Aftershock

Twenty-nine

‘What the hell is this?’ asked PC Theo Weekes. ‘Why couldn’t I have given you my statement at the mobile HQ? What’s wi’ dragging me down to Torphichen Place?’

‘Shut it, Constable,’ said DS Jack McGurk. ‘You’re in no position to complain. You’ve kept us waiting for information we should have had yesterday.’

‘And much good will it do you. I know fuck all about this. I went out with Sugar a couple of years ago, and now she’s dead. That’s a pity; I’m really sorry. But I had nothing to do with it.’

‘Whoever said you had?’

‘You’re treating me like a suspect,’ the constable snapped, as the door opened.

‘Not yet,’ said DI Becky Stallings, as she stepped into the interview room. ‘We’re treating you like a witness for now. You’ve made a voluntary statement and that’s good, but there are some questions we’d like to ask you.’

She reached for the tape-recorder on the table, then paused, her hand hovering above it. ‘Before I switch this on, I want you to know something. Mr McIlhenney called me, so I’m aware of the story you told him, about why you and Miss Dean split up. That’s being checked out separately, but at this stage it’s not going on the record.’

‘Did those two no’ believe me?’

‘Don’t be dense, Weekes. You spin them a story about your station inspector’s wife giving you the clap and you think they’re going to take it at face value? But even if it’s true, it may not be relevant to this inquiry: so what I’m saying to you, and what I believe Mr McGuire said to you also, is that I don’t want any reference to it while this tape is running. Understood?’

‘Fine by me. Can we get on wi’ it? I was due off shift half an hour ago.’

‘In that case, let’s be brief,’ said Stallings, coolly. She switched on the twin-deck recorder, announced the venue, date and time and identified the three people in the room.

Jack McGurk took over. ‘Constable Weekes, you’ve given us a voluntary statement about your former relationship with the murder victim. In it, you said that it terminated because you had second thoughts about marrying her. Why did you have your first thoughts?’

‘Eh?’

‘Why did you ask her to marry you in the first place?’

The constable pursed his lips as he considered the question. ‘Dinnae ken. I suppose I liked her.’

‘You liked her? Is that your criterion for a wife?’

‘Eh?’

‘Criterion. Singular of criteria. Is that all you need to marry someone, that you like them?’

‘It’s a start. From what I’ve heard your wife disnae like you much.’

McGurk stiffened: his eyes hardened as they locked on to Weekes. Stallings leaned forward as if to intervene, but he held up a hand. ‘I’m impressed, Constable,’ he said, ‘not by you, but by the power of the police-force grapevine. Mind you it’s not always accurate. My wife and I are separated, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like me. As it happens, we’re very fond of each other. No, more than that; we love each other, only not enough. We have a problem living together, and we can’t get over it. Did you love Sugar?’

‘Ah suppose.’

‘You’re as certain as that? She must really have swept you off your feet.’

‘Well, like I said, Ah liked her. We got on.’

‘After your split, did you keep in touch?’

‘I called her a couple of times.’

‘Why?’

‘Ah dinnae ken. Just to see how she was doing, I suppose.’

‘And with whom?’ asked Stallings.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you want to know how she was getting on without you? Whether there was a new man in her life?’

‘Dunno. Maybe.’

‘Did you ever ask her?’

‘Ah suppose I must have.’

‘And was there?’

‘Not that she told me.’

‘When did you meet?’ the inspector probed.

‘About four years ago.’

‘Where?’

‘The Tap o’ Lauriston.’

‘The top of where?’

Weekes looked at her scornfully, as he repeated the name. ‘It’s a pub,’ he replied. ‘Up near the art school.’

‘How did that come about?’

‘There was a wee bit of bother up there: outside, like. I was stationed here then, and my mate and I went to sort it out. Sugar was there, trapped in the doorway by the rammy. It was controlled quick enough, but even after the van had taken the hooligans away, she was scared to walk across the Meadows. She was living in a flat then, up Warrender place. It was a wild night; lots of drunks about and such. So my mate and I, we ran her home. He drove, and Sugar and I got talking. When we got there, I walked her up the stairs and we made a date.’

