The Reborn by Lin Anderson Page B

Rhona knew him well enough to know that. Bill had been raised with the belief that whatever you were asked to do, you did it properly. That went for everything, from the mundane to the important. And in respect of McNab and the Gravedigger case, he believed he had not fulfilled that obligation, nor his duty.
    When she opened the door, he was seated at the table, a full mug of congealing coffee in front of him. She wanted to go over and hug him, but didn’t.
    The last time they’d met was shortly after McNab’s funeral. They’d sat in Bill’s local, and Rhona had tried unashamedly to stop Bill leaving the police force. Back then, they’d had no idea what the outcome of the assault charge would be. It was their individual guilt and despair over Michael’s death that had dominated the interchange.
    He looked up as she entered.
    ‘Sergeant Willis refused to tell me where you were, so I came looking.’
    ‘You’re the first one to make it through his cordon.’ He gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘For what?’
    ‘Your forensic evidence.’
    ‘You should never have said you did it.’
    ‘McNab reacted the way he did because of me. An assault charge would have finished his career.’
    Everything he said was true. McNab was known for his ill-controlled temper. An assault conviction would have probably resulted in the end of his CID career.
    ‘McNab would never have let it go.’ She didn’t add, if he were still alive .
    Bill acknowledged that with a brief nod.
    Both of them knew that it wasn’t over yet. The disciplinary procedure would kick in now the court case had ended. Bill had disobeyed a direct order from a superior, which had resulted in an assault. There were mitigating circumstances and he was a respected officer, but whatever decision Sutherland made, would Bill accept it and carry on?
    Before she could ask, the door opened and Angus stuck his head round.
    ‘The Super will see you now, Sir.’
    Bill rose, his expression stony. If persuasion couldn’t make him stay, maybe the possibility of revenge would.
    She put her hand on his arm.
    ‘Word is that Nikolai Kalinin is back in the UK.’
    He gave her a half smile, acknowledging her last-ditch attempt, then he was gone.
    Since Bill’s suspension, Slater had done little to pursue McNab’s killers. The investigation into Russian mob activities in Glasgow had been his baby. He’d put all the team’s effort into trying to nail Kalinin, and failed. Slater didn’t like to be associated with failure, so he’d mothballed the case, using the excuse that McNab’s killers had left the country. Intelligence suggested Kalinin had returned to Russia or was lying low on the Mediterranean, managing gambling interests there. With the best will in the world, the long arm of Scots law didn’t stretch that far.
    But the death of McNab was like a canker at the heart of Bill’s team. The DI’s acquittal would ease some of the sense of injustice, but it wasn’t enough.
    She chose to return to the lab via the park. The frenetic police activity of the past forty-eight hours had dwindled to a team of SOCOs still scouring the interior of the mirror maze, and a couple of uniforms conducting door to door enquiries with the inhabitants of the motor homes.
    The funfair was back in business, or would be in the evening, apart from the Hall of Mirrors. According to the news, the murder had brought in the crowds, keen to look at the scene of such a unique and ghoulish crime. The fact that the baby had not yet been found, dead or alive, only serving to feed the frenzy of interest.
    Past the site of the funfair, the park achieved normality. Open spaces, wooded river banks, cycle tracks and a rollerblading structure. Close by was an enclosed children’s playground. It housed a climbing frame and slide and a small roundabout, as well as two sets of swings, one with toddler-type seats. The play area was deserted. No chatting mums, no children. Maybe it was the time