When all is dark, p.1
When All Is Dark, page 1
When All is Dark
DCI Dani Bevan #14
The Garansay Press
Books by Katherine Pathak
The Imogen and Hugh Croft Mysteries:
Aoife’s Chariot
The Only Survivor
Lawful Death
The Woman Who Vanished
Memorial for the Dead
(Introducing DCI Dani Bevan)
The Ghost of Marchmont Hall
A Better Place
Short Story collection:
The Flawed Emerald and other Stories
DCI Dani Bevan novels:
Against a Dark Sky
On a Dark Sea
A Dark Shadow Falls
Dark as Night
The Dark Fear
Girls of The Dark
Hold Hands in the Dark
Dark Remedies
Dark Origin
The Dark Isle
Dark Enough to See
The Eye in the Dark
The Dark Raven
When All Is Dark
Standalone novels:
I Trust You
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means - graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems - without the prior permission in writing of the author and publishers.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
© Katherine Pathak, 2022
#WhenAllIsDark
Edited by: The Currie Revisionists, 2022
© Cover photograph Unsplash Images
Although inspired by real events, the characters and action in this novel are entirely fictitious.
As are the islands of North and South Dorga, which only exist in the author’s imagination.
Prologue
A thin layer of snow lay across the fields. The white sprinkling from a brief, overnight blizzard swiftly blown away in the early hours had even topped the grey rocks which marked the jagged headland as it stretched into the North Sea. The lighthouse’s fresh coat of blue painted stripes contrasted pleasingly with the white carpet that surrounded it. The sun had just begun to rise behind the old building, bathing it in a golden glow.
The man standing at the sink, gazing out of the narrow window at the view, nodded appreciatively to himself. Trinity House had done a half decent job with that paintwork, he thought idly.
The water that juddered out of the tarnished tap was stained brown, like the freshwater in the burn which trickled beside their house in summer and gushed in winter. He brought a palmful up to splash onto his face and gasped at the harsh cold of it. He knew there’d be a risk of a pipe freezing that night if he wasn’t careful to come out and lag the ones which snaked around the outside of the building when he finished work for that day.
He reached for a towel and rubbed his face, dropping it in the laundry basket as he passed the main bedroom, where his wife was still unmoving under the thick duvet. “Time to get up!” He called amiably, adding a knock on both his children’s doors to make his point.
The kitchen was icy cold, he turned on the boiler and considered lighting the open fire in the living room to encourage his family to make a start to the day. Since they’d moved here, the cold had been the toughest thing to get used to, or maybe it was the desperately short days in winter, he wasn’t sure. But the open space and the peace and quiet had compensated for it. Which didn’t mean he wasn’t longing for spring.
He filled the kettle and reached into the fridge for the jars of jam and marmalade, along with a pat of butter wrapped in greaseproof paper that Rachel had made herself. As he was placing slices of bread in the toaster, he jerked his head up as there came a sharp knock at the door. He glanced at the clock. It was ten past seven, far too early for Nic to be coming to pick the kids up for school. A frown crinkled his brow.
The knocking came again, it was persistent.
“Who on earth’s that?” Rachel’s voice travelled down the stairwell; an irritated, sharp tone to it. Reminiscent of mornings when they lived in the city and nerves were always frayed.
He could hear movement upstairs; the sounds of the kids performing their morning routine. He slid back the lock and opened the heavy door, squinting to take in the unusual scene on the path before him. Two policemen in uniform were standing by the gate at the side of the single-track road which passed their property and wound its way to the lighthouse. A couple of women in dark, padded coats were positioned closer, one clutched a clipboard and the other a brand new looking teddy bear with a red bow under her arm. The odd sight made him wonder if he was still dreaming.
A suited man he vaguely recognised pushed forward, shoving a sheet of paper into his hand; full of closely typed script and bearing an official header. He just made out the words, ‘place of safety order’, before this group of people were suddenly in his house, charging up the stairs.
“What is this?” He called after them in bewilderment.
One of the policemen had remained at the front door. “We’ve got all the correct paperwork, sir. There’s no point in making a fuss. It will only make things worse for you.”
He shook his head violently, as if this bizarre early morning invasion of his home could be banished from his mind by force. Rachel had started shouting, it sounded as if she was on the landing. He ran up the stairs.
His wife had their son clasped in her arms, whilst one of the women, still in her thick shapeless coat, was tugging at his arm.
“What in the name of God are you doing!?” He yelled. “Get your hands off my child!”
“It’s for his own safety,” the woman said levelly. “You need to let him go or the policemen will arrest you both.”
He turned towards the suited gentleman, who had averted his gaze to the woodchipped wall. “Why are you trying to take our children? What is happening here?”
