Past Lying, page 28
Hamish had someone by the neck and was swimming back to shore. He hoisted a body on to the breakwater and headed straight back. Karen crouched down to help and realised it was Rafiq, on his hands and knees, coughing up water and retching. She dragged him to his feet. ‘Get back to the flat right now, and stay there. I’ll call you when I can. But get the fuck out of here before the police arrive.’
He staggered, stumbled to the path and set off in a slow trot towards the flats. Karen saw the blue wash of emergency service lights and prayed he’d have the sense to cut round the back of the apartment blocks.
She turned back to the scumbled black and grey of the sea. Hamish and Daisy were making for the shore in a strange embrace. He was on his back, kicking strongly; she was clasped to his chest, her arms free to perform the most pathetic doggy paddle Karen had ever seen. As they drew close, Karen waded in and took Daisy from Hamish. Her teeth were chattering and she was shaking with cold and fear. Karen held her close. ‘You’re safe. You’re OK. I’ve got you.’
Hamish stood up unsteadily and gazed at the sea. ‘I can’t see him. Fuck, I can’t see him. Can you see him?’
Karen didn’t want to see the man who had come at Rafiq with a knife, but she had too much respect for human life to turn away. The choppy water made it impossible to discern a human head but Hamish wasn’t giving up.
‘Over there,’ he pointed. ‘Is that him?’ The waves parted and what might have been a human head disintegrated into a lip of water edged with foam. Hamish’s shoulders dropped. ‘Fuck,’ he muttered. ‘He’s gone.’ He wrapped his arms round his body and shuddered. Then he turned to Karen and demanded, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He looked around, seeing the blue lights growing closer. ‘And where’s your wee pal?’
Karen was in the grip of adrenaline and she was determined they’d all come out of this in one piece. ‘Later. Listen. Here’s the line: Daisy and I walked down here to pass on some paperwork to you. We walked along the breakwater and a stranger came jogging towards us. He slipped. Lost his footing and went in. He appeared not to be able to swim. You two went in after him. Nobody mentions Rafiq. Is that clear?’
‘Why should we lie for you, Karen?’ Hamish, still nursing his anger.
‘For fuck’s sake, it’s not for me. I promise, I will explain it all to both of you. But a man’s life depends on us. Please believe me.’
Before any of them could say more, a pair of police officers in high-vis jackets came running into sight. ‘What’s happening?’ one demanded. ‘Control said, three in the water.’
‘These two went in to rescue a guy who slipped and went into the water. But they couldn’t find him in the dark. Is there a police boat coming?’
‘It’s been dispatched. Who’s the man in the water?’
‘We’ve no idea,’ Daisy said through chattering teeth. ‘He was jogging along the path towards us and he sidestepped—’
‘Presumably to keep his distance,’ Karen said.
‘And he skidded. He just went straight in and he was over his head in seconds.’ Daisy burst into tears. Karen had no doubt they were genuine. Though what in the name of actual fuck was Daisy doing there?
One of the police officers turned away and had an indecipherable conversation with her radio.
‘What were you three doing here? You do know we’re in lockdown?’
‘Before we get into that, have you not got any space blankets in the car? These two are perishing here.’ She spoke with the authority of rank. ‘I’m DCI Pirie, by the way. Historic Cases Unit. And this is DS Mortimer, also of the HCU. And the big guy is Hamish Mackenzie. DS Mortimer and I are in a bubble, living in Hamish’s flat. Hamish is an entrepreneur—’
‘I own the Perk coffee shop chain and I’ve got a croft in the Highlands where we’re currently making hand gel. I urgently needed some paperwork for a deal I’m putting together, and I asked Karen to bring it down on her daily exercise.’ As he spoke, he pulled on his jumper and his shoes. ‘Until I had to dive into the Forth, we’d all been religiously keeping our legal distance, officer.’
Karen gave silent thanks. The fiction was holding so far. She looked out at the sea and spotted a boat heading their way, its searchlight carving a cone of light across the water, its edges as wobbly as a child’s drawing. ‘Officer, we need to get warm and dry. Space blankets for these two, and then I suggest we give you our details before I drive them back to Hamish’s flat where we can all get warmed up. Statements in the morning?’
