Текст книги "Evil Games"

Автор книги: Angela Marsons

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

FIFTY-SIX

Alex’s eyes went to the door each time it opened, awaiting the arrival of her new best friend. Their relationship had changed during the last meeting. Now they were on first-name terms and the project was progressing nicely.

When Kim had called her earlier that morning and asked to meet for coffee, she had been thinking the exact same thing. Further proof of their mutual curiosity. Kim had suggested the cosy coffee shop fifty feet from Alex’s office and she’d been more than happy to agree.

The door opened and Alex watched as Kim approached in her trademark black. Alex wondered if the woman had any idea of the attention she commanded. Her walk was purposeful and decisive. Her eyes set a path that her feet dared not deviate.

‘Doctor,’ Kim said sitting down.

Alex noted that Kim had reverted to titles. During their last meeting they had graduated to first names and Alex wasn’t one to move backwards.

If Kim noticed the faint scratch marks below the concealer she chose not to mention it.

‘It’s good to see you, Kim. I took the liberty of getting you a latte.’

Kim folded her legs beneath the table. ‘Thank you, Doctor, but it’s Detective Inspector and I have a few questions for you.’

There was no effort to soften the rebuke with a smile and Alex felt oddly disappointed. Whether Kim’s impromptu visit to her office had been genuine or not, it would have been more satisfying to play with the woman by simulating friendship. But no matter, she’d work with what she had.

‘I take it we’re not discussing sleep disorders this time?’

‘Well, we can if you’d like. Didn’t yours start after the death of your family?’

Alex tipped her head and said nothing. That sounded like a rhetorical question.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot; they’re not your family and they didn’t die.’

Alex contained her surprise. She briefly considered allowing her eyes to fill and talk beseechingly about loneliness, her career and all the sacrifices of a personal life, but they had passed that point. Kim wasn’t going to fall for it, so Alex wouldn’t waste her energy on that game play. Ultimately, she was flattered that Kim had gone to the trouble of finding out.

‘It’s a lie, isn’t it?’

Alex shrugged. ‘A harmless one. My patients are reassured by both my extensive education and my life experience.’

‘But it’s not an accurate reflection of you, is it, Doctor?’

‘Very few of us are ever completely ourselves; I would imagine you know that as well as anyone. The photograph on my desk is there for people to make assumptions and they do. We all present a façade to the world. And it suited me to present a family. Even to you, Kim.’

Kim’s eyes flamed at the use of her first name, but she held herself in check.

‘So, it’s a manipulation?’

‘Yes, I suppose, but as I said, a harmless one.’

‘Are all your manipulations harmless?’ Kim asked, tipping her head.

‘I have no idea what you mean.’

‘Do you manipulate your patients in other ways?’

Alex allowed the corner of her lips to turn up slightly, aiming at bemused. ‘What exactly are you accusing me of?’

‘It was a question, not an accusation.’

So, the detective was analysing every word she said. Good. Take this, Alex thought.

‘Kim, I have many patients. I deal with conditions along the whole spectrum of mental health, from a bout of stress to paranoid schizophrenia. I treat people who will never recover from childhood trauma. I treat people with all types of guilt, survivor and otherwise.’

Alex wasn’t sure how many points she’d scored, but a slight stiffening of the back confirmed that one or two poison darts had found the target.

‘So, if you’d care to be more specific, I’ll help you in any way I can.’

‘Ruth Willis.’

Alex was intrigued by what Kim thought she knew.

‘Sometimes people cannot be fixed, Kim. I would imagine that you have unsolved cases in your past; incidents that, despite your best efforts, you were unable to bring to a successful conclusion. Ideally I would have liked to move Ruth to the next stage of her life, but she is a very troubled young lady. You see, sometimes there is safety in the anger, and often vengeance is the glue that holds them together.’ Alex lowered her eyes. ‘Ruth will never recover from what she’s done.’

‘She’s doing quite well, actually,’ Kim shot back at her.

As expected, Alex had learned what she wanted to know. The detective had been to see Ruth. But it was of no concern. No one would ever believe Ruth if she dared speak out.

‘It was an interesting visualisation exercise you used during your last session.’

Alex shrugged. ‘It is a technique used widely for many reasons: stress relief, goal achievement, and it works well for letting go of negative emotions. It is symbolic.’

‘Or a blueprint for an unstable mind?’

