Requiem (65 page)

‘Another ten.’

Schenker snorted with contempt. ‘Offer her one thousand and if she’s not interested tell her to go and jump.’

‘What, call her bluff?’

‘Why not?’

‘She might spill it to the newspapers.’

‘So? What’s the bottom line? There’s no link to us, is there? She has no idea who contributed the funds, does she?’

‘No. Oh no, none at all. But Driscoll?’

Schenker fixed Cramm with a telling gaze, and spread his hands in an expressive gesture of helplessness. Cramm read the message and for an instant looked slightly shocked.

Schenker glanced hastily at his watch and made for the door. Cramm got to it first and slid it open.

Schenker paused half-way through. ‘No, we’ve done all we can for Driscoll. If the girl talks, he’s on his own.’

Only eight minutes to go. On his way back to his bathroom to recomb his hair, Schenker buzzed through to his secretary to make sure she’d got the Concorde booking. His urge to renew his acquaintance with the cola magnate was growing by the moment.

Daisy followed Campbell out of the solicitor’s office, and they stood for a moment looking down on Oban.

Campbell took a dark backward glance at the solid façade of the office, as if to check that he was really free of the law, albeit temporarily, then set off down the street at a brisk pace. Daisy ran to catch up as Campbell led the way down towards the harbour and into a solid hotel on the waterfront.

The lounge bar was gloomy but clean and uncrowded. Daisy ordered toast, marmalade and strong coffee.

‘Well?’ she asked when they were alone. ‘Care to tell me about it?’

Campbell gave a solid grunt and for a while she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Finally he declared: ‘Wrong.
Wrong
.’

‘Are you saying you didn’t do it?’

He shot her an angry look.

‘Assault’s a serious charge,’ she pointed out. ‘You could get a custodial sentence, you know. You were lucky to get bail.’

‘I only tapped her.’

‘Blimey, Campbell, a
woman
. Despite everything they’re still meant to be
different
, you know. And a health professional! That makes her untouchable, Campbell, as close to sainthood as you can get without running for pope.
And
on official business …’ She sighed: ‘I won’t go on.’

He was silent.

The waitress brought the coffee and toast.

She pushed him: ‘Well?’

He looked angry again, then his expression relaxed into something more neutral and he gathered himself to speak. ‘She struck him,’ he said very slowly, to give it emphasis, ‘she struck Adrian.’

Daisy settled slowly back in her chair and clasped her hands around her cup as if for warmth. ‘From the beginning. Please.’

His mouth contorted with the exertion of memory. ‘They said they were sendin’ somebody – ’

‘They?’

‘The social services. They said they were sendin’ someone to look at Adrian,’ he began hesitantly. ‘They didna’ say it was a – psycho
therapist
. No mention of that, och no.’ He gave a caustic snort. ‘We thought mebbe it was going to be some expert. Aye, we thought mebbe that they had found someone who could help. We were taken aback when this woman appeared. Och, not because she was a woman,’ he added quickly, casting a defensive eye in Daisy’s direction, ‘but because of her manner. Very grand, she was, very cool. We were nothin’ to her, she left us in no doubt o’ that – hardly merited a civil word. She wouldna’ answer questions, och no. Too high for that, she was. She requested we leave the room – she wanted to see Adrian alone, she said. There was no mention of bein’ a psycho
therapist
, nothin’ about what she’d come for. Not a shaft of politeness or consideration. Kept repeatin’ she wanted to see Adrian alone.’ For someone who normally kept things short, Campbell was doing well, stringing his sentences together with only the slightest pauses, though the effort had brought his brows low over his eyes. ‘I should have had a notion, of course. I should have seen …’ He gave a harsh sigh and, draining his coffee, looked towards the bar with transparent longing.

‘Go on.’

