Head Shot

61

'How quickly do you want this, ma'am?' Stevie Steele asked.

'Mmm?' Maggie Rose lowered her coffee mug from her lips and glanced back across the table at the recently promoted detective inspector.

'Sorry, I was away somewhere else just for a second.'

'Late night?'

'Does it show? I suppose it must; I feel bleary enough. Yes, I had to go and see Mr Pringle about this thing, and then Mario got in from Paula's at God knows when. To answer your question, Stevie, I want it to be exhaustive first, and urgent second. I've established that when this Ella Frances woman registered the death, she asked for five copies of the death certificate.

'That's more than the norm. Why would she need that many? It suggests to me not just that we're right and there was an insurance policy on Essary's life, but that there might have been more than one. So take as long as you need. She'd need at least one certificate for the undertaker, so don't stop til you've been round al the life insurers, or until you've traced four policies. Give it top priority, though; this is a key part of a murder enquiry and it's down to you.'

Steele nodded. 'Understood, ma'am. I'll get on it right away.' He stood, then paused. 'By the way, ma'am,' he asked, 'is there anything on the Viareggio case yet?'

'Nothing I want to talk about, even to you. Why do you ask?'

Suddenly, the detective, normal y confident, looked awkward. 'I thought you might know. I went out with Paula Viareggio for a while. It never got too serious; we were friends as much as anything else.'

'No,' the superintendent answered, truthfully, 'I never heard about that. Did you know Beppe?'

'Yes, I met him. Almost by accident it was; we were out for a meal and he came into the place with a couple of pals. He came over and she introduced us. He was not at his most charming, I have to say. He'd had a drink, and when Paula told him what I did, he said, in this loud voice that the whole restaurant could hear, "Oh dear, no, I'm not having another policeman in the family"… or words to that effect. And then he said to me, a lot quieter, confidential like, "You want to watch her, son. She's an effing pimp, you know." Nice man.'

Rose nodded. 'Uncle Beppe had his faults, I'l agree. How did Paula take that?'

The inspector whistled. 'I never knew she had a temper until then.

She went dead white, and the look she gave him scared even me. There was a steak knife on the table; she picked it up and started out of her seat. I grabbed her wrist, quick, and forced her back down. I told her father it would be a good idea if he went somewhere else, and he did.

She scared him sober, I'll tell you.'

'Was that the only time you met him?'

'Yes. It was never the same after that between Paula and me. About a month later, we decided to pack it in.'

'You both decided?'

'Well, she said it first, but I didn't argue.'

'Did you know what Beppe meant by his remark?'

'No. I never asked, and she never said.'

The superintendent sighed. 'I almost wish you'd never told me that story, Stevie. But you have, so I have to ask you whether you think you have to tell it to Detective Superintendent Jay, as well.'

Steele sat back in the chair he had just vacated. 'I've been asking myself that, ma'am. That's probably why I brought up the subject; to get a bit of guidance.'

'You don't real y need it, though, do you?'

'No. I'll go to see Mr Jay today.'

'Like hell you will. You'll concentrate on our investigation; get Greg to send a couple of officers along here to take a statement from you.'

He stood once more. 'Very good, ma'am; but to tel you the truth, I don't see her having done it. There and then, maybe, but not in cold blood like that.'

'Why not?' asked Rose. 'She surprised you that night. Tell me, do you know anything about other men in Paula's life?'

Steele took a deep breath as he considered his answer. 'There weren't al that many, as far as I could tell. I remember she did say to me once that she was a one-man woman, but that there were lots of reasons why that couldn't happen. Actually, I was pretty certain that she was talking about her brother-in-law, Stan Coia.'

After he had left the room, Maggie sat for five minutes, staring at the 252 wall. She thought about cal ing Mario, to tell him Steele's story, but decided that some news is better broken in person. Eventually, she stirred herself, looked at her private address book, picked up the telephone, and dial ed a direct line number in the General Register Office. It rang three times before a cheery voice answered. 'Glossop.'

'Jim, hello. It's Maggie Rose here. Central Division CID. Remember me?'

'Of course I do. You were in Bob Skinner's office a while back, weren't you?' The statistician's accent had originated in the north of England, and had remained untarnished by decades in Scotland.

'That's right. I wasn't sure whether you'd stil be in yours, though.'

'Hah! You just caught me: my bags are packed and I'm ready to go. I take early retirement next week.'

'Can you do me a favour for the road, then?'

'Sure. What do you need?'

'Everything you can tell me about a man named Magnus Essary. His death, aged forty-nine, was registered in Edinburgh just over a week ago.

We have no leads to next of kin; the man's a mystery.'

'Is the body unclaimed, then?'

'No, it was claimed next day by his business partner, a woman named El a Frances. But we can't find her.' She paused. 'Jim, I'm going to tell you something that's very confidential. The death was registered as that of Magnus Essary, but it wasn't him at al. We know whose the body real y was, and it certainly wasn't his.'

'Bloody hell! The registrar general won't like that; it's a serious offence to make a false statement to a registrar.'

'It's a serious offence to kill someone, as well.'

'This man was murdered?'

'We're sure of it. But that's another problem. The body was cremated at the weekend.'

'Who signed the death certificate?'

'A locum doctor.'

'Why can't you arrest him?'

'Not for the want of trying, but he's vanished too.'

'How about the partner?'

'Her name's El a Frances, but we know even less about her. Probably she's in her twenties, but Frances could be a married name, and Ella could be short for a few things.'

'Aye,' said Jim Glossop. 'It could, couldn't it. Essary was forty-nine, you say?'

'Yes.' She spelled the surname for him.

'Leave it with me. I'll get back to you.'

'Soon, Jim, yes?'

'Too bloody right,' he laughed. 'Remember I'm retiring next week.

My first leaving do is tonight, and after that I won't be worth a stuff.'

She hung up and went back to her in-tray, cursing Manny English and Willie Haggerty for their combined roles in introducing her to the job of divisional commander of operations, yet interested, in spite of herself, in the different tasks and responsibilities which the role involved. Gradual y she became immersed in the papers before her, considering each one, delegating most tasks but taking command decisions on a few. To her surprise, she was actually annoyed when the phone rang, interrupting her.

'Mags?' Dan Pringle's gruff voice enquired.

'Yes, sir.' There was background noise on the line; she guessed that the head of CID was on the move.

'I'm on the Al, on the way to Gifford. I want you to head out there and meet up with Brian Mackie and me at the Goblin Ha'. You know it?'

'Sure. It's right in the middle of the village.'

'Fine. As quick as you can, then, but I want you to bring Charlie Johnston with you. Brian's got another deid bloke up the Lammermuirs we want him to look at.'