Aftershock

Twenty-six

Andy Martin scowled across the desk at Detective Chief Superintendent Rod Greatorix, the Tayside force’s head of CID. ‘You can’t be serious,’ he said.

‘I can,’ the detective replied. ‘I wish I wasn’t, but I was there and I witnessed the whole fucking shambles. I was ready, the other police witnesses were ready, the pathologists were there, the jury was empanelled and in place, and the judge was on the bench. The only thing that was fucking empty was the dock. The prisoner wasn’t with us.’

‘Where the hell was he?’

‘In Edinburgh, in a cell, in the remand section of Saughton Prison. Somebody in the Crown Office got the dates mixed up. They had the trial down to begin next Wednesday, not this morning.’

‘Who was the judge?’

‘Lady Broughton, one of the new ones. Remember? She used to be Phyllis Davidson, QC.’

‘I know Phil. How did she react?’

‘Like the lady she is. When Herman Butters, the Advocate Depute, finally stood up, half an hour late, and said that he wasn’t ready to proceed, and wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning, she just smiled at him, and said, “That is unfortunate, isn’t it? In that case, we all might as well go home.” You should have seen the look of relief on wee Butters’s face, until she dropped the bomb, that is.’

‘What bloody bomb?’

‘Butters asked her if she wanted to start early tomorrow, to make up time, and she said, “You misunderstand me. The case is deserted, pro loco et tempore. The jury is discharged.” Then she thanked them all for their service, short though it had been, as she put it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Grandpa McCullough’s counsel, Sally Mathewson, stood up and asked that her client be formally acquitted and released.’

‘He wasn’t, was he? Don’t tell me that.’

‘No, Phil was too smart for that. She pointed out that what she had done didn’t amount to an acquittal, and that the Crown could bring the case back to court. But she did say that he could have bail until they were ready to do that.’

Martin pushed himself out of his chair and stepped towards the window of his office. ‘Bloody hell,’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s taken you. . what?. . more than half of your career to nail McCullough for something serious, and now he’s out on the street. We’ll have to lock the key witnesses up, or they’ll both wind up as dead as the guy he killed.’

Greatorix held up a hand, as if in reassurance. ‘It’s okay. It’s not as bad as that. Remember, we’re proceeding with the murder charge separately from the Class A possession indictment. I had him rearrested on that so he never got out of Saughton.’

‘Thank Christ for small mercies, Rod. Have you told the chief?’

‘He’s not back from his meeting yet. If I know him he’ll want to write to the Solicitor General. Black day for wee Butters, eh?’

‘Too right.’ Martin snorted. ‘I’ve got a feeling that he’ll spend the rest of his stint as a prosecutor in places like Wick, Dumfries and Ayr. Maybe even Lerwick, if they can find a reason to have the High Court sit up there.’

‘It can’t be far enough away,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘See you later.’

The deputy chief constable returned to his desk with mixed emotions, a small part of him wanting to laugh at the farcical scene that had played out in court, the rest appalled by the consequences that might have flowed from the prosecution’s mistake, but for Greatorix’s quick thinking. Knowing that Graham Morton, his chief constable, would consult him about a formal complaint to the Solicitor General, he began to draft a letter. It was almost complete when his assistant opened his door.

‘I’ve got Sir James Proud on the line, sir,’ he said. ‘He’d like a word.’

‘Then put him through,’ Martin replied at once. ‘Chief,’ he said, as he heard the click of the connection.

‘Not for much longer, son.’

‘So I hear. Nine months, is it?’

‘Less than nine weeks. I’ve moved the date forward. Mind you, as of this moment, you, Bob and my human-resources director are the only three people outside my house who know.’ He paused. ‘But maybe not. I imagine that Bob has had a heart to heart with his lady by now.’

‘Has he said whether he’ll apply?’

‘No, but I believe that he’ll be told to.’

‘And she must be obeyed?’

‘No again, unless she’s right, as she usually is.’

‘You know that if he does apply, I won’t?’

‘I guessed as much. That’ll be your decision, Andy. I’d respect it either way.’

‘Thanks, Chief,’ said Martin. ‘And thanks for letting me know too. I appreciate that. I’ll look forward to your leaving do.’

‘Ah, but that’s not the only reason I called.’ A new, mysterious tone came into Sir James’s voice. ‘I want to make you a formal request, one of the last I’ll make in office, so if you turn me down you’ll feel really guilty about it.’

‘If it comes to that,’ Martin chuckled, ‘I’ll go to confession and seek absolution. But go on, you’ve got my attention.’

‘A situation has developed in Edinburgh. It’s a difference of view that’s developed into a confrontation between senior CID officers and Joe Dowley, the Crown Agent.’

Martin listened, as Proud described how the problem had arisen, and how it had escalated. ‘Dowley doesn’t have a leg to stand on,’ he said, when the chief constable had finished. ‘If the Lord Advocate’s too chicken to back you, and you want to take it all the way, couldn’t you apply to the court for a compliance order?’

‘Yes,’ Sir James agreed, ‘I could; I’ve already had legal advice to that effect. But for various reasons, I don’t want to go there. I’ve discussed this with Bob, and it’s our considered view that the best way to defuse the situation is by appointing an officer from another force to carry out an objective inquiry into the possibility of a leak of sensitive information from the Ballester report.’

‘Why has it gone this far so fast?’ asked Martin. ‘There’s no certainty that the Dean homicide is a copycat.’

‘No, but the investigating officers believe that to be a possibility, so it has to be checked out. To answer your question, if Gregor Broughton, the Edinburgh fiscal, hadn’t been off at a conference somewhere, he’d have talked to a few people quietly and either come up with a culprit or given McIlhenney an assurance that his office was clean. But he wasn’t, so Neil asked his assistant to look into it. She’s new, so she took it all the way up to Dowley, and war broke out.’

‘Why didn’t she go to the deputy Crown Agent?’

‘On holiday.’

‘So what’s Dowley’s angle?’

‘The Lord Advocate thinks that he’s trying to make a name for himself, with a view to becoming a judge. Having a reputation for not being a soft touch for the police might not do him any harm with the judicial appointments board.’

‘Why make such a fuss? The Crown Agent’s pretty much assured of going on to become a sheriff.’

‘Gavin Johnson reckons he’s more ambitious, that his sights are set on the Supreme Court. But,’ said Sir James, ‘you haven’t asked me why I’m speaking to you about this.’

Martin smiled. ‘I have a terrible feeling that I know.’

‘You’re right, then. I want you to conduct the investigation. You know this force, you’re familiar with the workings of the Crown Office, and with a spell in Special Branch on your CV, your discretion is assured. This has to be completely confidential. I’ve spoken to Graham Morton, and given the time of year he’s okay with it, as long as it doesn’t take more than a couple of weeks, which it won’t, since there aren’t that many people in the chain. So, Andy, will you take the job on?’

Martin sighed. ‘Hell’s teeth, Chief; rattling cages in the Crown Office and investigating former colleagues is not my idea of a fun time.’

‘As a favour to me?’

‘Ah, shit. Put like that. . Give me a quiet room on the command corridor, and your exec as my leg man, if I need him. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.’