‘DI Callanach,’ she said, adopting a superficially demure air before her coworker. Only Callanach could hear the mockery in her voice. ‘How nice to meet you.’ Astrid held out her right hand to shake his. He stared at it as if she were offering him a slab of maggot-infested meat. He hadn’t been able to tolerate anyone touching him, however fleetingly or well meant, since she’d accused him of rape. Now the thought of Astrid’s flesh making contact with his made him feel physically ill.
‘I’ll need to talk with you privately,’ he said, his voice hoarse, fighting his disbelief.
‘Certainly,’ she replied sweetly, ‘anywhere you like.’ Astrid beamed at the woman she shared an office with as if she’d been given the rest of the week off. Callanach stepped back to let her through the doorway without giving her an excuse to touch him.
‘Down the stairs, ground floor, far end of the corridor to the right,’ Callanach said, keeping his eyes in front, counting his breaths to combat the light-headedness that was blurring his vision. Astrid took her time on the stairs, greeting every person who passed them with a cheery hello. Callanach could feel the muscles in his shoulders and back seizing up with every passing step. It was all he could do not to scream at her to hurry.
‘Are we not going to your office?’ she asked, sugary and compliant. Her voice grated inside his head like vuvuzela at a football match.
‘No,’ he said, walking ahead down the final corridor, and opening the interview room door. ‘And we’re talking in English only. No French. I’m not prepared to lose time with allegations that we’ve had any improper conversations.’ He pulled a chair out from under the table and motioned for her to sit. Callanach punched buttons on the monitoring system, setting both video and audio recording in motion. Astrid slid her hands across the table to within a centimetre of his, flashing a bright smile.
‘Luc, this is an interview suite. I don’t understand what the problem is. And why the machines? Just ask me whatever it is you want to know.’
‘I want to know what you’re doing here,’ he said, endeavouring to keep his voice unthreatening. It shook with the effort.
‘I work here,’ she said. ‘I have not been hiding. I even sent down some time sheets you hadn’t filled in properly. My initials were on the note. Unfortunately, you sent one of your boys to sort it out. Sloppy not to get your paperwork right. Your standards must be slipping.’ Astrid played with a lock of hair that had fallen across her face. Another man might have thought it alluring. What Callanach saw was a viper planning her next strike.
‘I meant, what are you doing in Scotland? There’s an injunction, Astrid, a court order to prevent you from coming near me. You’re not allowed to have any contact at all.’
‘Only in France, silly. That injunction ceased to have any effect once you left the country. And you didn’t get another one here, so I’m not restrained any more. That’s how you wanted it, no? You came here so we could have a new start?’ She touched his hand. Callanach reacted as if a scorpion had crawled on his skin. He kicked his chair away and backed off to lean against the far wall.
‘I didn’t come to Scotland for you to follow me. I came because you ruined my life in France. You took everything – my career, friendships, reputation. How the hell did you get this job?’
‘Interpol was not entitled to write anything about it on my reference. It was not relevant to my professional conduct. I was a victim who had felt unable to go ahead with a trial. If that had prevented me getting this job, I’d have been entitled to sue them. And my immediate superior at Interpol had no idea you were here. I actually think the bitch was pleased I was leaving, so I’m sure she wrote me a glowing reference.’
‘That doesn’t explain why no one here realised who you were. They did a full background check. I disclosed everything.’
‘You were never convicted – in fact you were legally declared not guilty of any wrong-doing. The administrative system does not cross-reference the names of employees in such circumstances, especially given that I only applied here after your posting had been finalised. And your boss who worked so hard to get you this job presumably arranged to keep all the paperwork nice and clean on your behalf.’
‘You had no right to follow me here and you know it.’
‘Luc, darling …’ She stood up and began to step around the table.
‘Sit down,’ he ordered.
‘Am I under arrest?’ she asked.
‘You’re being questioned.’
‘Then caution me,’ she teased, undoing her top button and flicking her hair, but she sat. ‘I don’t understand why you’re so angry. I decided against giving evidence.’
‘Not until the day before the trial. I lost months of my life! My own mother can’t bear to talk to me any more. And the worst thing is that I don’t believe you ever intended to go through with the fucking trial. You just wanted to destroy everything I had!’ Callanach’s hands were fists in his pockets.
‘I saved you. You really shouldn’t be telling me off.’ Her eyes were huge and teary.
‘It was a lie, Astrid. Every bit of it was a lie. I didn’t rape you, we didn’t have sex. How can you possibly think you saved me?’ Callanach was at shouting point. A curious officer put his face to the glass in the door to check what was happening. Callanach nodded at him and he walked away.
‘You’d have been in prison now if it weren’t for me. Is that what you’d have preferred? Ten years of shitty food and dirty, stinking men for company. How long do you think you’d have lasted?’ Astrid was angry. At least that one emotion was real, Callanach thought. ‘I made sure you were released so we could move past the unpleasantness and start again. That’s why your choice to move elsewhere in Europe was so perfect. We both speak English, we both have transferrable skills.’
‘Please, stop!’ Callanach’s hands were over his eyes. ‘Astrid, listen, you need help. I know this is hard for you but we don’t have a relationship, we never have. You can’t keep doing this.’
‘You’re so kind, Luc. You’ve always been kind. No one else sees it but me. We are destined to be together. When I’m with you, the pain inside me goes away. That’s why I came after you. I feel how much you love me and I know it’s scary, but I can be strong enough for us both.’