Alex laughed. She hadn’t enjoyed herself this much since she’d convinced a chat room full of bulimia sufferers that they’d been getting the best of both worlds.

‘Oh, please, visualisation techniques can include all manner of things but people don’t actually go out and do them. It’s a technique, not an instruction.’

‘And you couldn’t have known that Ruth was too unstable to act out the symbolic role-play?’

Alex thought for a moment. ‘You believe wholeheartedly in the integrity of your profession and the individuals within the police force that uphold the law?’

‘You’re answering a question with a question, but yes I do.’

‘It is a system in which you believe, regardless of any imperfections?’

‘Of course.’

‘Although it was before your time in the force, I’m sure you will have heard of the Carl Bridgewater case. A thirteen-year-old paper boy was shot dead at a farm not far from here. The Midlands Serious Crime Squad fixated on a group of four males and eventually secured convictions for all four on what was painfully scarce evidence.

‘Following investigations into their methods the Serious Crime Squad was disbanded for, amongst other things, fabricating evidence, and many of their convictions were overturned. Years later, the three living males convicted of murdering Carl Bridgewater were released from prison on appeal.’

Alex tipped her head to the right. ‘So, please, tell me what part of that particular process you are most proud of?’

‘One of the males made a full confession,’ Kim defended.

‘After severely questionable methods of interrogation. What I’m trying to demonstrate with that particular example is that, at worst, those police officers were aware that they were framing innocent men, in which case the system failed. Or perhaps they were overzealous in their methods but got the right men, who were then released on appeal; again, the system failed.

‘Every single profession is fraught with inconsistencies. It is the exception that often proves the rule. I believe passionately in what I do, but do I accept that not everyone will behave the way I’d like them to? Of course I do, because that is human nature.’

Kim’s brow furrowed. ‘So, to use your example, those police officers either deliberately manipulated the evidence or they were grossly incompetent. Which one of those options is responsible for your failure with Ruth, Doctor?’

Alex chuckled. She really did like a challenging conversation. ‘The failure was all Ruth’s, I can assure you.’

Kim fixed her with that disarming stare. ‘But that’s what I don’t understand. Either you deliberately chose a form of treatment that you knew would inspire her to take the action she did, or you made a mistake in carrying out that exercise. Either way, you are partially responsible for the subsequent events. Do you not agree, Doctor?’

Alex sighed deeply. ‘Have suspects committed suicide in police holding cells?’

Kim nodded.

‘Why? How has that been possible?’

Kim said nothing.

‘Putting a suspect in custody is part of your judicial process and so you do it. You cannot know that an individual will take that opportunity to end his life. If you did, you would not do it.’

‘Perhaps you would if you wanted to see the reaction.’

‘A person who has dedicated their life to the mental health profession would have no interest in patients as subject matter.’

For the first time, Kim smiled. ‘Noticeably delivered in the third person.’

Disappointingly, Alex felt the first stages of boredom setting in.

‘Okay, Kim. I would not use my knowledge and expertise in such a way.’

Kim paused and tipped her head. ‘Hmm … your dead sister would tend to disagree.’

Alex was momentarily surprised by the mention of Sarah. Communication between Kim and her sister was not something she had factored in – she preferred to keep her games separate. However, she recovered her composure quickly.

‘My sister and I are not close. She is not a credible source on my professional life.’

‘Really? Your letters to her indicate that you like to keep her abreast of your patients’ progress.’

Alex felt tension seep into her neck. How dare that spineless little bitch interfere with her life?

‘In fact, she feels that you’ve been torturing and harassing her for years.’

Alex tried to smile the tension from her jaws. ‘Jealousy is a very ugly trait. When you have siblings there is always a competitiveness that emerges. I have been very successful in my career. My IQ is superior and I was favoured as a child, so you see, she has many motives for being bitter.’

Kim nodded her understanding. ‘Yes, she talked in great detail about your childhood together. We talked about your differing views on pet care.’

It took all of Alex’s energy not to groan out loud. Jesus, had the pathetic little creature still not forgotten that one little incident?

Alex didn’t like being wrong-footed. She’d never enjoyed surprises as a child, and when cornered, her defences turned to attack. Alex was about to hit the fast forward button.

‘Oh, Kim, family relationships are such complicated things. If Mikey hadn’t died right beside you, you would know these things, but unfortunately for you, your childhood abuse and neglect has left you with much more than survivor guilt. You are …’

‘You know nothing about …’

Alex was rewarded by emotion blazing in the woman’s eyes.

