Remember Me 2 Page 12
Her face became very serious.
McKenzie began to feel a heavy sick sensation in the pit of his stomach.
His heart was racing, and he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead.
At that moment, all the stress and horror of the past few days seemed to coalesce in those few small seconds.
“Little Bump.
Please God.
Please let Little Bump be okay!”
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Monday
Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh
20.00
McKenzie sat on the edge of the bed, stroking his wife’s hand.
She had been crying.
The obstetrician had just left them, having explained the situation.
The news had been… good.
An incredible relief.
The words ‘Braxton Hicks’ had just been indelibly added to their vocabulary, at least McKenzie’s. Fiona had known about them already, but they were both relieved to hear that the sensations she’d been having were not true contractions, at least not the type of contractions that heralded the arrival of a baby.
They were common, apparently, and not signs of immediate problems.
Fiona had been advised to go home and rest, and was shortly to be discharged.
“I want you to go to your sister’s in Stirling.” McKenzie had suggested, quietly, just after kissing her on the forehead and wiping away some more of her tears. I don’t like the idea of you being alone in the house. You needed me today, and I wasn’t there. And things are not going to get any easier in the next week or two. We’ve got a serial killer on the loose threatening to kill another victim, and we have to do everything we can to find him in the next few days, before it’s too late. I want to be with you, and Little Bump, but three people have already died… and we have to stop the next death.”
Fiona smiled.
“Don’t worry. I understand. The doctor said I’m fine. There’s no problem. The important thing is you came tonight as soon as I called you. You dropped everything.”
He smiled.
“But I have to go back… ”
“Now?”
“Okay, not now. I’ll take you home, get you to bed and give you some food. But then I’ve got some work to do at home. I’ll call your sister and get her to come and pick you up tomorrow morning.”
“I can drive myself. There’s nothing wrong with me. Actually, it’s quite good, because I’ve just been given a full once over, and they’ve said everything is brilliant. Apart from the Braxton Hicks Contractions, everything is great.”
“I was so scared.” McKenzie admitted.
“We both were. But get used to it. Once Little Bump is born, we’re going to be scared for ‘It’ for the rest of our lives. Parenthood never ends.”
McKenzie smiled.
“I know. And I love the sound of that. I can’t wait.”
He stood up, took a deep breath, and clapped his hands together.
“Okay, let’s get you home!”
Fiona laughed. “I’m not one of your team. Less of the clapping, please.”
They gathered their things together, signed a form at the reception and then walked slowly out to the car.
As they approached the car, McKenzie spotted something lying on his windscreen.
Adrenalin instantly surged through his system, and he stopped in his tracks, looking around him, watching for anyone who might be watching them.
“What’s the matter?” Fiona asked, stopping beside him and scanning his face.
“Nothing.” McKenzie lied, then approached the car and retrieved the item from the screen.
As he took a closer look at it, the surge of relief was immense.
He was probably the only person to ever react in that way upon receiving such a notice, but he couldn’t help smiling.
It was just a parking ticket.
Chapter 36
Monday
The Grange
The McKenzie Household
22.00
McKenzie sat on the leather chair in their bedroom at the end of the bed. Fiona had finally managed to stop fussing about one thing or the other, and settle underneath the blankets, and McKenzie had at last managed to pour himself a glass of wine and open the first pages of ‘Remember Me?’
He started the first few pages.
Then his phone rang.
It was Brown.
“Can you talk?” she asked.
“Hang on...” he replied, dropping the book on the chair and sneaking out the room. Fiona had already nodded off.
“What’s up?” he asked, as he got downstairs to the kitchen.
“How’s Fiona?”
“Ah… she’s fine. She just fell asleep. She wasn’t in labour after all, and everything’s fine.”
“Excellent. We were all worried about her. Anyway, I have some news for you. After you left, I managed to catch the school secretary at Portobello High School. She’s given me her home number. She has all the records going back years for the school. I asked her who the janitors and caretakers were during the period 1990-1996, and she’d already dug that information out as part of the task we gave her to find out about all the ex-teachers at the school. She was able to go to her laptop and tell me straight away.”
“Brilliant. And who was it?”
“The old school had one caretaker stroke janitor for over twenty years. Completely dedicated to the school. It was his life. Apparently, a brilliant man. Totally capable. He retired in 2009. Sally knew him. She’s been the school secretary for about fifteen years now.”
“Can you call him? Can we talk to him?”
“Nope. Sorry. He died a few years ago.”
McKenzie was silent for a few seconds.
“Obviously that rules him out. He would have known all about the tunnel. The question was, who else did? Did the secretary… Sally?”
