Matilda sat alone in a draughty wooden hut, with the lights off. She was surrounded by complete darkness. She should be frightened. Nobody knew she was here, anything could happen. Surprisingly, she felt buoyed by a sense of determination.
A car turned into the car park, its headlights shining on the windows, through the thin curtains, and briefly lighting up the whole room, before plunging it back into darkness.
A car door slammed closed. Heavy footfalls thumped on the wooden terrace outside. There was a knock, but the caller didn’t wait to be invited in. The door swung open. ‘Hello?’ The voice was shaken, almost scared.
Matilda turned on a light. ‘Sian, thanks for coming. Have a seat.’
‘Matilda, what’s going on? I thought I was being lured here by a serial killer.’
‘Yet you came anyway.’
‘Curiosity.’
‘And all you did was call out a pathetic hello?’
‘How would you address a serial killer?’
Matilda thought for a while before smiling. ‘Good point. Besides, I texted you from my phone.’
‘For all I knew the killer could have murdered you and used your phone to lure me here.’
‘You’ve got a strange imagination, Sian.’
‘It comes with the job,’ Sian said. ‘I’ve never been in here before.’
‘No. Neither have I,’ Matilda said, looking around the dimly lit function room in Bradway Bowling Club.
‘Are you going to tell me why I’ve been dragged out of a nice warm house?’
‘We’ll wait for the others. Coffee?’
‘Please. Who else is coming?’
‘You’ll see.’
Matilda went over to the counter and made them both strong coffees in large mugs. ‘It’s a shame you don’t carry a snack bag around with you. I could just do with a bar of chocolate.’
‘Are you all right? You seem a bit … preoccupied.’
‘I’m OK,’ she lied.
A car turned into the car park and lit up the clubhouse.
‘Another lamb to the slaughter?’ Sian asked.
Christian Brady, Adele Kean, and Rory Fleming joined Sian and Matilda. They all grabbed a chair and put it in a circle. The door opened, and Scott Andrews bounded in.
‘You lying sod,’ Rory began. ‘You said you were going home to pack.’
‘So did you,’ Scott admonished.
Matilda interrupted. ‘I’m sorry for the mysterious texts and that you’ve had to lie and make excuses to come here, but everything will be explained. Now, Scott, grab yourself a coffee and a chair and join us.’
Scott did as he was told. He sat next to Rory. The two new flatmates suddenly looked less certain of each other.
‘Firstly, have any of you told anyone you were coming here?’
They all mumbled no.
‘I didn’t even know this place existed,’ Rory said.
‘That’s good. We have Pat Campbell to thank for the choice of venue,’ she said, referring to the retired detective sergeant who had helped Matilda out on a number of occasions since she’d left the force. ‘Her husband is a treasurer. There was supposed to be a club meeting tonight, but Pat got them to cancel it.’
‘What are we doing here?’ Christian asked.
‘South Yorkshire Police secret bowling league,’ Rory said, laughing at his own joke. Nobody else did.
‘Before I answer that,’ Matilda swallowed, ‘I also want to take this opportunity to apologize to you all. I’ve been very short and snappy with some of you, and I’m sorry. I think we can agree this case has affected all of us in ways we didn’t expect. Now, the reason for this clandestine meeting is because I believe the killer is a serving police officer on our team.’
Matilda paused. She expected someone to jump to the defence of the team. She was shocked by the silence, but not completely surprised by it.
‘James Dalziel has been saying for a while that the killer is a police officer. He emailed me a profile of the killer,’ she said, digging her phone out of her pocket. The light from the screen lit up her face. She looked drawn, shattered. ‘He thinks the murderer is suffering from Narcissistic Personality Disorder, which is why he’s been contacting me and Danny Hanson. He has a grandiose sense of self-importance,’ she said, reading from the email. ‘He will feel superior, special, unique, or expect others to see him in this way. He’ll have an inflated judgement of his own accomplishment and devalue the contributions of others.’
‘Sorry,’ Christian interrupted, ‘but isn’t that all hypothetic? Any of it can be found online, surely.’
‘Christian, I know you’re not a fan of criminal psychology.’
‘It’s not that. I just wonder if anyone has considered James Dalziel in all this.’
‘You think James is the killer?’ Adele asked.
‘It wouldn’t be the first time someone has abused their position of power. I’m slightly concerned we’re putting too much credence in what he says. We shouldn’t take everything James says as gospel.’
‘He does have a point, Christian,’ Sian said. ‘The killer is calling Danny Hanson, and you, Matilda. He obviously wants attention. To be acknowledged for the crimes without being caught. That is a level of narcissism. Isn’t it?’ she asked, looking around the circle at the doubting faces staring back at her.
‘Yes, it is,’ Matilda said. ‘Let’s put Christian’s theory to the test, first.’ She turned to the DI. ‘Why would James Dalziel be doing this?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘Why does anyone decide to kill? Maybe he’s the one with this narcissistic disorder. Maybe he’s fed up with lecturing a bunch of zombie teenagers.’
‘Wouldn’t he go on a shooting spree then?’ Rory asked.
‘All I’m saying,’ Christian continued, ‘is that if you want to commit a murder and not get caught, who better to do it than a criminal psychologist?’
‘Also, you said something about an inflated judgement of his own achievements,’ Sian said. ‘James is divorced, he’s separated from his children and he left his job in Scotland. He had the ideal life and now he’s back to square one. Yet, from the outside, you wouldn’t think so. Maybe he’s looking at his own life with rose-tinted glasses.’
Matilda squeezed her eyes tightly shut. She immediately pictured the photograph of herself James had on his spare bedroom wall. She should say something, confide in those she trusted, but there was a little voice inside telling her to keep her cards closer to her chest than usual. Was the killer a police officer? Or was James the Hangman and telling Matilda the killer was an officer to play with her mind? No wonder I’m getting so many headaches.