He dragged his gaze back to her. ‘Aye, well, we left her with Adrian for the time she wanted. Mebbe forty-five minutes – which was all too long for the lad, as you know. He can no’ manage the talkin’, not for that time. Och, lookin’ back’ – he took a great hissing suck of breath – ‘like lambs, we were. Doin’ her biddin’. Waitin’ for her word from on high. Ha! When I think …’ He gave a short bitter laugh. ‘Well, finally she comes out, cool as you please, an’ says she wants to talk to the two of us for a wee while. It was not a request, do you see, but an order. We agree right enough – we thought she would be tellin’ us somethin’. But she says nothin’ about Adrian, och no, she hadna’ come to talk on a level with the likes of Meg an’ me. She had
other
business, do you see? She begins pokin’ her nose around. She asks about Meg an’ her marriage an’ the death of Jamie – Adrian’s father. Then … then, if you please …’ A pressure built up behind his face, his cheeks expanded and his voice, when it came, was tight and raw. ‘She asks about Meg an’ me. She wants to know how we get on, the two of us. If we spend time together. If we’re close …’ He blinked down at the table in dumb outrage, unable to meet Daisy’s eyes. ‘Brother an’ sister! Brother an’ sister. Och, I mebbe slow, but not that slow,’ he cried, tapping the side of his head with a great squared-off finger. ‘I could see the way her evil mind was workin’. I asked her straight out what kind of a doctor she was. We have the truth then. She’s no doctor, she says, she’s this psycho
therapist
. Ha! I could have murdered her – ’ He clawed his hands. ‘Her wicked mind had no place in that house, no place!’ Calming himself, he narrowed his eyes and raised a finger. ‘But I didna’ let her see a sight of that. I didna’ give her the satisfaction. No, I kept myself still, I said nothin’ of my thoughts!’

‘Then?’

‘She was gone.’

‘Just like that?’

‘Eh?’ He shifted heavily in his seat. ‘Well … I told her there was no point in makin’ another visit.’ He pulled his shoulders back grandly. ‘I told her Adrian was not in need of her kind of attention.’

‘So she left?’

‘Aye. But not for long. She was back just three days later, an’ with no warnin’. I was away on the loch, I didna’ hear until too late. An’ this time, she brought another social worker. Och, but it was well planned, there’s no doubt of that. The other woman, she was come to keep an eye on Meg, to make certain she stayed away while the dirty business was done. While the
person
’ – he put a wealth of feeling into the word – ‘had Adrian to herself. An’ she had him to herself a long while – an hour, mebbe more – and when she left …’ His shoulders rocked slightly, like a fighter’s squaring up to an opponent. ‘When she left, Adrian was broken,
broken
. Quiet an’ wouldna’ speak. An’ that night – aye, he wept, wept like a babby. I saw him, but I couldna’ get a thing out of him, he was that upset.’

During this last speech he had been getting increasingly restless and now, with what might have been a wave of apology, he lumbered to his feet and went to the bar. He came back with a large Scotch undiluted by water.

He took a quick gulp, his hand twitched, his eyes seemed to brighten. He went on: ‘I had no doubts then. I told Meg that this
person
was to be locked out, that she was never again to enter the house. But Meg – she didna’ see the sense of that. She said we would do best to make no complaint, not until we had good reason.’ He pulled at his drink again and continued at what for him was breakneck speed. ‘Good reason … Aye, well there was only one way to find good reason. I took the loan of a portable telephone device – you know? – so that Meg could call an’ tell me when they returned. An’ they returned soon enough. A week, it was, to the day. I went straight to the parlour door and opened it – slow, slow – just a crack at first, an’ listened. I couldna’ hear Adrian – he wasna’ speakin’ – but I could hear
her
well enough. Aye, every word, every single evil word there was to hear. An’ I heard other things too,’ he said, his voice rough and low.

He paused and rubbed a hand mercilessly across his closed eyes so that it seemed he must do them damage. ‘I didna’ realize at first – what the sound could be. But then – aw – I knew,’ he said.

Daisy waited.

‘Strikin’ him. She was strikin’ him.’

The doubt must have shown in Daisy’s face because he repeated emphatically: ‘Strikin’ him, aye. Slow, regular, like some –
machine
. You’re not ill, Adrian, she says –
tak
– you know you’re not ill –
tak
– ’ With each sound he swung his open palm softly through the air, in a wide slapping motion. ‘You’re not ill, Adrian –
tak
– tell me you’re not ill, go on, tell me –
tak
.’

Daisy stared at him, reading the signals in his face. Everything told her it was true; everything warned her it must be an exaggeration.

‘It was not the entire time, och no, she had a rest now an’ again, to give her time to put other notions in his head. It’s attention you want, isn’t it, she says, it’s attention you want, isn’t it, Adrian? – I heard each an’ every word, each an’
every
one. You’re tryin’ to punish your father for havin’ died, she says. You’re angry with him, aren’t you, Adrian?’ He had raised his voice in a savage imitation of a woman’s voice. ‘You’re angry that he’s not here for you to tell him how angry you are. You’re angry at your mammy for letting your uncle take his place.’ He broke off and dropped his head for a moment. Daisy gave a sudden shudder.