“Read the document, it’s all in there. The Sheriff’s given his orders.”
“What Sheriff? Who are you talking about?” He gripped his curly fringe as if he might tear the hair straight away from the scalp. Then he looked into the bathroom, where his twelve year old daughter was screaming and squirming, the other woman pulling her by the waist as she gripped the old wash hand basin with both hands. “They don’t want to go with you! Can’t you see that? What you’re doing is assaulting a child!”
“It happens from time to time,” the man muttered. “Unpleasant but necessary.”
Just as he was about to protest again, there came an awful wrenching sound. His mouth fell open as he saw that the sink had come away from the wall in a cloud of plaster dust and the icy water from the dislodged pipe was gushing onto the floor tiles, soaking the second woman’s sensible shoes.
In the chaos of the moment, his daughter’s grip must have loosened because she was abruptly dragged bodily past him and down the stairs. His son, already having been yanked from his mother’s arms was being manhandled along the path ahead of his sister. They were all outside in a matter of seconds. The policemen were holding him and his wife back roughly as their children disappeared into the back of a nondescript car.
He must have been shouting, but he couldn’t hear anything above the pounding of blood in his ears. The car sped away, despite the terrible, icy conditions. The grip on his body slackened and before the couple could register the departure of the two officers, they were suddenly alone on the front step, the landscape surrounding them deserted, their world a sea of white and grey, except for a discarded teddy bear, lying halfway along the path, the fur still looking pristine and golden, with its red bow like a gash of bright crimson blood.
Chapter 1
Glasgow, 30th October 2021
The radio DJ announced that the early morning mist over the city of Glasgow was due to lift by 9am, revealing a crisp, sunny autumn day. Her perky voice faded out and was replaced by Louis Armstrong crooning about it being a Wonderful World, which DCI Dani Bevan had to acknowledge was an appropriate choice.
Dani sipped her espresso gazing out of the patio doors in the kitchen of her ground floor flat in Scotstounhill. She shuddered as a damp chill seeped through the old rubber strips of insulation surrounding the thin frames. It made her think how they should really be replaced. They must hardly have been energy efficient any longer and had been in place since she’d moved in nearly a decade before.
She felt a presence beside her. James rested his hand on her shoulder. “The calm before the storm, eh?”
Dani turned and smiled. “This is the biggest event the city has ever hosted, certainly the most complex I’ve ever had to police.”
“You’ve got assistance though, haven’t you?” James moved over to the coffee machine to refresh his cup.
Glasgow was to be the venue for the global COP26 climate conference which was running for two weeks and began at 12pm BST that day. But the preparations had begun many months earlier. Dani rinsed her mug under the tap and placed it on the draining board. “We have the security forces accompanying each of the overseas delegates and dozens of additional officers have been brought in from across the country. But if something goes wrong, you can bet your life the buck stops with us.”
“The DCC is the one ultimately responsible, though, surely?”
Dani brushed her lips against his warm cheek, smelling his aftershave and the scent of shampoo lingering in his freshly washed hair. “Yes, in theory, but if the Chief Constable wants to find a scapegoat, it will be Ronnie Douglas or me who will be left carrying the can.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You’ve been planning this operation for over a year. There’ll be some grumbling about disruption to the local traffic, but hopefully folk will see this event is far more important than a bit of short term inconvenience.”
Dani ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair, lifted her briefcase and slid her feet into a pair of sensible court shoes. “I’m not convinced it is.”
James raised his eyebrows. “Don’t let the First Minister hear you say that.”
Dani grinned. “I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s just that when you see the lists of delegates and their entourages, printed out endlessly in black and white, you begin to wonder what this diplomatic circus is really all about.”
James raised his cup. “We’re saving the planet, darling,” he replied with more than a hint of irony.
Dani laughed and clipped across the entrance hall to the front door, wondering at what exact point in her career she had become so cynical.
*
The serious crime division of the Pitt Street headquarters was as busy with officers as the DCI had ever seen it. Detective Chief Superintendent Ronnie Douglas was addressing the floor.
Dani checked her watch. It was 10am. She stood beside her superior officer whilst he spoke.
“Now, I don’t need to remind you how important the next couple of weeks is going to be for this city and for Police Scotland. Delegates and their security teams will be arriving at the SEC venue from 12 noon today. The traffic division have ensured the M8 exit will be clear for the delegates’ convoys to pass through without delays. Local traffic has been diverted along the A8, Paisley Road.” Douglas took a breath. “Your responsibility is the policing of the venue itself, alongside your usual duties to patrol the city centre. We already have a team over at the conference centre. DI Muir is leading the operation for the diplomatic division who have seconded him back for the duration of the conference. But the point is, that we must work together on this.” He raised a finger to emphasise his words. “You will be patrolling the venues and the streets of Glasgow in a matter of hours. I need you to observe everything. Suspect packages, unusual behaviour, suspicious vehicles. Hell, if someone farts in the wrong place during the next two weeks, I want to hear about it.”
