiling, then down again. ‘Can Sister get the bed back?’

  ‘If you’ve finished the tests, I don’t really care what you do with it.’ Hunter opened his notebook. ‘So, have you?’

  Yule opened a paper file on her desk, a temple form covered in hieroglyphics. ‘Sadly, young Miss Ferguson has no traces of semen.’

  Jain glowered over at Hunter. ‘Sadly?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’ Yule raised a knobbly finger, barely any fat on it. Teeth marks dug in around the knuckle. ‘But I did find what I’d suggest are tell-tale signs of abuse. Bruising on her arms and legs. And I’d say the girl’s … demeanour shows severe mental trauma. Not to mention her weight. Definite candidate for anorexia. And I know there can be multiple causes…’

  Hunter was struggling to scribble it all down.

  Jain glared at the doctor. ‘So we’ve got no evidence the stepfather has been abusing her?’

  ‘That ship has sailed, I’m afraid.’ Yule raised a shoulder. ‘No way to tell without a positive on the rape kit. Though there are deformations in her vagina consistent with intercourse.’

  Jain’s smile was as quick as it was triumphant. ‘That sounds a lot like evidence.’

  Hold your horses…

  Hunter let out a groan. ‘She’s got a boyfriend.’

  ‘Oh, sweet Jesus…’ Jain shut her notebook and folded her arms. ‘I thought Stephanie told her mother he’d been doing this to her for a while?’

  Hunter nodded. ‘Probably since she was fifteen.’

  ‘Well, that’s certainly consistent with what I’m seeing here.’ Yule rummaged through the report on her desk. ‘But, the sad fact is, there’s just no way of knowing who’s been abusing her. Or even if it was abuse. The secondary bruising could be from school bullying, say.’

  Or it could be from her stepfather
holding her down on a bed and raping her.

  ‘Anyway, Constable, I’m finished with her.’ Yule held out her hand. ‘She bit me, can you see?’

  Jain sat back, nodding as she reopened her notebook. ‘Is it worth checking the stepfather for bite marks?’

  Yule clicked her tongue as she thought it through. ‘That’s not a bad idea. Better still, the duty doctor at whichever station you’re based in would be able to perform that test. I can, of course, validate the outcome.’

  ‘Appreciate it.’ Jain produced a business card from a flap at the back of her notebook. ‘Okay, can you send the report through to me? I’m sure I’ll have a lot of follow-up questions.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it.’

  7

  ‘—and, for a stepfather, it’s a Schedule 1 Offence if she’s under twenty-one. She’s sixteen.’ Hunter held open the door and let Jain head through first. ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘I’ve not even seen the girl, so how can I say anything?’ Jain sashayed through the door, her short heels clicking off the floor and echoing around the bare walls. ‘What do we know about this boyfriend?’

  ‘Mother says he’s older. Got the impression it was more than a couple of years.’

  ‘Interesting. So he could be the one abusing her?’

  ‘Could be. Or nobody could be.’

  Jain stopped in the corridor outside a room with a pair of women hugging and crying. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What if the … deformations are from rough sex. What if she’s trying to frame her stepdad.’ Hunter traced a line around his wrists. ‘The mother’s got bruises there. If he’s beating her mother…?’

  Jain blew air up her face, then set off. ‘Just chaperone me back to your boss and we’ll see what’s what.’

  ‘Right.’ Hunter led her down the hallway and took the left-hand fork. ‘So, you enjoy the SO unit?’

  ‘Interesting work, plus I got made full DS a couple of months back.’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jain turned the corner into another generic corridor, which seemed to go on forever. ‘Long time since we were wet behind the ears and in uniform.’ She grimaced. ‘Sorry, no offence.’