‘And you went on from there?’

‘Aye, the usual thing, Ah saw her a couple of times a week, depending on my shift pattern. I was moved out to Livingston not long after that, but we still kept on.’

‘Where did you live then?’ asked McGurk.

‘Gorgie.’

‘With your parents?’

Weekes scowled at him. ‘With my wife.’

‘I see.’ The sergeant smiled. ‘Did you like her?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then why were you going out with Sugar?’

‘I liked her too.’

‘When did you and your wife split up?’

‘We were divorced two years ago.’

‘Why?’

Weekes glared across the table. ‘What the fuck’s that got to do wi’ you, Sergeant?’

‘Constable, you’re on tape,’ Stallings reminded him.

He ignored her. ‘Well?’ he demanded.

‘That’s interesting, Theo,’ McGurk replied calmly. ‘You were quick to take a crack at my marriage, yet you go all prickly when I ask about yours. Why did your wife divorce you?’

‘She didn’t. We just agreed.’

‘Then who left who?’

‘Ah moved out; got a wee house out East Craigs way.’

‘When?’

‘Three years ago.’

‘But according to your personnel file, you were living with your wife in Caledonian Crescent until two years ago.’

‘I never got round to telling them until then.’

‘But all of us have to be contactable all the time, for emergencies. You must know that.’

‘It took me a while to get the phone into ma new place.’

The sergeant frowned. ‘Let’s imagine that you’re under oath. You’re not, but humour me. If you were, would you have perjured yourself just now with that answer?’

‘Eh?’

‘Don’t get coy on us, Weekes, and don’t lie to us either. You’ve already had one formal reprimand today. Where you live is cabled. You have a choice of two telephone providers, fighting with each other to get you on line, without any waiting time. So let me ask you again. Why did it take you so long to report your change of address?’

The constable sighed. ‘Because I was still at Gorgie most of the time. Okay?’

‘No, it isn’t, but let’s go on. What you’re saying is that while you were going out with Sugar Dean, you were still living with your wife.’

‘On and off.’

‘Enough!’ Stallings shouted. She leaned forward and slapped the table. ‘Don’t bloody prevaricate with us, Constable. When you were dating Sugar, you were two-timing your wife. Yes or no?’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Yes or fucking no?’

‘Yes, then.’

‘At last. What’s her name, by the way, this wife, or ex, of yours?’

‘Lisanne.’

‘Did Sugar know about Lisanne?’

‘No.’

‘Not at all? Never?’

‘No.’

‘When you started going out, where did she think you lived?’

‘I told her I lived at home, that was all.’

‘You lied to her.’

‘Not exactly.’

Stallings whistled. ‘It’s men like you that make women like me glad we’re still single. At what point did you and Sugar begin a sexual relationship?’

‘Not until after I got my house; after we got engaged.’

‘And when was that?’

‘About two and a half years ago.’

‘Are you telling us,’ McGurk asked, ‘that you asked her to marry you so you could get your leg over? Because that’s how it’s beginning to sound.’

‘Don’t be daft.’

‘Whose idea was the divorce? Yours or Lisanne’s? Which one of you was first to suggest it?’

‘Me,’ Weekes murmured.

‘Louder for the tape, please.’

‘Me!’

‘How did you put it?’

‘I said our marriage was goin’ stale, and that I thought we needed space between us.’

‘When?’

‘Before I got the house.’

‘But you didn’t move out for a year?’

‘Not finally, no.’

‘When did you last sleep with Lisanne?’ asked Stallings, sharply.

‘About three weeks ago.’

‘Jeez. Where?’

‘Gorgie.’

‘How often do you go there?’

‘Quite a lot.’

‘You say Sugar never knew about Lisanne. Did Lisanne ever know about her?’

Weekes shook his head.

‘It’s easy for a cop to cover his tracks, isn’t it, when he’s got a bit on the side?’

‘I suppose,’ the constable grunted.

‘Trust me, I’m a woman, it is. When did you first go out with Mae Grey?’

‘About two and a half years ago.’

‘Around the time you became engaged to Sugar?’