The policeman was taken aback, but not unhappy to have the responsibility for decisions taken from him. His colleague joined him. ‘This where he went in?’ she asked.
‘Right here,’ Karen said. ‘It all happened so fast.’ She shook her head and turned back to the officer she’d been talking to. ‘Let us know if you find him, yeah.’
‘Aye, Chief Inspector. I’ll get the space blankets.’
The woman officer’s eyebrows climbed but she said nothing.
The heat-retaining blankets were produced, contact details provided and Karen led the other two away from the scene. ‘Where’s the Landie?’ she asked Hamish as soon as they were out of hearing.
‘Round the back of the serviced apartment block,’ he said, having the grace to look sheepish. ‘I’ve been lurking down the side of your block for bloody ages. You walked right past me, you were only looking at cars.’
They piled into the Land Rover. As they drove out past the supermarket, Hamish demanded once more to know what was going on. ‘I’ll tell you when we’re back at your flat and everybody’s warmed up and in dry clothes,’ Karen said forcefully.
‘And we’ve got a big drink in our hands,’ Daisy added. ‘I’ve no idea what you’ve been up to, boss, but I know you well enough to know there’s a good reason why a guy with a knife ended up drowned in the Forth tonight.’
‘There’s never a good reason why anybody drowns in the dark yards from the shore in the Firth of Forth,’ Karen said bitterly. That silenced everyone.
While Hamish and Daisy were both showering, Karen tried to call Rafiq. There was no reply. She left a message saying simply, ‘You’ve no reason for concern. Call me when you can.’ She forced herself to sound unruffled. She could only imagine the state he was in. He’d just begun to feel a modicum of security and it had been ripped from him.
They reconvened in dry clothes, Hamish in a brilliant white shirt, black trousers and waistcoat. Daisy looked the same as every other evening – sweatshirt and jeans, grumbling about the wreckage of her favourite Converses. Karen had changed into trackie bottoms and slippers, pouring the drinks each requested. Once they were settled, Karen began. ‘I promised I’d tell you why tonight happened. In exchange, I want you to agree to listen and not keep interrupting. OK, Hamish?’
He rolled his eyes and took a mouthful of Bowmore. ‘You drive a hard bargain, Karen.’
‘OK, Daisy?’
‘Sure. Not knowing is driving me crazy.’
Karen laid out the events that had led to Rafiq lodging in her flat. ‘I couldn’t see what else to do. This isn’t the best time to be a refugee whose life is under threat. And if anybody doubted that, tonight should have settled the matter.’
‘So that guy tonight? The lockdown ninja? He was an assassin?’ Daisy’s voice rose in incredulity.
Karen sighed. ‘It looks that way. I’m told the Syrian government has form for tracking down its enemies.’
‘So where is what’s-his-name now?’
‘I sent Rafiq back to my flat and told him to lie low.’
‘Will they not be looking for him? At the hostel? When he doesn’t go back?’ Daisy asked.
‘I told them he might not be coming back. I made out that he was being moved to a secure location because he was a witness. Besides, nobody cares when illegals disappear. It’s just one less body to worry about.’ There was a moment of silence as they all thought about the implications of that.
Then Hamish shook his head. ‘You can’t blame me for jumping to the wrong conclusion,’ he grumbled. ‘A strange man in your flat? And you nowhere to be seen when I came round here before.’
‘Yes, let’s hear what that was all about. You came round before? Is that what you were shouting about earlier? Badmouthing Daisy? Did you show up here when I was out?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s my flat, Karen. Yes, I popped round. I hoped you’d be here, but you weren’t. And Daisy gave me the bum’s rush.’ He tipped his glass towards Daisy. ‘Sorry I doubted you, doll.’
‘Don’t call me “doll”,’ Daisy muttered. ‘My name’s Daisy and my rank is detective sergeant. Either will do.’
Hamish looked offended. ‘There’s no need to be like that.’
