Chapter 34
SATURDAY
Saturday morning light filtered through the curtains of Brodie’s flat in Leith, softer than the harsh weekday alarm clock routine. He woke gradually, aware of Ruth’s breathing beside him, the quiet comfort of a weekend morning with nowhere urgent to be.
Except he did have somewhere to be. The case never really left him, even on Saturday mornings. David Duffy was still missing, and somewhere The Embalmer was planning his next move, painting the next installation in his grotesque art.
Work was calling, but he would be there in a little while. For now, it was a quiet breakfast on an early Saturday morning.
He slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Ruth yet, and padded to the kitchen in bare feet.
Their flat overlooked the Forth, Fife in the distance.
It was a nice flat, nicer than anything Brodie had lived in during his years as a bachelor copper, and he was still getting used to the idea that this was home, that Ruth had made it home.
He started breakfast – nothing fancy, just bacon and eggs, toast, the Saturday morning fry-up that was his one consistent culinary achievement.
The smell of cooking bacon drifted through the flat, and within minutes he heard Ruth stirring, the familiar sounds of her waking up and making her way to the bathroom.
By the time she appeared in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in her dressing gown with her dark hair sleep-tousled, Brodie had plates ready and was pouring tea.
‘You’re spoiling me,’ Ruth said, kissing his cheek and settling at the small kitchen table.
‘It’s Saturday. I’m allowed to spoil you on Saturdays. Even though I have to work and you don’t.’
‘Oh, aren’t you hard done by?’ She laughed. ‘I have to go grocery shopping later, and believe me, I’d rather be working.’
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the kind of companionable quiet that came from years of knowing each other, of not needing to fill every moment with conversation.
‘You’re thinking about the case,’ Ruth observed, not looking up from her eggs.
‘That obvious?’
‘You get this expression. Like you’re somewhere else entirely, just going through the motions of breakfast.’ She looked up at him, her green eyes sharp despite the early hour. ‘Want to talk about it?’
Brodie set down his fork. ‘We’re missing something. I can feel it, right there at the edge of my mind, but I can’t quite grasp it. Every time I think I’m close, it slips away.’
‘Tell me what you know. Sometimes talking it through helps.’
So Brodie laid it out – the bodies on the beaches seven years ago, the sudden reappearance of similar murders now, the meticulous staging of each death.
‘And Kane,’ Brodie said, his voice dropping slightly. ‘Gabriel Kane, sitting in the Royal Edinburgh, telling me that I’m the reason The Embalmer came back. That my return to Fife triggered something.’
Ruth was quiet for a moment, processing. ‘Kane’s brilliant, but he’s also manipulative. He could be telling the truth, or he could be playing games, trying to get inside your head.’
‘Yes.’ Brodie pushed his plate away, appetite gone. ‘Because what if he’s right? What if The Embalmer really did come back because of me, because I returned to Fife and somehow that set things in motion? Then every death from this point forward is at least partially my fault.’
‘That’s not how responsibility works, and you know it,’ Ruth said firmly. ‘Killers make choices. They choose to kill. You didn’t force anyone to commit murder, Liam. You’re just trying to stop them.’
‘I know. Logically, I know that. But logic doesn’t always help at three in the morning when you’re lying awake thinking about bodies arranged on beaches.’
Ruth reached across the table and took his hand. ‘You’ll catch him. You always do. And when you do, it won’t matter what Gabriel Kane said or didn’t say. What matters is stopping a killer before anyone else dies.’
They finished breakfast and cleared away the dishes together. Ruth suggested a walk, and Brodie agreed immediately – getting out of the flat, out of his own head, seemed like exactly what he needed.
The morning was warm and breezy. They walked down to the waterfront, following the path until they came to Newhaven Lighthouse. A strong wind came in off the sea, but it felt brisk, and Brodie thought it was helping to make him focus on the problem at hand.
‘I can’t wait until we can go back to Spain,’ Ruth said, linking her arm through his. ‘Maybe next spring? A week in Málaga, just the two of us. No murders, no cases, no mobile phones going off in the middle of the night.’
‘That sounds perfect,’ Brodie said, meaning it. They’d had a holiday in Spain, spent a glorious week on the Costa del Sol doing absolutely nothing except eating good food and lying on the beach. ‘We could stay at that same hotel, the one with the balcony overlooking the sea.’
‘And we could actually relax this time, instead of you checking your messages every five minutes because you were convinced something terrible would happen while you were away.’ Ruth’s tone was teasing but affectionate.
‘I wasn’t that bad.’
‘You were exactly that bad. But I love you anyway.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘I just want to feel the sun again, you know? Wade in the sea, get sand between my toes, read terrible novels and drink sangria at lunch.’
Brodie looked at her so abruptly that Ruth stumbled slightly.
‘What? What is it?’
‘What did you just say?’
Ruth looked confused. ‘About sangria? I know it’s not sophisticated, but—’
‘No, before that. About the sand.’
‘Getting sand between my toes?’ Ruth’s confusion deepened. ‘Liam, what’s wrong?’
But Brodie’s mind was racing, pieces suddenly clicking into place with almost audible precision. Sand between the toes. Sand. Beach.
‘That’s it,’ Brodie breathed. ‘Christ, that’s it. There’s been something hovering just outside my mind, something I couldn’t quite grasp. Now I know what it is.’
‘Know what? Liam, you’re not making sense.’
But Brodie was already pulling out his mobile, his hands moving with urgent purpose. ‘I have to go. I have to call Lucy. Ruth, I’m sorry, but this is important—’
‘It’s fine, let’s go. Whatever you’ve just figured out, go.’
They hurried back to the flat, Brodie’s mind churning through implications and connections. Inside, he grabbed his jacket and keys while simultaneously trying to call Lucy. The phone rang four times, then went to voicemail.
‘Lucy, it’s Brodie. Call me as soon as you get this. It’s urgent.’
He tried again. Still no answer.
‘She’s not picking up,’ Brodie said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. ‘I need to talk to her about something. See if she remembers the same as me. If she even saw it.’
‘Maybe she went out last night?’ Ruth asked. ‘Maybe she’s still asleep, or her phone’s on silent.’
‘Maybe.’ But something about Lucy not answering bothered Brodie, a small nagging worry that he pushed aside. They all knew that they had to be available seven days a week when they were dealing with a murder.
But he remembered Gabriel Kane’s words as they had sat in the interview room in the hospital, about how he, Brodie, was the reason The Embalmer had come back, and how Brodie was in danger.
Brodie knew then. Knew that Lucy wasn’t having a lie-in.
She had been taken by The Embalmer.
It was his way of getting to Brodie.
He tried Breck next, and the detective superintendent answered on the second ring.
‘Liam. Please tell me this is good news about David Duffy.’
‘Not about Duffy, but about the case. Sir, I need you to do something for me.’ He told the boss what he wanted. ‘I’m on my way over.’
‘I’ll find out in a few minutes and call you with the details,’ Breck said. ‘But listen, I’m coming with you. I’ll meet you there.’
‘No problem.’ Truth be told, Brodie was happy about having backup. If he was right, if his memory served him correctly and he hadn’t just been trying to fit puzzle pieces into where they didn’t belong, then they were going to meet The Embalmer for the first time.
Except Brodie knew this wasn’t the first time. This was a man who was infinitely more dangerous than Dr Gabriel Kane.
But Kane had been right: this was personal. Brodie knew he was meant to go over to Fife and confront the man, and the killer had taken an insurance policy to make sure he appeared.
As he floored the car, he was acutely aware that when he had kissed Ruth goodbye, it might have been goodbye forever.