‘Yes. She was my neighbour at work. We went out sometimes after a shift.’

‘Do you have a sexual relationship with Mae?’

‘Of course. She’s my fiancée.’

‘When did that begin?’

‘Two and a half years ago. The first time I took her back to ma place.’

Stallings leaned back in her seat, appraising the man on the other side of the table. ‘How many other women do you have on the go, Theo?’

‘Just Mae,’ he replied.

‘And Lisanne.’

‘She’s a pal.’

‘So you help her out? She can’t be going short, though: single woman, good job. She works in a bank, doesn’t she? She must be getting as much as she likes.’

The constable’s mouth seemed to tighten. ‘She’s not like that,’ he snapped. ‘She doesn’t go wi’ other blokes.’

‘How would you know?’

‘Because Ah do.’

‘Would it upset you if she did? You divorced her, remember.’

‘Aye, but. .’

‘Aye, but you don’t see it that way,’ McGurk intervened. ‘Isn’t that the truth of it? You talked her into a phoney divorce to give you a free hand with Sugar, and Mae. You signed a declaration that you’d been living apart for two years, when in fact you hadn’t. I know all about Scots divorce law, Theo, for personal reasons. If we chose, I reckon we could do you for that. So let’s get to it. You like women, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sure, you’ve got Mae, and Lisanne, and how many others?’

‘There’s a girl in Queensferry I see now and again.’

‘And you’re possessive about them, aren’t you? The idea of Lisanne with another guy wound you up a minute ago. She’s still the one, isn’t she, out of the three or four or however many it really is?’

‘We’re divorced.’

‘Sure but you keep an eye on her, don’t you? I’ll bet you sit outside her place without her knowing it, looking for the bedroom light going on when it shouldn’t, looking for shadows on the blinds. I’ll bet you do.’

‘You speaking from experience, McGurk?’ Weekes snarled.

‘You’re fucking right I am! Yes, I did that, at first, till I got used to the fact that Mary and I really had split up. So you can’t lie to me, pal; I can see right into you. I can even tell that part of you wants to see the light go on, to see the curtains pulled a second before it goes out, not after. I bet you get a hard-on, sitting there in your car, waiting for that to happen, so that you can go in there and batter the shite out the guy.’

‘Fuck you!’ he yelled.

‘Yeah. That’s how you feel, isn’t it? Lisanne’s yours, and whether you’re porking Mae or not, keeping up the pretence that you might marry her, Lisanne will always be yours. Come on, you bastard, admit it. That’s how you think!’

‘Okay! Clever cunt! Okay!’

‘And it was the same with Sugar, wasn’t it? When you and she split up, that really was it, Theo. You were never getting in there again, but the idea of someone else shafting her, that did your head in. That’s why you kept calling her. That’s why you followed her. I’ll bet you went fucking crazy when you saw her with the boy. Didn’t you, Theo? You went fucking apeshit, didn’t you?’ McGurk was on his feet as he roared the question at him.

‘Too fucking right!’ Weekes screamed. ‘He’s only a fucking schoolie! Only a kid! And they were holding fucking hands; in the fucking street!’

The sergeant smiled as he settled his long frame back on to his hard steel chair. ‘Thanks, pal. You want to sharpen up your act; you are way too easy.’ He looked sideways at Stallings. ‘Sorry about the language, Becky,’ he said.

‘That’s okay, Jack. I know, it’s a boy thing: it’s the same in London.’ She drew herself forward an inch or two, until she could lean her forearms comfortably on the table, and looked at Weekes. He was breathing hard; his expression suggested that he knew something bad had just happened, something he could not quite pin down. ‘Yes, Constable,’ she began, ‘thank you for being so frank. Let’s move on. . or, rather, let’s go back. Back to the Friday before last, in fact. I’d like you to tell me where you were at around eight thirty that morning.’

The man’s anger had dispersed like steam, condensed and settled on his face in rivulets of sweat. ‘In my house,’ he replied.

‘With which member of your harem?’

‘I was on ma own.’

‘Oh dear,’ said the inspector. ‘That is unfortunate.’