“Nope, I asked her. She had no idea that there was a network of small and large tunnels under the school, but she wasn’t surprised. It’s a big campus. Apparently, drainage was often a problem. There’re several big ponds in the main area, which often flooded and overflowed during storms. There’s a lot of concrete covered area and little natural run-off. The pipes and the tunnels were very much needed.”
“So, who else might have known?”
“I’m on that one. I asked. But she couldn’t think of anyone else in the school who would be interested or have any responsibility for them. However, the janitor lived in a house within the premises. He looked after the school all year round. It wasn’t a seasonal thing. It was a full-on job.”
“So, who lived in the house with him?”
“His wife. Cathy.”
“Can we talk with her?”
“Nope. I asked that too. Unfortunately, she died of cancer in 2006. He only survived her by a few years. He took it very hard.”
“Ouch.”
A moment’s silence.
“Before you ask, Guv, I also asked about children. The campus must have been a brilliant playground for children, especially during holidays when it was empty. And things like tunnels would be brilliant for children to explore. Cathy might not have known about the tunnels, but I’ve got nephews and I know for a fact that if their Dad was responsible for looking after them, any kids would have known all about them.”
“Good thinking. So, did he have children?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Blast.”
“But… ”
“But what?”
“But… according to Sally, they did foster some children. At least two that she knew of. A girl, for a few months, but the parents took her back. Then there was a boy, Michael. A good boy. Apparently. They had him for about six years.”
“Excellent. How old would be now? Do we know where he is?”
“He’s dead.”
“What?”
“Died in the Gulf War in Iraq, a couple of months before it ended. He was in the army. Apparently, M
r Banner, the Janitor, was in the army too, and the boy followed in his footsteps.”
“So, where does that leave us.”
“I don’t know. I want to check tomorrow with the council if the Banners fostered any more kids, but for now, it looks like we’ve come to a dead-end.”
McKenzie swore.
“This can’t be. Someone knew all about that tunnel. And that person is probably the killer. We find the person, we find the killer.”
“Like I said, Guv, I’ll be on this first thing in the morning. I’ll be camping out on the Council’s doorstep before they open.”
“Stay as long as you have to at the Council. There’s got to be somebody else who knew. Enquire about any work done at the school. Did they ever do any construction that might have led others to discover the tunnels?”
“I asked already. Apparently nothing that Sally knew of. They built an Annexe on the other side of the campus, where the tennis courts used to be, but that was a temporary structure, and didn’t have any foundations.”
“Okay.”
“Guv, I’ll also be chasing down with the council the history of the campus, and when the ground at the back was sold-off and some houses were built on what used to be part of the campus.”
“Good. Thanks. Maybe you should get on home now though. It’s late.”
“I will. But there’s a few of us here, and we might end up at the Forrester’s Arms in Portobello afterwards. We’re just waiting for the others to finish up.”
“Say thanks to everyone else for all the hard work. I’ll see you tomorrow… and good luck at the council.”
McKenzie walked over to the kettle and started to make himself a fresh cup of tea. Whilst he waited for the kettle to boil, he thought of what he’d just learned.
The janitor was dead, and so was the boy who might have known about the tunnel. But someone else had to have known. McKenzie was positive that they were on to the right track. If it wasn’t Mr Banner or his son, it had to be someone else.
McKenzie finished making the tea, put some good relaxing music on in the lounge, then snuck upstairs to say goodnight to Fiona.
Popping his head around the door, he saw that Fiona was still fast asleep. Creeping inside, he picked up the copy of Remember Me?, then returned downstairs, settled down and started reading.
Within minutes, one thing had become very clear.
It was a terrible book.
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Monday
Café Royal
Edinburgh
22.25
Marie and Stuart sat in one of the small booths at the Café Royal, nursing their drinks and neither in a hurry to go anywhere.
They’d had a wonderful meal. Actually more of an experience than just a meal.
The Witchery had certainly lived up to its reputation.
Marie had also been true to her word.
Halfway through the meal she’d pulled out a list of questions she’d written down, and started to go through them one at a time.
“Where were you born?”
“Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Are your parents still alive?”
“What music do you like?”
“What hobbies do you have?”
“What do you actually do, Stuart? Where do you work?”
All the questions were easy to answer up to that point. Now faced with the question he’d been dreading, he didn’t want to lie to Marie, but neither did he want to tell her the truth.
Evasion was the answer.
Or the truth, but not exactly the whole truth.
That way he wouldn’t be lying.
“I used to be in the army. Then I came out, got a degree as a mature student and then got a job. Now I work in finance.”