‘Why not? You turned up, breaking all the rules, and you acted like I owed you for being allowed to stay here when it was nothing to do with you really. It was her who suggested I move in, not you.’ She waved her glass extravagantly at Karen, almost showering her with red wine.
‘She has a point, Hamish.’ Karen couldn’t help herself. ‘And I will be having words with you, Daisy, about dividing your loyalties.’ She felt like the headmistress in a bad Ealing Comedy, which pissed her off even more. ‘Your place is at the croft just now, Hamish. You can legitimately come down to Edinburgh to make hand gel deliveries. You can even arrange to encounter me – at a distance – on my daily exercise. But what you can’t do is come swanning round here, or my flat, whenever it suits you.’
‘I’m here now—’ he paused and knocked back his drink, defiantly pouring another. ‘And I can’t drive now, can I?’ He grinned wolfishly.
‘I’m out of here,’ Daisy said, topping up her glass and heading for the door. ‘You two need to have a conversation without me.’
They stared at each other across the room, Hamish visibly pleased with himself, Karen hoping her face was impossible to read. All she felt was the emptiness of knowing she’d failed and that failure had cost a life, and the man she’d been sharing her bed with was more interested in angling his way between the sheets with her than abiding by the rules designed to keep them all safe. It wasn’t just them; if Karen had picked up COVID in one of her several encounters over the past few days then passed it on to Hamish, he could infect a swathe of people in his small crofting community, a community that had remained untouched by the virus thus far. ‘You’re irresponsible,’ she said wearily. ‘We’re all in this together, until somebody decides the rules don’t apply to them.’
‘Oh, come on, Karen. You know the village is free of infection.’
‘But Edinburgh’s not. I don’t have a choice about going out into the world. It’s my job. You do have a choice, Hamish.’
He gave a boyish grin. ‘I just couldn’t stay away, Karen. You know how I feel about you.’
‘You forced me into lying on your behalf. I told those two polis a string of lies about your involvement. If this comes to light, my career is over.’
‘If I hadn’t been there, the outcome could have been a bloody sight worse.’
‘That doesn’t alter the fact that you’ve acted outside the rules.’
He scoffed. ‘And you’ve never crossed that line in a noble cause? Busting an illegal immigrant out of a detention hostel, for example?’
‘Your cause wasn’t noble. You didn’t pop down on the off-chance somebody would be drowning in the Forth. And you didn’t just want to hang out because you missed me. I know you, Hamish. You wanted a shag and you thought you could talk me into it if you were here in the room.’ There was nothing flirtatious in her tone, only a weary acceptance that she couldn’t excuse his presence.
He spread his hands, his eyes imploring. ‘I love you, Karen. Is that a crime?’
She gave him a level stare. ‘No. But it’s a mistake.’ She got to her feet, but before she could leave the room, her phone rang. She didn’t recognise the number but she picked up anyway. It was the policeman who’d answered their call for help earlier.
‘I hope you’re all recovered from your ordeal?’ he said.
She forced herself to sound as natural as she could manage. ‘Yes, thanks. Nothing a hot shower and a large whisky couldn’t fix. Any news of the man who went into the water?’
‘That’s why I was calling. The rescue boat found him a hundred yards from shore. I’m afraid he was dead at the scene. It looks like he drowned.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. We did our best.’
‘Nobody’s questioning that, ma’am.’
‘Did he have any ID on him?’
‘Nothing. His phone’s probably at the bottom of the Forth. He looks Middle Eastern or Arabic. It’s hard to tell.’
‘Maybe an appeal to the public, if nobody comes forward?’
‘Aye, that’s probably the way we’ll have to go. But it’s early days yet. I was wondering, could you come in and make a formal statement tomorrow at some point?’
‘All three of us?’ Karen frowned. She wanted Hamish gone, not hanging around waiting to talk to a polis.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary. From everything you’ve said, it looks straightforward enough. I just need to get something on paper.’
She established when he was on shift and agreed to meet him at Gayfield Square to give her statement. Karen ended the call. ‘You’ll have gathered he didn’t make it.’
