A Rush of Blood

Thirty

Neil McIlhenney’s eyebrows almost formed a single dark line as he looked at Ray Wilding. ‘Sunshine,’ he said, quietly, ‘you’re quite high up the list for promotion to inspector. That’s why I’ve been happy to leave you in charge here while Sammy does his stint at the police training college. But if I find you’ve left me out of the loop about anything else, I will become distinctly unhappy.’ He took an A4 sheet from his pocket and held it in the air. ‘I get a call in my office from a journo who’s got my direct number. He asks me how we’re getting on with identifying the mystery girl. “What fucking mystery girl?” I say to him, and he directs me to one of our own media releases that I’ve never fucking heard of, let alone seen. I had to stonewall him, and now I’m having to come down here to sort it out. You know the rules; anything issued by our press office that affects my patch is copied to me by the originator. Alan Royston’s already had his balls kicked, and now it’s your turn.’

The sergeant folded in the face of the detective superintendent’s rare show of anger. ‘I’m sorry, boss,’ he said. ‘There was a push to get it out last night, so I guess I forgot about that. When they issued it this morning, well. . Sorry,’ he repeated.

McIlhenney nodded. ‘OK, point made, apology accepted. I know it wasn’t your mistake, Ray, that it was one of your troops, but it’s your can, and I respect you for not trying to duck out of carrying it. I’ll leave you to kick whatever arse requires it. But,’ he continued, ‘you said you tried to have this issued last night. Why wasn’t it?’

‘Royston said there was no point, that it was too late.’

‘Too late to try to identify a girl whose parents might be sitting at home worrying themselves to death about where she is? Did he really say that?’

‘Apparently so. But from what I hear, if her parents are chewing their knuckles anywhere, it’s in Russia.’

‘Russia?’ McIlhenney’s frown returned as he considered the implications of the revelation. ‘You’ve been asking around, I take it?’

‘Yes. Griff and Alice did a trawl. They even went to see Joanne Virtue.’

‘The Big Easy? She’s out of that game now, though.’ He grinned, fleetingly. ‘People used to go to her to get laid; now it’s to get laid to rest. She’s working in an undertakers.’

‘How did you know that?’

‘I gave her a reference.’

‘Mmm. You’ll be getting yourself talked about, sir. Griff told me that when Alice got a bit hoity with her, your name came up. Joanne nailed her to the wall with it.’

The superintendent nodded. ‘With my blessing. Joanne knows where some bodies are buried, figuratively speaking, of course. She did us a big favour once, and it will not be forgotten. Could she help?’

‘No, not really. Montell and Cowan were going to check one place out, but they got called up to the Royal to see the kid. She’s back in the land of the living. They’re with her now.’

‘I hope she stays there. Let me know how it pans out. Meantime I’m heading back up to Fettes to speak to someone about Mr Royston’s sense of urgency.’

Thirty-one

What an unpleasant woman, Alex Skinner thought as she was shown into Valdas Gerulaitis’s office. I can see why her husband’s cousin chose to leave her a string of brothels.

Her husband was much more affable. ‘Miss Skinner,’ he greeted her. ‘Our new lawyer, I’m told. That’s a familiar surname around Edinburgh.’

‘For the avoidance of doubt,’ she said, taking the first opportunity to keep her promise, ‘he’s my father. It hasn’t kept me completely out of trouble, but he is a pretty formidable insurance policy for a single girl to have.’

‘I’m sure, from what I’ve heard of him. My late cousin, Tomas, spoke of him occasionally, with great respect.’ He slapped his palms on his desk as they both sat. ‘Now, what can I do for you? I can’t spare too much time. It’s a wee bit daunting to be landed with the job of running two companies.’

‘That’s what I’ve come to discuss, Mr Gerulaitis,’ she replied. She laid her briefcase on the desk, opened it and took out two documents. ‘That,’ she said, sliding the first across the desk ‘is a notarised copy of Mr Zaliukas’s will. There are a couple of matters that concern you indirectly, but I want to draw your attention to the disposition of the two Lietuvos companies. Under its terms, these pass to Mrs Zaliukas and her children; they now own the businesses, one hundred per cent.’ She handed him the second document. ‘And this is a copy of a faxed letter from Mrs Zaliukas, in her capacity as executor of her late husband’s estate, appointing me interim administrator of them both.’

Gerulaitis’s eyes widened. As he read, his mouth dropped further and further open, until it gaped. ‘Wha. . what does this mean?’ he stammered.

‘For you, nothing. You continue in your present position; “financial controller” is your title, I believe. But every decision that affects the companies materially will be taken by me.’ Pause. ‘I know this is a shock to you, but I’d ask you to respect Mrs Zaliukas’s wishes and cooperate with me.’

The man recovered his composure. ‘Of course,’ he said, quietly. ‘I’ll have to think about it, though, longer term.’

‘Sure, but bear in mind that I only expect to be here in the short term. In due course, Mrs Zaliukas will want to appoint a permanent chief executive. That might be you, it might not; it’ll be her choice. In the meantime, I’d be grateful if you could provide me with a set of keys for these premises, and a note of the alarm code, in case I want to drop in when you’re not here. Then I’ll leave you to read the rest of the will. As I said, there’s something else in there that I expect will be of great interest to you.’