‘Oh, but I do,’ Alex said, pleasantly. ‘I know a lot about you. I know that your pain didn’t end once you escaped your mother. There are probably things that happened in those foster homes that you have never shared with anyone.’

‘I see you’ve done your homework, Doctor. Ten out of ten.’

Alex heard the shift in the woman’s voice and knew that she’d hit a nerve.

‘Oh but I always like to get top marks, Kim. I know that the only validation you get is through your work. I know that your life is solitary and that you are emotionally cold. When your personal space is violated you feel suffocated and have to free yourself. Your relationships are based on your own terms or not at all.’

The colour was fading from the detective’s cheeks. But Alex fancied another twist of the knife.

‘At any moment you could fall into the blackness that follows you every minute of every day. I know there are days when you are tempted to loosen that grip and allow yourself to be swallowed by your own mind.’

Alex stopped herself. She wanted to say more but she’d done enough to make her point. The rest would come later.

She reached for her handbag and stood. ‘Until the next time, Detective Inspector.’

The black eyes bore into her with pure hatred. Alex felt gratified and couldn’t resist one last dig.

As she passed the back of Kim’s chair, she swooped in and kissed Kim on the cheek.

‘Oh, and Kimmy, Mummy said hi.’

FIFTY-SEVEN

Kim let herself back into the house, the meeting still ringing in her ears. She had run two red lights and overtaken anything that had stood in her way. The recklessness had not exorcised the rage from her body and the urge to hurt something remained.

‘Fuck that fucking woman,’ she shouted, throwing her jacket at the coffee table. A magazine and two spark plugs skidded to the floor.

Barney walked towards her, wagging his tail, seemingly impervious to her mood.

‘If you know what’s good for you, stay out of my way,’ she advised.

Barney followed her into the kitchen as though he knew he was in no danger from her. And he was right.

Barney reacted with the same enthusiasm he did every time she came home. A few tail wags and then he sat in front of the second cupboard door: the food cupboard.

Kim switched on the kettle and sat at the dining table. She had considered stepping into the garage but her mind was still ablaze with questions.

Barney sat and leaned against her leg the same way he had when she’d visited his old master. But this time her hand found its way to the top of his head. He remained still beneath the stroking movement of her palm.

She admitted that not all of her anger was aimed at the doctor.

Never had she felt so constricted. Two cases were constantly moving out of her grasp.

The private life of Leonard Dunn had been evaluated countless times. They had interviewed hundreds of people during the initial investigation that had led to his arrest and now they were chasing a ghost. Everyone was a potential suspect and, with dread, she knew what she had to do.

She took out her phone and tapped a few names into the list key.

Brett Lovett from Car Spares National.

Charles Cook from Blackheath.

Wendy Dunn.

Robin Parks.

She knew she was on borrowed time with the Dunn investigation. New cases were landing on her desk every day. Each time Woody asked to see her, she braced herself for the instruction to shelve the Dunn case. She dreaded hearing that order from his mouth. Because she knew she couldn’t comply.

She would not stop until she found the person who had stood in that room and watched a young girl being abused by her father. At the least, that person had left the house knowing it would happen again and yet had failed to come to the police station. At worst … well, that didn’t bear thinking about.

Kim opened her mouth to slacken her jaw. The tension had travelled there and rested.

No, she would never let it rest. Not until she found the bastard.

And then there was the case she was flying solo.

She knew that their next meeting would not be so civilised. In the meantime, she would need to devise some kind of mental armour to keep Alex out. Ted had advised her to steer clear. He had advised her to ‘run faster’.

The woman seemed to know everything about her. The gloves were off between them now and a small part of her was relieved that she had been right about Alex all along. Now she had to find a way to prove it.

Kim fired up Yahoo and again plugged the doctor’s name into a search. The first time she’d done this she had only entered the websites with official articles either about Alex or written by her, but as she scrolled through the results she hit websites where the doctor had been named.

She entered website after blog after chat room, ferreting out the references to the doctor. Forty minutes later, Kim was considering nominating Alex for a Nobel Peace Prize. The statements were gushing, and in some cases reverent.

Kim refilled her coffee mug thinking, Jesus, I’m trying to nail Mother Theresa. She got back to it and eventually found a post that grabbed her attention.

