Maggie wanted to reach across and punch Raven in his smug face.
‘DC Jamieson’s question is a valid one, Mr Raven, so answer it.’
Maggie couldn’t hide her pleasure at her superior’s support.
He sneered. ‘I do know things. Lots of things. When I was having my episodes, I believed that I was committing horrible crimes, that I was some sort of monster incapable of human empathy, that all I wanted to do was walk barefoot through pools of blood.’ He caught Maggie’s eye and smiled. ‘But – I know now – that it wasn’t me. Maybe I heard something, or witnessed something, and it traumatized me. That happens you know.’
Maggie leaned forward. She decided to take a different tack. ‘Take your time. What horrible things do you remember?’
He rubbed his temples. ‘It’s difficult to recall. Do you think someone could have told me what they did? Confessed to me in secret. With all the drugs I was taking, maybe I just internalized their story?’
‘I suppose that could be possible. Do you have any idea who might have told you such a story?’
‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could remember, DC Jamieson? Wouldn’t you just love to be able to reach back into your mind and remember everything in perfect detail? I could go back to the first time we met, that red jacket you were wearing, how you had just been for a haircut, how you had slept badly and forgotten to iron your shirt, how—’
‘Enough.’ DI Rutherford scowled. ‘Stick to the question.’
Maggie swallowed and felt cold fear wash over her. He smiled and leaned back in his chair. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t commit these crimes. Surely even you can understand that Lorraine was murdered while I was in prison?’
Maggie’s fear turned to anger, and she could no longer contain herself. ‘Let’s say I am buying this bullshit. If what you say is true – reach into those memories of yours and tell me how you knew Lorraine’s name when you initially confessed.’
‘Maybe I was hallucinating, or it came to me in a dream.’ He smirked.
‘And what makes you so sure these were hallucinations not memories? I think you’re lying and you’re doing a really shit job of it. I think you abducted those women, but you couldn’t even finish the job. You had to get someone to take over and kill them for you.’ Maggie grinned at him. ‘Is that it? Is someone else pulling the strings here? Pulling your strings?’ Raven’s hand clenched, and Rutherford kicked Maggie under the table.
‘I’m sure that what DC Jamieson is trying to say,’ Rutherford smiled, ‘is how can we use your memories to find out the identity of the killer?’
Maggie could see a nerve twitching in Raven’s neck.
‘No one pulls my strings, DC Jamieson, not unless I want them to.’ He smiled that sickly smile again. ‘The problem is, and this must be such a drag, my solicitor has lodged a successful appeal and now the CCRC is going to be all over you. I thought I might help you find the killer, but now you’ve insulted me I’m not even sure I want to anymore. I think it’s time you go, officers …’ He dismissed them with a flick of his hand, as if they were his servants.
Maggie laughed. ‘Suit yourself, but don’t get your hopes up about that appeal. I’ll find out the truth.’ She had made him show his true colours. The Raven she knew.
‘Look, Mr Raven, I’m happy to continue this discussion one on one. DC Jamieson, can you please leave the room?’
Maggie wasn’t at all surprised and knew she had crossed the line, but it was worth it. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ She collected her things and left the interview room. As she shut the door his cold laugh rang out and a shiver went up her spine.
Maggie headed down the corridor towards the exit, now even more determined to find the evidence she needed. She took her bag and phone from the locker and stopped in the bathroom on her way out, to scrub her hands with the cheap soap. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, rubbing her tired eyes.
Outside the prison, she paced up and down and waited for DI Rutherford to finish. She took out her phone and typed a number, stared at the screen for a few seconds before deleting it. After a moment, she sighed and rekeyed the number again, hit the call button and listened to the dial tone, waiting for the one person who may be able to help.
‘Doctor Moloney speaking.’
‘Kate!’ Maggie felt something like relief. ‘How are you?’ She could almost hear the smile in Kate’s voice.
‘Maggie! What a wonderful surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?’
‘I need to pick your brains and I’m hoping you have some free time this week. I can even meet you after work if it’s easier?’
‘Are you coming to the Domestic Abuse Forum on Friday?’
‘Yes.’ Maggie had nearly forgotten. Despite no longer being a part of their team, her knowledge of the cases made her the perfect police representative at the monthly meetings.
‘Excellent. How about after that? We could grab a bite to eat?’
‘That’s perfect.’ Maggie ran a hand through her hair. ‘And … I’d appreciate it if you kept this between us for the time being.’
‘My lips are sealed.’
‘Looking forward to seeing you on Friday.’ Maggie couldn’t help but smile as she disconnected the call. Dr Moloney was not only intelligent; she was one of the few people whose company Maggie genuinely enjoyed. She texted DI Rutherford to let her know she was in the café across the street and mentally began to collate everything she would need to get from her computer for her meeting with Kate.
We’ll see who has the last laugh, Raven.
He leaned across the table and smiled inwardly as he watched the DI slowly move back in her chair, listening to what he had to say, hanging on every word.
‘OK, now let’s take this back to the beginning. Where did all the blood come from in your flat when you were arrested?’
‘This is all in the case records. But because you asked me so nicely, it was no secret that Lorraine would come over to my flat. Adrian and I were selling drugs to keep our own habit going. Accidents happen … so it wouldn’t be surprising to find someone else’s blood in our flat. We used needles, burned shit, including ourselves. People fall over, bang their heads. Have you ever watched someone take heroin? Junkies are not the most coordinated.’
‘I didn’t ask about Lorraine’s blood. I asked about the blood in your flat when it was searched. Let’s try and keep to the current conversation or we’ll end up going in circles and neither of us want to waste any more time, do we?’
He tutted. ‘We both know that there was little to no evidence of human blood. I remember cleaning the flat – it was dirty, so dirty – normal bleach wasn’t getting out all the stains. I used oxygen bleach, you see, because it cleans much better …’
‘Mr Raven, what could you possibly be cleaning with that much bleach?’
‘The pig’s blood. Have you even read the case files? Why won’t you listen?’
‘How did it get there?’
‘When I killed the pig. I have a fascination with blood, always have. It’s beautiful don’t you think? It’s clean, completely pure. I love the way it runs down a wall and collects in bright red pools. How thick it is sometimes, but how it can also flow like water.’ He closed his eyes. ‘But things got out of hand – what