“Who for?” the interrogation continued. Although, to be truthful, it was the nicest ‘interrogation’ he’d ever had. Marie was genuinely interested in his answers, and he knew she was asking not because she was nosey, or making any judgements about him, but because she wanted to get to know him. For who he was. As a person.
It was really strange.
Marie made no bones about hiding the truth that she had nothing.
She was very poor. Owned no property. Had no real assets.
Yet she seemed to be incredibly happy, and driven, and her life had real meaning.
In some ways they were polar opposites, yet in other ways they were so similar.
The word ‘soul-mate’ had popped into his mind earlier on, but he had immediately silenced it. Did soul-mates really exist? Was such a thing possible?
Probably for the first time in his life, Stuart was nervous about admitting anything about his wealth. He was worried that Marie would find it obscene. She certainly would not be impressed by it.
She had no need for money for herself.
She needed money, yes, but only to help the others that she cared for.
Any money she received, she would give away.
Marie fascinated Stuart.
She was, … amazing.
Stuart could also not quite believe his luck in meeting her.
Only last Saturday afternoon he’d experienced some form of epiphany. He’d realised how little he’d had. He’d changed. Then he’d met Marie that same evening.
Was it all coincidence?
Or was his guardian angel somewhere smiling down on him and pointing him gently in a new direction?
An opportunity to become truly wealthy, in a way that had nothing to do with money.
It was ironic.
He had everything,
She had nothing.
And he wanted what she had.
The last thing he wanted was to lose her.
“So,” she probed, tenaciously. “Who do you work for? Do you actually have a job?”
“Would it matter if I didn’t?”
“Probably, because I think you said something earlier about having to work. And I would hate to think you were then or are now, not telling me the truth.”
There was an edge to her voice when she said that, which had scared him slightly.
He’d been warned.
Don’t mess her around.
“I work for Ben Venue Capital Assets.”
“Hang on, were they not the company that sponsored the ball on Saturday?”
“One and the same. More money than sense.”
“Interesting.”
“Actually, you given me quite a good entry into what I wanted to say to you… my surprise for the evening… .”
“Ah… you’re trying to change the subject… I have more questions… ”
“One more… just one more… then I have to tell you something. It’s important.”
“Okay… ” she made a show of scanning down the list of questions. Then dramatically picked one. Her last for the evening.
“How about this. Where do you live? With your parents? You seem to be rather shy about it, actually.”
Stuart thought about it. This was the second big question he’d been dreading.
“It’s not the most impressive of places. I don’t think it would impress you at all. And it’s very messy. I have to admit to being a typical bachelor. I sleep there, but … the truth is, I’d be embarrassed to show it to you. So I don’t want to. Yet.”
Marie laughed.
“I’m still curious. I’m a woman.”
“I’d noticed… ”
“And that’s the sort of thing we wonder about, when we meet eligible bachelors that sweep you off your feet.”
“And that’s what you think I’ve done to you?”
She stopped laughing.
Her eyes twinkled.
“Actually, yes, you have.”
He couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion within himself. He reached out and gently took hold of her hand.
He swallowed hard.
“That’s not possible. I couldn’t sweep you off your feet, because you’d already knocked me off mine. I’m
worried I’m falling in way over my head here.”
She smiled. They were both nervous.
“I have another question for you Stuart. And please, tell me the truth.”
He nodded. He knew it was serious, and would probably be the third important question of the evening.
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Are you involved with someone else? Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Are you gay?”
His turn to shake his head.
“Then what’s the matter with you, Stuart Nisbet?”
“Ask me if I have been married. You missed that one out.”
“Have you? Been married?”
“No.”
“Then why not? How come… , seriously, how come someone like you is not already taken? Is there something I should be scared off? Are you a serial killer?”
Stuart didn’t reply.
Should he tell her the truth?
“What? You are a serial killer?” she pressed.
“And if I were?” he asked.
It was a strange answer, and for the first time since meeting Stuart, Marie McDonald felt a little uncomfortable.
Chapter 37
Monday
Café Royal
Edinburgh
23.05
Stuart saw the reaction to his question in her eyes, and immediately squeezed her hand.
“I’m teasing. Sorry. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. There’s nothing wrong with me, I don’t think, but you might need to formulate your own opinion on that. I haven’t been married, I’m not gay, and I’m not a serial killer. But, and this is what I was hesitating to answer, I have had a lot of relationships. I know it’s not the best answer, but I also don’t want to lie to you. So, I’m just saying it the way it is.”
“A lot?”
“Yes. Quite a few. I love women, but I’ve never found the one. You know, the one. I did think I’d found someone very special once. I was really in love. But then she committed suicide. Without discussing it with me. Completely out of the blue… ”
His voice trailed off, and he looked away, lifting his head and obviously fighting his emotions.