A murmur of laughter rippled through the group, but Dani noticed many of the officers were too tense to see much humour in the situation.
“DCI Bevan will be here in the department to head up the operation. Pitt Street will be your HQ. We have nearly two hundred world leaders in our fair city from today, including the President of the United States. This will be something you’ll tell the grandkids about. But make no mistake, this is the most important assignment of your careers. There’ll be no room for errors.”
Dani glanced at the roomful of faces, some seemed pumped up for the challenge, others as jaded as they were on any given Monday morning briefing. But a few had paled at the DCS’s words, their expressions displaying what could only be described as pure fear at the enormity of the task before them.
After the DCS’s pep talk, Dani had divided the officers into sections which all had a commanding officer and a specific set of duties for the following days. This operation had been planned months in advance. She had a smartboard with a spreadsheet showing her where all her officers would be at any given moment in the next two weeks.
They’d tried to model all possible scenarios that might take place, but if the DCI had learnt anything during her career, it was that people were unpredictable. With the number of individuals, from so many interest groups they had gathered in the city right at that moment, the prospect of unwelcome surprises made her distinctly uneasy.
Dani was about to return to her office when DI Alice Mann approached her. “Is everything okay, Alice?”
The young woman nodded assuredly. She had only that month returned from maternity leave. Her little boy was now two and a half years old. But the DI was still on reduced hours. “I’m afraid Fergus is in court all day today. I’m going to have to clock off at 4.30pm to pick up Charlie from nursery.”
Dani noticed her colleague’s pale face had coloured across the cheeks. It was obvious how much it pained her to ask for this kind of dispensation. But to Dani, it was entirely understandable, she wanted Alice in her team, she was one of the best officers she’d ever worked with. If flexible hours was what it took to keep her, it was a small price to pay. “No problem. Andy is on your team and he has been as thoroughly briefed as you have. When you leave, he can take over command.”
Alice’s posture relaxed with relief. “Yes, I’ll do that. I do know how important these next few weeks are, but Fergus’s court date couldn’t be shifted.”
“Don’t explain yourself, Alice. You’ve a child now and I know things will change. Andy was disgruntled not to get a command, so if he can share yours it may appease him.” She sighed, “if he wants greater responsibility, he’ll have to take those Inspector exams.”
Alice nodded. “We can work together, we’ve done it plenty of times before. Andy knows the city better than any other officer at Pitt Street.”
“He’s also got a list of prejudices and gripes as long as the Clyde. If he starts mouthing off, don’t hesitate to shut him down. Our presence at this conference is going to be strictly, seen and not heard,” Dani said with emphasis.
Alice smiled. “Message received, Ma’am.” She turned to gather her team, ready for the task ahead.
Chapter 2
The police van crawled along Commercial Street. The eight officers in the back all wore high visibility jackets with Kevlar vests underneath.
The windows had misted up with condensation and Alice felt sweat beginning to bead her brow. “The public shouldn’t be aware of the routes the first delegates are taking to reach the SEC, as a result, many of the protests are taking place in the city centre itself today.”
DS Andy Calder cleared his throat. “Do we have any insider knowledge of where they’re planning to congregate?”
DC Dan Clifton piped up from the seat opposite the DS, “yes, a few of us on the tech team have infiltrated an online forum for the ‘Earth’s Saviours’ group, which have been the most recently active in Scotland. That’s how we know they’re gathering today at Broomielaw Quay.” The young man lifted his chin proudly.
“I wonder how long it will take for them to work out they’ve got a leak and shut the forum down?” Andy added grumpily. “When we keep gate-crashing their party?”
DS Sharon Moffatt, squashed up next to Dan, pulled a face. “Maybe they won’t. The group want maximum publicity, right? I’m sure they’re happily tipping off the press about where they’ll be. It’s been a pattern for all their previous protests.”
“That’s right,” DC Calvin added from his place by the rear doors, “Earth’s Saviours have already protested at Central Station in August this year. A number of their members climbed on top of an LNER train. The press arrived within minutes and the pictures were being broadcast around the world by lunchtime. It’s generating publicity for their aims that motivates them.”
“The train should have pulled out of the station with them still on top,” Andy muttered under his breath.
Alice heard him. “I hope that’s just a poor taste joke, DS Calder. Legitimate, peaceful protest is entirely legal in this country. Our role is to make sure it stays peaceful. Any prejudices, we leave at home.” She gave her colleague a cold stare.