It was almost hidden in a chat room hyperlinked from an agoraphobia website and simply asked if anyone had ever been treated by Doctor Thorne. Kim counted seventeen responses, all positive, but she saw no return post from the person who had started the thread.

Kim accepted this was no smoking gun, but the poster, DaiHard137, had asked the question for a reason. The fact there was no further post indicated that the poster hadn’t received the response they’d been hoping for. If DaiHard137 wished to compliment the doctor, why no second post agreeing with all the plaudits that had followed?

A knot of excitement grumbled in her stomach and then died. There was no way in hell of finding out who DaiHard137 was. Of course, there were people in the Tech department at the station who could probably track the user in minutes but her request for the search would create an audit trail straight back to Woody’s office.

She took out a fresh notepad and began writing notes on every contact she’d had with the doctor, trying her best to recall where each conversation had taken place. Kim’s pen hovered above the page as she recalled their meeting at Alex’s practice. The female patient she had passed on the way out; the one who had disturbed their meeting. There was something familiar about her. Kim tried to recall more detail from her memory but she’d been distracted. She could visualise the face: nervous, anxious, but she just couldn’t place it.

Kim left the desk and walked around the room, ticking off the possibilities. She wasn’t a witness, Kim knew they had not spoken, so that ruled out any of the cases she’d worked on. She considered that the female was familiar to her from around town but she dismissed this.

Court. The word bounded into her mind. It wasn’t one of her cases but it suddenly clicked into place.

She dialled Bryant’s number. He answered on the second ring.

‘Bryant, cast your mind back to that fraud case a couple of weeks ago. What other cases were being tried?’

Bryant would know. He’d been talking to one of the victim-support officers. Bryant talked to everyone.

‘Err … an aggravated burglary and a child abuse case.’

That was it. The female she’d seen coming out of Alex’s office had most likely been court-ordered to attend therapy.

‘Thanks, Bryant.’

She hung up before he could ask any questions.

As her excitement began to grow, so did the fear. She was treating a woman who had already caused or allowed harm to her child. And that was before Alex got started on her. She dreaded to think what Jessica could do under the care of Alex.

Kim’s head fell into her hands. No one was going to believe her. What was she supposed to do? How could she track down this woman and if she did, what the hell would she say?

She rubbed her eyes and glanced back at the computer screen. Her mouth fell open. ‘Are you kidding me?’ she said aloud.

Barney obviously thought she was talking to him. He jumped from the sofa and sat beside her. Her left arm fell to her side and absently started stroking his head.

‘No way,’ she breathed, looking again at the name of the poster on that thread. She’d thought DaiHard137 was a pretty clever name and it was, especially if your name was David Hardwick of Hardwick House.

FIFTY-EIGHT

The face of the man that opened the door was immediately confused. ‘Detective Inspector?’

Kim had considered a call to Woody to alert him to her fears but still she had no proof to offer. She was hoping she could find something here.

‘You remember me?’ She asked.

‘Of course. It was a memorable evening for us all. Is there a problem?’

With the people housed within these walls, Kim supposed that police knocking on the door was a constant threat.

She shook her head. ‘May I come in?’

‘Of course.’

He held the door open for her and she walked past. The clean odour of pine emanated from his skin.

‘Come through to the kitchen.’

She followed him and sat down. He placed himself on the other side of the worn wooden table. A tall man appeared in the doorway. He wore light-coloured jeans and a sweatshirt bearing the name of a university. His eyes looked up and to the left and he tapped his two index fingers together.

‘Dougie, this is … I’m sorry, I don’t know …’

‘Detective Inspector Stone.’

‘Dougie, this lady is a police officer who is here to … actually I’m not sure why she’s here, but there isn’t anything wrong, okay?’

He nodded and wandered away.

‘Dougie gets uncomfortable with new people.’

Kim was confused. ‘Isn’t this a kind of halfway house for ex-criminals?’

‘Well researched, Detective Inspector.’

‘What did Dougie do?’

‘Hmm … Dougie isn’t an official resident. He isn’t actually halfway to anywhere.’

Kim frowned. That seemed unkind.

‘My apologies, that sounded worse than it was meant. I mean that Dougie will be with us for as long as he chooses. He does not appear on our books, as he doesn’t fit the criteria for placement at Hardwick House, but you’ll have noticed that he is severely autistic and so appears as a sundry expense on our accounts.’

‘What is the criteria for a placement here?’ Kim asked. She would get to the post in a little while. First she wanted to understand what had drawn Alex to this particular facility.

