The Darkest Goodbye (William Lorimer)

Alex Gray was born and educated in Glasgow. After studying English and Philosophy at the University of Strathclyde, she worked as a visiting officer for the DHSS, a time she looks upon as postgraduate education since it proved a rich source of character studies. She then trained as a secondary school teacher of English. Alex began writing professionally in 1992 and had immediate success with short stories, articles and commissions for BBC radio programmes. She has been awarded the Scottish Association of Writers’ Constable and Pitlochry trophies for her crime writing. A regular on the Scottish bestseller lists, her previous novels include
Five Ways to Kill a Man
,
Glasgow Kiss
,
Pitch Black
,
The Riverman
,
Never Somewhere Else
,
The Swedish Girl
and
Keep the Midnight Out
. She is the co-founder of the international Scottish crime writing festival, Bloody Scotland, which had its inaugural year in 2012.

Never Somewhere Else

A Small Weeping

Shadows of Sounds

The Riverman

Pitch Black

Glasgow Kiss

Five Ways to Kill a Man

Sleep Like the Dead

A Pound of Flesh

The Swedish Girl

The Bird That Did Not Sing

Keep the Midnight Out

Table of Contents

• About the Author
  
   
  
• Also by Alex Gray
  
   
  
• COPYRIGHT
  
   
  
• Dedication
  
   
  
• Epigraph
  
   
  
• Prologue
  
   
  
• Chapter One
  
   
  
• Chapter Two
  
   
  
• Chapter Three
  
   
  
• Chapter Four
  
   
  
• Chapter Five
  
   
  
• Chapter Six
  
   
  
• Chapter Seven
  
   
  
• Chapter Eight
  
   
  
• Chapter Nine
  
   
  
• Chapter Ten
  
   
  
• Chapter Eleven
  
   
  
• Chapter Twelve
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirteen
  
   
  
• Chapter Fourteen
  
   
  
• Chapter Fifteen
  
   
  
• Chapter Sixteen
  
   
  
• Chapter Seventeen
  
   
  
• Chapter Eighteen
  
   
  
• Chapter Nineteen
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-One
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Two
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Three
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Four
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Five
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Six
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
   
  
• Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-One
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Two
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Three
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Four
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Five
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Six
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Seven
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Eight
  
   
  
• Chapter Thirty-Nine
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-One
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Two
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Three
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Four
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Five
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Six
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Seven
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Eight
  
   
  
• Chapter Forty-Nine
  
   
  
• Chapter Fifty
  
   
  
• Epilogue
  
   
  
• Acknowledgements
  
   
  

This book is dedicated to Alanna Knight MBE,

my beloved friend

He had to die. That had never been a matter for debate. The body at their feet was bleeding copiously from the stab wounds that had been inflicted. A young man’s life snuffed out, but hey, they were used to things like that by now. Weren’t they?

It had happened quickly at the end, the drug dealer shambling towards them down that hallway, eyes glazed as he’d tried to focus on who was banging on the door of the tenement flat, a look of surprise turning to shock as the first blow had made him sprawl on the carpet. After that it had been easy. Knowing just where to make that fatal cut, letting out the warm blood. Not so easy dragging his thin wasted body into the bathroom. And it could be weeks till anyone came looking for him.

It was also a warning to the others. Loose talk could bring everything crashing around their ears.

The two figures emerged from the dark close mouth into the daylight of one of Glasgow’s busiest thoroughfares, soon merging into the crowds.

Nobody glancing at either of their faces would ever guess that they had just killed a man.

‘Y
ou’re early.’
 

The old woman’s dark eyes narrowed as I entered the room, staring up at my navy blue uniform. Was there suspicion in those clouded eyes? Or was she simply trying to decide if this stranger standing in her bedroom was bringing the pain-killing relief she had craved through another long night?
 

‘Ready for your meds, darling?’ I asked, my laconic shrug and wide smile putting her at ease. ‘Give you a bit of peace, eh?’ I chuckled, inviting her to share in my little joke. She’d soon be at peace all right, enough to last for all eternity.
 

But the patient in the bed did not return my smile and for a split second I wondered if she could possibly have guessed my real intentions.
 

I put down the bag I’d been carrying and lifted out the plastic box containing the medication. Her eyes followed every movement as I unwrapped the sterile syringe and filled it with the contents of the phial. Surely she must be desperate for the release from her constant pain? If she’d had any choice in the fate that I was about to administer, wouldn’t she see me as some sort of angel of mercy? My smile never wavered as I pulled up the sleeve of her nightdress, preparing a patch of wrinkled flesh with an antiseptic wipe.
 

Her head turned away as the needle pierced her arm, a reluctance to see what was happening. Then, as though she knew that sleep was about to follow, her eyelids drooped, her chest rising and falling in one huge sigh.
 

I sat back and waited, watching the faint movement, a gentle rhythm that would soon give way to one final struggle as she gasped for breath. I would continue to sit in this room where the curtains were rarely drawn back until after ten in the morning. Other hands than hers were required for such small acts nowadays; hands like mine, clasped loosely together on my lap as I watched the woman sleeping.
 

It had been easy enough to gain access. A simple matter to turn the key in the lock, the click hardly discernible. It would be returned later, shiny and clean, no traces on its yellow brass to identify me. Anyone happening to look at the figure who had walked into the house would have seen the navy blue jacket, standard uniform for most community nurses these days. It was expected that the old lady at number thirty-three would have someone coming to look after her, though perhaps not at this early hour of a September morning.
 

It would not be long now. I amused myself by imagining the contents of the used syringe travelling through these knotted veins on a journey that would end in the chambers of her heart. A sigh, a rattle, then it would be over. There was no need to stay until the end but something always kept me there, as though this final vigil was a thing that ought to be shared. I’d never had a word from any patient, no whispered ‘thank you’, no look of gratitude from eyes worn out with too much suffering. I’d have hated it if an eyelid had ever flickered; there was an inner need to have these moments of peace when the patient drifted away, mouth slackening, blood cooling as death came with its chill hands to carry them off.
 

All over this city there were silent, seated watchers just like me, waiting for their loved ones to pass over. But the difference between us was that these patients were not my close relatives, never people known intimately, even though I might have smiled at them and called them darling.
 

For a few minutes I turned away and yawned, stretching my arms behind my head, eyes closed for a moment, drifting into a half sleep, musing about Quiet Release
…
When I jolted awake, blinking to stare at the patient, it was only to notice that there was no visible movement from the bed.
 

I clenched my fists in a sudden spasm of annoyance. She’d cheated me, the old bitch! It must have happened in those few seconds when sleep had dimmed my senses – the old woman had stolen away. Aye, death might be a process, the organs shutting down, the body cooling until rigor stiffened it, but there was something exciting about being there for that final intake of breath. And I’d missed it.
 

For one angry moment I was tempted to grab hold of her frail old body and shake it. But the urge passed, leaving me standing beside the bed, fists unclenching as I stooped to pick up the bag from the floor. It was only as I turned to leave that I gave her one last look.
 

‘Goodnight, then, darling,’ I crooned, putting two fingers to my lips and blowing a kiss in the direction of the bed.