‘How did you think this was going to turn out?’ he asked. ‘Were you planning on just walking into my office one day and throwing yourself at me?’
‘I had already let you know I was here. I sent you champagne. Nothing but the best. And roses like the ones that grew at the Parc de la Tête d’Or in Lyon where you used to run every lunchtime.’
‘That was you? We assumed … never mind. At least it makes sense now. But I want to know everything. No more games.’ He changed tack.
Astrid considered it. ‘What do you want me to say?’
‘Just the truth,’ he said. ‘There has to be honesty between us if you want me back. Only you could have thought so carefully about the things I like. The roses were stunning and they did remind me of home.’
Her face darkened. It was like watching a storm roll in.
‘Only me, Luc, or has there been someone else?’
‘No one else,’ he said, sitting down again.
‘Liar!’ she shrieked. ‘I saw you with her. I watched you flirting. And I saw the way she looked at you. Did you share my champagne with her? Did you give her the flowers I sent you?’
‘I don’t know who you’re talking about, Astrid.’
‘Yes, you do,’ she spat.
Callanach was making headway. ‘No, honestly, I don’t. There’s been no one since you.’
She grinned at him and it was like teetering on the edge of an abyss.
‘You’re playing me,’ she said. ‘I know what you want me to say, Luc, and I’m not going to. No one since us? I thought there had never been an “us”. I thought you’d scuttled here like some big, fat, nasty spider hiding under a rug to get away from me. You want me to say her name. I’m not going to.’
Callanach checked his watch. He’d tried his best with her, but having a personality disorder wasn’t the same as having a low IQ. He would need a lot more time to get her to admit what she’d done and the clock was stealing minutes Ava didn’t have.
‘Did you send DI Turner the death threat?’ he asked plainly. The emotion dropped out of her face.
‘I want a lawyer,’ she said.
‘Did you abduct her?’
‘I’m not answering any more questions.’ Astrid buttoned her shirt back up dramatically, crossed her arms and stared at the desk.
Callanach considered the lengths she’d gone to. It took a peculiar state of mind to pursue someone so far and with so much passion. She would keep the game going as long as he was here to play it. The only way to win was to deprive her completely of her goal.
‘All right,’ he said, ‘but I’m busy. We have sufficient grounds to question you further. I have more important matters to attend to, though. Wait here. I’ll get a constable to conduct the interview. You won’t have any further dealings with me.’ He walked to the door.
‘Stop,’ she said. ‘You stop right there. You’re just going to walk out, after everything?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I have priorities.’
‘You bastard,’ Astrid hissed. ‘Priorities? You think you can find Ava Turner without me? Within two hours you’ll be begging for my help.’ Her face was snarled, twisted. As much as Callanach longed to race back in, grab her by the neck and wring the information out of her, he knew it wouldn’t work like that.
‘Like I said, I’m very busy. I’ll have an officer with you soon. In the meantime, I’ll send the custody sergeant to process and caution you.’ He let the door swing shut.
A few seconds later he heard the latch go. He was halfway up the corridor when Astrid began yelling.
‘Fuck you. I saw him take your precious Detective Inspector Turner. He’ll kill her. You get back here right now or her blood will be on your hands.’
Callanach turned, moving back down the corridor towards Astrid, stopping opposite the interview room door, leaning against the wall and staring in. ‘Where?’ he asked her through the open doorway. ‘Where did you see this?’
‘I’m saying nothing until you come back into this room,’ Astrid screeched.
‘Give me some facts so I know I can believe you, or I’ll make sure you never see me again.’
‘I followed you after work,’ she said. ‘You went to that professor’s house, the one your girlfriend is so keen on. I waited all night for you to come out but you didn’t. You stayed pandering to that stupid woman, making a fuss about those little notes. And yes, I know all about the case. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t have friends inside this police station.’
‘I don’t give a damn who you’re friendly with. I want to know why you stood by and did nothing while a police officer was being abducted!’ Callanach growled.
‘I had no idea it was Turner until he pulled her out of the car.’
Callanach moved through the doorway so fast that Astrid had no time to brace. He pulled her against him, gripping her upper arm with one hand, raising the other to point in her face.
‘If you’re lying …’ he said. He didn’t have to finish the threat – his face said it all.
‘I’m not,’ Astrid replied, ‘but I’m saying nothing more until you guarantee in writing that I won’t be prosecuted, not for the letter I sent her, not for anything I tell you about last night.’
‘Astrid, there’s no time,’ Callanach said, torn between violence and begging.
‘And you’ll stay with me until it’s sorted out. We’ll talk about France, about our old friends, how it used to be. That’s how this is going to work.’
Tripp entered the interview room, followed by Lively. They both froze when they saw Callanach with Astrid in his grasp.
‘Constable, get me someone from the Procurator Fiscal’s office who has the authority to grant immunity,’ Callanach said. Tripp was gone without a second’s pause. Callanach looked at Lively. ‘What do you want, Sergeant?’
‘Rory Hand. He couldn’t answer the questions about when he killed Buxton and Magee. He went no comment then lawyered up. I came to say I’m sorry. I think maybe you were right.’
‘It’s a bit bloody late for that,’ Callanach said, pushing Astrid back down into her seat.