Common Murder

She started by explaining where she was going and why. That was the easy bit. Now came the part where years of working with words were no help at all.

“I’m going to have to keep my head down after this piece is published. The security services will want to bring charges, and I don’t think it will be safe for me to come home till after Simon Crabtree is no longer a threat. I’m going to stay abroad for a while, but I don’t know yet where I’ll be. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve sorted things out and maybe you can join me for a while. I’m sorry-I really wanted to spend some time with you. I love you. Lindsay.”

She scowled at the screen, deeply dissatisfied with what she had written. But there was no time now for more. She got up and stretched while the letter printed out, then left it by the answering machine. The next fifteen minutes were a whirlwind of throwing clothes, books, papers, and maps into a couple of holdalls. She went through to the lounge to pick up some tapes for the journey, forgetting the raid that had left the shelves empty. When she saw the spaces where her music had been, she swore fluently. The shock gave her the extra kick of energy she needed to get out into the night and off to the ferryport.

Three nights later, Lindsay stood in the press hall in Cologne watching the massive presses flickering her image past her eyes at hundreds of copies a minute. Gunter approached, clutching a handful of early copies from the run and an opened bottle of champagne. He thrust a magazine at Lindsay, who stared disbelievingly at the cover. Her own picture was superimposed on a wide-angled shot of the base at Brownlow Common with the peace camp in the foreground. A slow smile spread across her face, and she took a long, choking swig from the offered bottle of champagne. “We did it,” she almost crowed. “We beat the bastards.”

Epilogue

Excerpts from the Daily Clarion, 11 May 198-.

MISSILES TO GO

The Pentagon announced last night that the phased withdrawal of cruise missiles from Brownlow Common will begin in November…

DOUBLE TRAGEDY FOR SPY MURDER FAMILY

The man at the centre of a German magazine’s revelations about Russian spies at American bases in the UK died in a freak road accident last night.

His death was the second tragedy within two months for his family. His father, solicitor Rupert Crab tree, was brutally murdered eight weeks ago.

Simon Crabtree, who had been officially cleared by British security forces of any involvement in espionage, died instantly when his motorbike skidded on a sharp bend and ploughed into the back of a tractor.

Val McDermid

Val McDermid grew up in a Scottish mining community. After reading English at Oxford, she became an award-winning journalist and active trade unionist, ending up as Northern Bureau Chief of a national newspaper and Chair of the Union ’s Equality Council. She now writes full-time and lives in the north of England with her partner and four cats.

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