Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) (25 page)

Ian’s voice echoed over to her. She paused and cautiously looked back at him.

"
Let’s go back to the car,
"
Ian called out.
"
And I promise I won’t hurt you.
"

Myra studied him for a moment. Not wanting to take her eyes off of him she started walking backwards, away from him.

Ian tried to shield his face from the snowy wind as he raised his gun and aimed directly at her. Myra prepared herself to drop, hopefully before the bullet hit her. As his finger moved to pull the trigger, the ice beneath his feet caved in.

His screams caused Myra to stop. She saw him struggling to pull himself out of the freezing water. The more he panicked the worse it got. The ice continued to break off around him.

Myra turned and started to shuffle away. She stopped.

She could hear his screams on the wind.
Why should she help him? He was going to kill her. Would he show any mercy if the roles were reversed? No, he wouldn’t.
She continued to walk away. Suddenly a series of awful vernaculars that she had seen painted on the New York walls entered her mind.

She found herself crawling on her stomach, distributing her weight across the fragile ice, as she inched her way towards Ian. Myra knew it was insane but she could never live with herself if she allowed a man to die like this. He continued to flail. She called out to him,
"
Stay calm. I’ll be right there.
"

He paused for a moment, surprised to see her.

"
Give me your hand,
"
she shouted.

The arm holding the gun reached out towards her. She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him up.

CRACK!

Myra could feel the ice weakening all around her. She pivoted to give Ian the proper leverage. He pulled himself out of the icy water and without any warning, pulled her headfirst towards the hole!

She found her head submerged under the icy water. She struggled to pull herself up but his grip and his weight held her face beneath the surface. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer.

In that instant, Myra realized she was still gripping on to his gun hand. She frantically twisted his arm and pulled the trigger.

BLAM!

Ian slumped forward, his blood swirling crimson in the icy water. Myra used his body to pull herself out and allowed him to fall back under the ice. He thrashed weakly as he reached out for her.

"
Help me… please…
"

Myra, lying as flat as she could to spread out her weight, looked at him suspiciously for a moment.
Once burned…

Then she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. She reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him towards her. Then she grabbed hold of the locket hanging from his neck.
"
I believe this is mine.
"

She yanked hard on the gold Celtic chain, snapping it, and then released her grip on his hand. She backed away and watched him slip beneath the surface.

She collapsed on the icy pond’s edge and stared at the locket in her hand. As the blizzard raged on around her, she closed her eyes in exhaustion.
Edward. I’ve failed.

Chapter
XXXI

Callum had always hated his grandparents’ century-old home in the outskirts of Glasgow. As he pulled his rental car into the long driveway, it was like stepping back twenty years, when he was last here. As a child he always thought this old house was haunted. The old grey stones always appeared to be weeping, and the ivy on the brick always seemed like an ominous green spider web consuming the house. Now as the sun was setting, the shadows from the jagged roof and stonework seemed to be reaching for him as he walked towards the front porch.

Bloody hell,
he thought. Even the hideous gargoyle with the metal ring in its mouth that used to give him nightmares, was the same. As his hand reached for the odious ring, the door suddenly opened, startling his inner child.

"
What took you so long?
"
Lumina hissed as she stepped out to greet him.

"
Nice to see you too,
"
grumbled Callum. He hadn’t seen much of his sister over the last ten years, and each time they met he remembered why.
"
I was in Edinburgh when you called.
"

"
Well, that’s only an hour away,
"
she said in her patented icy tone.

"
An hour and a half…
"
contradicted Callum.
"
And only if the traffic is good. I still had to rent a car to get here. Normally, I live in London… so expecting me in less time is ludicrous.
"

"
Why did I bother calling you?
"

"
I don’t know but now that I’m here, what’s the big emergency? Did Paul finally get a job?
"

"
Don’t start,
"
snapped Lumina.
"
Just get in here… And take off your filthy boots.
"

Callum nodded and entered. His sister waited
im
patiently as he unlaced his boots and dislodged the mud from the park. Like the house, his sister hadn’t changed much. The years had been kind to her; she still looked tip-top — only her hands seemed to show any signs of aging. He considered making an attempt to say something complimentary or civil. He opened his mouth and asked,
"
So what the hell was so bloody urgent?
"

She stepped aside, and he saw. The wardrobe doors were open, clothes strewn about, books thrown about the room, drawers open and overturned, and knickknacks broken.