‘That’s why you want to be ill, isn’t it, Adrian?’ he began again, coming up slowly. ‘But you’re
not
ill, Adrian, an’ it’s time you told me so. Now, tell me you’re not ill, Adrian, tell me … Then …’ His voice lowered, trembling with anger. ‘Then I heard it again, the sound, the
sound
.
Tak, tak!
An’ I went in an’ I saw …’ He sank the last of his Scotch in one gulp. He said flatly: ‘I went in an’ I saw what she was doin’, an’ I struck her right back. An’ I tell you – there’s not an ounce of regret in ma body.’

‘You’re not going to tell the judge that, I hope.’

He frowned and was silent.

‘Where was she hitting Adrian?’

‘The cheek. Here.’ He put a hand to his face.

‘Was he bruised? Were there marks?’

His mouth moved uncertainly. He looked at her with sudden suspicion. ‘Red. The skin was red.’

Daisy sighed. ‘Striking is a strong word.’

Campbell, putting a treacherous interpretation on this, became aggressive. ‘An’ what would you have me use?’

‘Were they perhaps nearer to taps or light slaps?’

‘Good God!’ His eyes bulged with rage and she was reminded of how very frightening Campbell could be. ‘Are you tellin’ me this word or that would make it right?’

‘Nothing would make it right. Don’t misunderstand me. Even if she hadn’t touched Adrian, it would still have been appalling.’

‘Well then, taps, slaps – what’s the difference?’

‘With you, quite a bit, apparently. You said you just tapped the psychotherapist, but she ended up with a badly bruised eye. I’m just trying to get our vocabulary straight.’

Campbell hunched his shoulders and tried to look penitent. ‘Well … Perhaps I put a mite more force behind it than I intended,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘Will it count against me?’

But he asked it more out of hope than expectation. He knew very well that it would count against him. What worried Daisy was the other ways in which it might count against not only him but Adrian Bell and his mother as well.

‘I think we should get straight back to Dermott’s,’ she said.

He did not look thrilled at the idea of seeing his solicitor again so soon. ‘For what reason?’

‘We might have to think about protecting Adrian.’

Expressions of alarm, perplexity and suspicion crossed Campbell’s face in rapid succession. ‘Protection? From what?’ But before he had the chance to ask again, she had gone to the desk and paid the bill and was leading the way out into the street. It was how the social services might be taking all this that worried her, she explained as she set a rapid pace up the hill; how they could argue that Campbell’s presence constituted a bad influence. At this, Campbell, with a certain predictability, ground to a halt and protested violently.

‘I’m just telling you what they might be thinking,’ Daisy argued quietly.

She painted the picture even more strongly then: how they might consider taking Adrian into care, how they could apply for a place of safety order on the grounds that Adrian’s physical health was in danger from lack of essential medical treatment, or that his emotional health was in danger from unsuitable home influences, or both of these. Overriding Campbell’s further explosions of rage, she told him how, unless Scottish law was dramatically different from English, the order could be granted in the absence of family representation, without anyone knowing anything about it – not until the police and social services arrived unannounced on the doorstep, and how Campbell and his sister would be powerless to prevent Adrian from being removed.

For a time Campbell fell into a furious inarticulate silence. ‘They can be prevented?’ he panted finally.

‘I don’t know. I’m not sure what the law allows here. In England a family can start ward of court proceedings. That way the social services can’t do anything until the story’s been heard by a judge. Even then there’re risks – the judge might get talked into allowing some of the medical treatment – ’

Campbell grabbed her arm, ‘Hold it there!
Hold it there!
’ he roared, sending a shower of spittle over her. ‘You’re sayin’, you’re sayin’ …’ It was a moment before he got a grip on his thoughts. ‘You’re sayin’ we should apply to the court just so they can send that
person
back to torture Adrian?’

She grasped his hand and lifted it gently away from her sleeve. ‘Whatever course we take involves risk. But any-thing’s better than having Adrian removed altogether, surely.’

His rage made him speechless. ‘But … Why should they want to take him?’ he said at last in a broken voice.