Hamish shrugged. ‘Probably just as well. It makes life a lot simpler for all of us.’
She stared at him in blank incomprehension. How could she have thought she might love this man? How could she not have seen the self-serving attitude that lay beneath his apparent kindness and generosity? She remembered a friend once arguing over dinner that there was no such thing as altruism; there was always something in it for the giver, even if it was just the warm glow of having done good for some poor soul who couldn’t manage what life had thrown at them. She’d thought it cynical but now Hamish was forcing her to reconsider. Right from the start there had been a niggle at the back of her mind but she’d swept it into a corner because she was so bereft after Phil’s death. She’d wanted someone to make her feel valued again, and Hamish was good at that. Because it suited him.
‘A man’s dead, Hamish. It might be convenient for you because you don’t have to confront your serial lockdown busting. And yes, he was probably there to kill a decent man. But who are we to judge his unknown life? The pressures that drove him here?’ This time she made it to the door. ‘You know where the spare duvet and pillows are kept. The sofa’s very comfortable, so Daisy tells me. I want you gone when I get up.’
He stood up then and took a step towards her, arms spread in invitation. ‘Karen?’
‘Don’t. Not now.’ Maybe never again. ‘As soon as lockdown is lifted, Daisy and I will be out of here and you can have your flat back to do what you want with.’
His face crumpled. His eyes sparkled with tears. She nearly cracked. Then she remembered Rafiq’s frightened face, and her resolve returned. She shook her head. ‘We’ll talk later, Hamish. But neither of us can pretend this night hasn’t happened.’
35
The last thing Karen did before she got into bed was to try to reach Rafiq. No reply, again. She wasn’t surprised. He must be consumed with fear. Where there was one assassin, there could easily be two. His opponents had a long reach – someone in the hostel must have had sufficient access to discover who had sprung him. Presumably they’d googled her and found images online of good enough quality to identify her. They’d had the patience to wait for her to appear at Gayfield Square then follow her home. More waiting till she finally led them to Rafiq.
The guilt was tremendous. She’d tried to help, and maybe she had saved his life, but the price was high. And it could get higher still if someone had happened to see the drama playing out on the breakwater. Or even simply passed a dripping Rafiq on his way back to her flat.
And, on a much more trivial level, what was she to do about Hamish? The pressures of COVID had revealed aspects she’d never seen before. She’d always known he was a businessman, but she hadn’t really considered how that might lead to ruthlessness. She’d never had cause to interfere with his businesses in the past; she thought now she had probably engaged in wishful thinking. She’d taken him at face value as a decent man with a reasonable attitude to his staff. Sure, she’d been uncomfortable from time to time when he’d organised some extravagant treat for the pair of them that she’d explicitly not wanted, but she’d thought that was because he wanted to give her pleasure. Now, she had to look at that in a different light. There was, she thought, an element of control in that sort of kindness.
This was the kind of tumult that usually drove her to walk the night streets. But she was almost growing accustomed to the enforced lockdown limitations on that. Her body and her brain were slowly learning that the nightly battle with sleep wasn’t necessary. At first, she’d had a panicky couple of nights but once she’d understood she wasn’t exactly imprisoned, she’d learned to let go. Like the poem in Lara’s novel. Only, it wasn’t love that had come in its wake; it was even more letting go.
When she emerged, freshly showered, just after seven, there was not a trace of Hamish in the flat. He was there on her phone; three missed calls and half a dozen texts she was scrupulously avoiding. He’d clearly not slept on the sofa, defiantly driving back north in spite of being over the limit. Not clever, just exasperating, Karen thought. She called through to Daisy. ‘Coffee’s on, we need to be out of here by half past.’
Daisy appeared in jeans and a dark green roll-neck jumper, dark smudges under her eyes. She yawned a ‘Good morning’ at Karen. ‘Did you get much sleep?’
‘Oddly enough, yes. I closed my eyes and I felt like I’d been unplugged. You?’
Daisy pulled a face. ‘I kept dreaming I was drowning and waking up gasping for breath.’ She reached for a mug of coffee. ‘I guess I’m more sensitive than I thought.’