"
It’s the same upstairs,
"
Lumina said, her voice shaking.
"
All my personal belongings have been rifled through…
"

"
Is everyone ok? Where are Paul and the kids?
"

"
Paul is fishing with his mates… don’t even start… I called his Mum to get the kids.
"

Callum bit his tongue. He didn’t think much of Paul. They had two kids together but he’d never asked to marry her. Maybe Callum was old-fashioned but he found that shady. Still, it was his sister’s life and he had no right to judge her. He simply asked,
"
Was anything stolen?
"

"
No, that’s what frightens me. Nothing seems to be missing. All the jewelry is there, the stereo has been opened but it’s still there, the telly is there… even Gran’s silver is untouched. It’s as if whoever burgled us was looking for something specific.
"

A fearful thought crawled under Callum’s scalp as he dashed into his Grandfather’s old study. He stopped in the doorway and surveyed the damage. Everything in the room was completely scattered and upturned. Even stones from the fireplace were removed and lay broken on the floor.

Lumina appeared behind him,
"
It’s worse in here.
"

"
Because they started here,
"
Callum said.
"
They didn’t find what they were looking for so they went through the rest of the house.
"

Lumina picked up one of the broken pieces of stone,
"
My god, why vandalize a fireplace?
"

"
To see if there was a hidden compartment or door,
"
replied Callum.

"
Why? What are they looking for?
"

"
Information pertaining to the Agatha Gilcrest murder.
"

"
Don’t be daft!
"
snapped Lumina.
"
That happened so long ago. Why would anyone care about that case?
"

"
Well, one of the witnesses was killed the other night,
"
replied Callum.
"
She died in my arms…
"

"
Did you bring this about?
"
shrieked Lumina.
"
I should have known! My world’s turned upside
down because my good-for-
nothing brother is in town.
"

Callum didn’t blame his sister for being upset and chose to ignore her comment as he continued,
"
Did Granda have any notes or anything at all in regards to that case or the execution of Otto Slade?
"

"
What? No!
"
said Lumina shaking her head.
"
Have you been away that long? Don’t you remember how bitter he was about that ordeal? How Mum tried to get him to talk about it and he always used to say he’d take the truth…
"

"
... to his grave.
"
Callum finished the sentence in unison with his sister.
"
I remember. But there was something more…
"

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Callum peeked out the window and saw the familiar white and orange police car.
"
It’s the police.
"

"
’Bout time,
"
said Lumina.

"
You called the police?
"

"
What else do you do when you’ve been burglarized?
"
asked Lumina as she turned to leave.
"
Besides, you hadn’t arrived yet.
"

Callum quickly looked about the room before Glasgow’s
Glaekits
destroyed any evidence. There was nothing of any value or interest to anyone other than his late grandfather; some personal letters, postcards, books, and a stamp collection. Callum frowned. He didn’t know his grandfather had been a stamp collector. Callum had become one, over the course of his travels.

He sighed. There was nothing official or law enforcement-related. He was surprised his sister kept all this stuff. He supposed she needed to keep something of the past. The rest of the house’s décor had been updated and lived in, but this room was a shrine to her granda. She was always his favourite. Callum knew it as a child and always resented her for it. One of the reasons he never went to the funeral.

"
Seems everywhere you go there’s destruction in your wake,
"
a familiar
,
nasal voice said behind him. Callum turned to see DCI de Kirkhaugh standing in the doorway.

"
What the hell are you doing here?
"

"
A call came in about a burglary. Naturally I thought of you,
"
replied de Kirkhaugh.
"
Then surprise, it’s the old Toughill home. What are the odds?
"

"
Bit out of your jurisdiction, ain’t it?
"

"
No, South Lanarkshire is part of the Strathclyde Police territory. As is Dunbartonshire.
"

"
That’s jolly.
"

"
There is a Miss
Loraine
Kramer who has been reported as missing. Hasn’t been seen in three days. N
ot since you paid a call to her. A
ny idea where she is?
"

"
No… How do you know all this?
"

"
We found your business card at her flat and an appointment written on her wall calendar,
"
replied de Kirkhaugh.

"
You think if I orchestrated some foul play I’d leave my card?
"

"
You’d be surprised what I’ve found left by killers before. Detective Sergeant Milton is investigating it further. You remember him.
"

How could Callum forget the husky gorilla-type officer? He sighed and replied,
"
When I left her she was busy watching her soaps.
"

"
Like I said, you leave disaster in your wake.
"

"
You two know each other?
"
asked Lumina as she led a uniformed constable into the study.

"
Unfortunately,
"
both men replied.

"
Where were you when this happened?
"
de Kirkhaugh asked Callum.

"
My brother would have nothing to do with this!
"