‘First-time offence and genuine remorse for the crime.

Look, do you mind if we talk outside? I’m working on something.’

Kim followed out of the back door. A Jawa 500 speedway bike lay injured on the ground.

‘You ride speedway?’

His face tensed. ‘Used to, but a bit too much broadsiding into bends shot my knee to bits.’

A mixture of emotions emanated from him: sadness, regret, longing. The sport had obviously been important to him.

He sat on the tarpaulin that covered the ground and protected the bike from the wet grass. Kim took a white plastic patio chair.

‘Nice bike,’ she offered.

He offered her a ‘what do you know’ kind of smile.

‘So, what exactly does this place offer?’ she asked.

‘Reintegration into modern society, primarily. I challenge you to name me one thing that has remained unchanged in the last ten years.’

Kim thought for a moment. ‘Corned beef.’

David turned with a bemused look on his face. ‘What?’

‘Well, with all the advances in technology, why is there still that godforsaken key attached to the bottom of the tin that invariably snaps when you wind it around?’

David laughed out loud.

‘Seriously, why has no one ever addressed the problem?’

David sat back down, his face relaxed. ‘You know, I can see your point.’ He paused and met her gaze. Kim saw a spark of attraction in his eyes and was tempted to look away, but she held her ground.

‘What’s your story, Detective Inspector? How did you get to be a police officer?’

No way was that happening. However much at ease she was. ‘I like putting bad people away.’

‘Okay, that’s the end of that conversation. Now would you like to tell me why you’re here?’

Kim looked around to see Dougie walk out of the back door and in again. David ignored it.

‘Have you been to see Barry?’

David looked pained. ‘Yeah. He’s still on life support.’

‘Did you have any idea that he was going to see his ex-wife?’

David shook his head. ‘No, and if I had I would have discouraged it immediately. I just don’t get the sudden change in him. He seemed eager to move forward and make a new life for himself.’

That didn’t sound like a man ready to kill his family, Kim thought to herself.

‘I have to say, Doctor Thorne was pretty spectacular in keeping him talking for as long as she did, don’t you think?’

David nodded and lowered his eyes. He still had not touched anything on the bike, just looked at it a lot.

‘You must be pleased to have such a well-respected psychiatrist on your staff here?’

‘She’s not here in any official capacity,’ he clarified.

‘Oh, I don’t understand.’ Kim had guessed as much but she wanted to hear the story.

‘Alex came to us about eighteen months ago, after the death of her husband and two sons. They’d been killed by a drink-driver, a first-time offender who received a prison sentence of five years for taking three lives. She knew all about our philosophy of helping first-time offenders and she said it would be cathartic if she could actually help people like the man that had killed her family.’

Clearly this lie was one of her favourites. ‘And you were happy with that?’

‘Have you heard of looking a gift horse in the mouth?’

Kim wasn’t sure that was a direct answer.

Dougie wandered out and back into the kitchen, twice.

‘He’s heard Alex’s name. He has remarkable hearing. He worships her. When she’s here he follows her constantly.’

That Alex hadn’t found some way to exploit that yet was a mystery to Kim.

‘You obviously hold a great deal of respect for her.’

‘She is a very accomplished and renowned psychiatrist.’

Still no actual agreement, just a statement of fact. This conversation was turning into a dance and Kim wasn’t sure who was leading whom.

‘Hmm … I think it says something special about her if she’s willing to dedicate her time to the cause for no payment, don’t you?’

‘I think anyone that dedicates their time to …’

‘Jesus, will you just give me a straight answer?’

Kim had decided she would lead.

‘Your answers to my questions are so well phrased so as not to commit yourself to an opinion that you’re going to need a doctor to get the splinters out your ass.’

‘I didn’t realise this was an interrogation.’

‘It’s a conversation, David.’

‘Do I need a lawyer?’

His eyes were light green and intense.

‘Only for crimes against directness.’

He smiled. ‘What exactly do you want to know?’

‘Why you have doubts about either the capability or practice of Doctor Alexandra Thorne.’

‘Who said that I do?’

‘One single post in an obscure chat room Mr DaiHard137.’

David sat back in his chair. ‘It was a while ago.’

‘Didn’t get the response you were expecting, eh?’

‘I wasn’t anticipating any particular response. It was a simple question.’

‘But why?’

‘Why is it important to you?’