‘OK, but how is he getting his information about the victims, then?’ Scott asked. ‘Nobody knew Brian Appleby was in Sheffield. Nobody knew Katie Reaney had changed her name from Naomi Parish. How did he find all that out without access to the PNC?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sian replied thoughtfully.
‘So we’re back to the killer being a police officer,’ Adele said.
‘Why did you ask just us to be here, boss?’ Scott asked.
Matilda opened her eyes. ‘You’re the only ones I can trust. We are the Murder Investigation Team, apart from Aaron who is otherwise engaged. I hand-picked you all. I know you.’
‘You didn’t hand-pick me,’ Christian said.
‘That’s true. He’s the killer,’ Rory said, pointing at the DI and lightening the mood.
‘But I know you. I trust you.’
‘Erm,’ Scott raised his hand slightly, ‘why isn’t Faith here?’
‘Because I don’t really know Faith. She was DI Hales’s recruit. Not mine.’
Everyone looked uncomfortable. Matilda wasn’t in the main incident room. Her office was offset from everyone else. They, however, all worked with Faith Easter on a daily basis. They knew her. They trusted her. They suddenly realized how serious this was.
Matilda saw dissent on their faces. ‘I have nothing against Faith. She is an exemplary detective and has more than proved her worth over the years.’
‘Just not enough to be included here,’ Rory said, as an aside but loud enough for everyone to hear.
Matilda took a deep breath. ‘The reason Faith isn’t here is because of me and my paranoias. Like I said, Faith is a brilliant detective, but because I didn’t pick her for the MIT, I’m reluctant to trust her one hundred per cent. Faith may be at ninety-nine per cent, but in my eyes that’s still not enough.’ Matilda looked into the middle of the circle. Her hands were shaking, and she could feel the growing sensation of a panic attack creeping up her back. ‘It’s down to me being a complete fuck up that I can’t allow new people in.’ Her voice was quivering. ‘Everything that’s happened to me over the last couple of years has messed with my head so much that I don’t have room to trust anyone else.’
The room fell deathly silent. None of them, apart from Adele, had ever heard her speak so frankly about herself before.
They all stole brief glances at each other. They felt embarrassed by their boss’s openness, yet at the same time, honoured she could trust them with her darkest confessions.
‘Matilda,’ Sian said quietly, ‘no offence or anything, but do you think we should get the ACC to bring in someone else. If the killer is a colleague, then we’re all too close to see it. A fresh pair of eyes may be needed.’
‘I agree,’ Scott said.
Matilda took a deep breath. ‘We can solve this,’ she said unconvincingly.
Once again, everyone exchanged worried glances.
Matilda continued. ‘Now, I want to ask you all who you think the killer is. I’ve had Sian go through all the members of the team. Between us, we haven’t been able to come up with anything. So, does anyone have any ideas?’
‘I can’t do this,’ Scott suddenly said.
‘Do what?’
‘We work with these people every day. There has to be a degree of trust between each other. We have to have each other’s backs, in case things kick off. Now you’re asking us to choose one of them to be a killer. I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t look at my colleagues in that way.’
Adele jumped to Matilda’s defence. ‘Scott, Matilda isn’t asking you to choose someone. She’s asking if you’ve noticed a change in anyone lately. Have any of your colleagues been acting differently, making furtive phone calls, a change in their personality?’
Matilda gave Adele a smile of thanks.
‘I don’t know,’ Scott said, the pain of the situation etched on his face. ‘I’m pleased you feel like you can trust me, but, if I start questioning my colleagues and wondering who they’re phoning then, no offence boss, but I’m going to end up like you.’
Matilda looked at everyone in the group in turn. ‘You’re right, Scott. I’m sorry. To all of you, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you here like this. It wasn’t fair. Go. All of you, go home, do whatever it is you do in the evenings. Have fun. Be with your families. I’m sorry.’ Matilda was the first to break the circle. She went into the corner of the function room, her back to the group.
‘I think we’ve all had a pretty hard day. Maybe we should knock it on the head and try and have a good night’s sleep,’ Christian said, standing up.
‘Good idea,’ Sian agreed.
Scott and Rory were the first to leave. They couldn’t get out of the clubhouse fast enough.
Sian walked slowly over to Matilda and placed an arm around her shoulder. ‘You should have opened up sooner, Mat. We’re more than your colleagues, we’re your friends.’
‘I know,’ Matilda said quietly through the tears.
‘You know where I am if you need me. Any time.’ Sian kissed her on the cheek then left, saying goodbye to Christian and Adele as she went.
‘Boss,’ Christian said, from a distance.
Matilda sniffled and turned around.
‘This didn’t go quite as planned, did it?’ he asked.
‘Not really.’ She laughed. ‘It was more like a group therapy session.’
‘Leave it with me. I’ve had a few ideas. I’ll speak to Scott and Rory in the morning.’
‘Thanks, Christian. You’re a good man.’
‘That’s why you trust me.’ He smiled and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
‘How do you feel?’ Adele eventually asked.
‘Empty.’
‘At least your team know how you’re feeling now.’
‘I think I’ve lost them, especially Scott and Rory. Sian told me the other day that they all look up to me. Now they’ve found I’m completely messed up.’
‘But you’re not messed up and the team won’t think anything less of you for admitting how you really feel. They’ll look at you and see a woman who is achieving great things in the face of adversity.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Everyone is on Team Darke. Now come on, I’m hungry and you’re buying.’
Adele turned and walked out of the clubhouse leaving Matilda alone. She looked around her at the depth of the darkness she was suddenly encased in. Darke by name, dark by nature.