This man was infuriating. There was something here in this place and Kim just needed to find it.

‘Would it surprise you to know that her family didn’t die in a car accident, because they never existed?’

David frowned. ‘How do you know that? Why would she make it up?’

‘I know because I’ve confronted her about it and she’s admitted that she was never married. Why is a totally different question, but there is evidence to suggest she’s been manipulating her patients into carrying out actions that they would not normally do.’

Dougie came into the garden and stared at her for a few seconds before leaving again.

‘You need to keep your voice down. He’s getting agitated.’

Kim nodded her understanding and lowered her voice. ‘I have no direct proof of anything I’m saying to you, but I think you feel that something isn’t quite right either. Am I right?’

David was thoughtful. ‘I don’t think I have anything useful to offer. I’m struggling to believe what you’re saying and yet I’ve never been completely comfortable around her. There is something almost remote in Alex; she deals in emotion but doesn’t seem to fully understand it. But if you saw my question in the chatroom, then you saw the response from people she has treated.’

Kim nodded, feeling deflated. There was nothing here after all. David just had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right with the doctor but he had no actual proof of her efforts to manipulate vulnerable people.

‘If what you say is right, what do you think she’s capable of?’

‘From what I’ve learned, she’s capable of anything she puts her mind to. My only problem is that I have no idea how to stop her.’

Disappointment flowed through her. She would never be able to prove this woman’s involvement in the death of Allan Harris, never mind expose any other crimes she may have been a party to.

It was time for her to leave, but she had one question left to ask. ‘David, I can’t help wondering why you’ve been sitting beside that bike for fifteen minutes now and you haven’t touched a thing. Anything I can do?’

He shook his head dismissively. ‘Umm … no offence but the mechanical characteristics of a speedway motorbike are a little out of …’

‘Oh, is that because they have only one gear and no brakes?’

His tone grated on her nerves. Uncharacteristically, she’d been trying to be helpful. Now she had his attention.

‘Or is it because the use of methanol as a fuel allows for increased compression ratio to the engine, producing more power than other fuels, giving higher speeds when cornering? Or …’

‘Will you marry me?’ David asked.

‘Now do you want to tell me what the problem is?’

‘She’s just not starting. I normally turn her over every couple of months but this time she’s not having any of it.’

Kim thought for a moment. ‘Could be the starter motor shorting out. Before spending money on new parts, try running an earthing strip from the starter motor casing to the frame.’

‘You have no idea just how aroused I am right now.’

Kim laughed out loud but was prevented from replying by the presence of Dougie standing beside her. Very gently, he reached down and touched her left hand.

‘Dougie …’ David warned, meeting her questioning eyes. ‘He never touches people.’

Him and me both, Kim thought.

‘It’s okay,’ she said. His skin was cool and soft. He slipped his large hand inside her much smaller one and still didn’t look at her.

A single tear had rolled down his cheek. Kim looked to David for guidance. He shrugged, clearly unsure of this changed behaviour.

Dougie’s grip was firm as he tugged at her hand. Kim detected no malice or danger, just a gentle sadness.

She spoke quietly. ‘Do you want me to come with you, Dougie?’

He nodded while still looking up and to the left.

Kim stood and let him guide her through the kitchen and hallway. His grip on her hand was firm but not threatening. David frowned but followed.

‘Dougie, what are you doing?’ David asked, as the three of them mounted the stairs to the first floor.

He didn’t answer but continued to move forward purposefully. He turned the door handle to his room and pushed the door open.

‘Dougie, you know that ladies aren’t allowed into the rooms.’

Dougie loosed her hand as she stepped inside. His room was similar to that of a twelve-year-old. Posters of fast cars were pinned to the wall at the exact same height around the room. His bed was a three-quarter, covered with a racing car quilt. One shelf was full of Top Gear DVDs. A framed photo of one of the presenters sat on his bedside cabinet. Kim turned to David who shrugged.

‘He loves Jeremy Clarkson, what can I say?’

The shelf beneath the DVDs housed a collection of exercise books. Some were inexpensive flimsy books found in stationery stores and others were ring binders with colourful patterns on the front.

‘He loves writing books. The cheap ones are from me and the others are presents. He doesn’t use them, he just likes having them.’

Dougie stamped his foot twice at David’s words, obviously displeased. Kim saw a pencil tucked behind the photo frame.

‘Are you sure he doesn’t use them?’