Aftershock

Thirty-one

‘I hope you don’t mind me coming down here, Becky,’ said Neil McIlhenney, ‘but after big McGurk’s bravura performance this afternoon, it seemed best to me that we should work in tandem.’

‘No, sir,’ Stallings assured him. ‘I don’t mind at all. Why should I?’

‘It would be understandable if you did. Your first major inquiry in Edinburgh as senior investigating officer and the brass muscles in. I’d probably be pissed off myself. It’s just that having pulled PC Grey in for interview I don’t think I can chuck her across to somebody else. I want you to sit in, though.’

‘I understand.’

‘Where are we with Weekes?’

‘He’s admitted to stalking Sugar Dean since she binned him, and to seeing her with Davis Colledge, but he’s sticking to his story that he was at home when she was killed.’

‘Are you buying that?’

‘I’m not taking his word for it. I’ve taken a DNA sample from him, for comparison with the various traces that were found at the site. The way things stand, at the moment, he’s our number-one suspect.’

‘Having listened to your tape, I can’t argue with that. I hope it never has to be played in court, though: Jack got a bit personal when he was going for him.’

‘Yes, he did,’ Stallings agreed. ‘Is his marriage really bust?’

‘I hope not, but this is the second time that he and Mary have separated. It started to creak when he was posted down to the Borders. I thought the move back to Edinburgh had sorted it out, but apparently not. Back to Weekes, though. I’ve done some very confidential checking. He and Sugar were both prescribed antibiotics two years ago by a doctor in a private clinic in Edinburgh. Not long after that, Jock Varley had a couple of weeks on the sick. No medical certificate was ever submitted, but he and his wife were both treated at the genito-urinary unit. . or the cock doctor’s, as my dear old dad used to call it.’

‘Will we have to talk to Varley about that?’

‘Not unless we’ve got no choice. Where is Casanova now?’

‘I’ve kept him here. He agreed to stay, but only because he knew he didn’t have any option. I want a warrant to search his home, and his locker, looking for a firearm and for anything else that might connect him to the crime scene. Do you agree?’

‘Of course,’ said McIlhenney. ‘We’ve got to do it, and it had better be formal. Get Jack on to it, right away. We’ve probably got grounds for searching the ex-wife’s place too, since he’s admitted to going there.’

‘And what about PC Grey’s?’

‘Let’s leave that until we’ve spoken to her. Before we do that, there’s something else you should know. Remember I told you I’d take care of contacting Davis Colledge?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I did. I sent a special representative up there to liaise with the French police and pay him a visit. The lad wasn’t at his digs: he left Collioure yesterday, telling his landlady he was going touring for a few days. But he left some stuff behind, stuff that bothers my man.’

‘Are you saying we should be giving the kid more priority?’ asked Stallings.

‘That’s what I’m being told, so we’d better. The French police are looking for him in all the coastal resorts: that’s where he said he was going. We need to help them by running a plastic chase.’

‘I’ll put Sauce on to it right away, and Jack on to those warrants, before I have Grey brought up from the front office.’

McIlhenney smiled. ‘Don’t have her brought. You go and get her, and when you do, make sure you walk her past the room where Weekes is waiting, and that the door’s open, enough for them to see each other.’

‘But not talk?’

‘Hell, no.’

Stallings left.

The superintendent looked around her office, wondering how she had managed to cope with the change from London. One thing struck him: she had the neatest detective’s desk that he had ever seen. The live files, on which she was working, were all stacked in a tray. There were no notes scattered about on scraps of paper, just a single pad, with a pen alongside it. Her computer keyboard was slid away out of sight. This was a person whose working life was meticulously organised. He made a mental note to find out, subtly, from Ray Wilding whether she was a slob at home.

She returned after a few minutes, followed by a woman in uniform. ‘Detective Superintendent McIlhenney,’ she announced, ‘this is PC Grey.’ The newcomer looked as if the summer had passed her by: her face matched her name, and she seemed to be shivering slightly as she took a seat, facing the detectives across the desk. They looked at her, neither speaking.

‘What have I done?’ she asked, at last, tremulously.

A friendly smile spread across McIlhenney’s face. ‘I don’t know, Mae,’ he replied. ‘What have you done?’

‘Nothing that I know of.’

‘Good for you.’ He laughed. ‘I’ve done plenty that I know of, and wouldn’t want to talk about. Don’t worry yourself: it’s not you that’s under the spotlight. Take your hat off, put yourself at your ease.’ He paused as she took him up on the invitation, revealing blonde hair, pulled back behind her head. He glanced at her left hand as it lay on her lap. There was a ring on her third finger, with a chip of something that might have been diamond. ‘Can you remember where you were the Friday morning before last, between seven and nine?’ he continued.

As the constable searched her memory, a little colour began to return to her face. ‘Yes,’ she replied. ‘Most of the time I was filling in for the lollipop man at the primary near the station; he’d called in sick and they needed someone to see the kids across the road.’ She frowned. ‘But nothing happened. I mean, there were no incidents or anything.’

‘I know; that’s not why we want to talk to you.’

‘Is it about Theo?’ she blurted out. ‘I saw him in a waiting room when I was brought up here.’

‘You and he are engaged, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, sort of.’

‘Sort of?’ The superintendent chuckled. ‘That’s a bit like being sort of pregnant, isn’t it? Not that I’m implying anything,’ he added.

PC Grey smiled, briefly. ‘Well yes, we’re definitely engaged.’ She paused. ‘And I’m definitely not pregnant.’

‘First things first, eh?’ said Stallings. ‘Have the two of you set a date yet?’

‘No, not yet. There’s plenty of time for that.’

‘Is that what you both think?’

The constable looked at her a little quizzically. ‘Well, yes, I suppose so.’

‘How long have you been engaged?’

‘Officially?’

‘There’s no other way in my book.’

‘Nearly two years: since three months after we started seeing each other.’

‘That’s a long time, by current standards. But I don’t blame you, not rushing into things, especially since he must have been on the rebound when you met.’

‘On the rebound? No, his marriage was over well before we got together. I’d have been wary otherwise.’

‘Does he ever talk about his ex?’

‘Now and again. He says she was a cow and he doesn’t know why he ever married her.’

‘He’s well out of it, then. But, actually, I wasn’t talking about her. I meant he was on the rebound from Sugar.’

‘Who?’

McIlhenney studied her face: she seemed genuinely bewildered. ‘DI Stallings meant Sugar Dean,’ he said. ‘He was engaged to her before you.’

‘Sugar Dean?’ Grey repeated. ‘The girl that was murdered. Her whose picture’s all over our station?’

‘That’s the girl.’

‘Theo was engaged to her?’

‘He never told you?’

She bit her lip, and shook her head.

‘Maybe you just didn’t realise they were engaged,’ Stallings suggested gently. ‘Maybe he just didn’t make himself clear.’

‘No. I never heard of Sugar Dean until last night, on the news on Talk 107.’

‘Did he ever mention anyone else, other than Lisanne, his ex-wife?’

‘No.’

The inspector frowned. ‘I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Mae, but when did you and Theo first have sex?’

She glanced at McIlhenney: he was staring at a point on the wall. ‘More or less as soon as we started going together.’

‘Were you seeing anyone else at the time?’

‘You mean was I sleeping with anyone else?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘No, and I hadn’t been for some time.’

‘This is where it gets even more delicate. About two years ago, maybe just before you were engaged, did you contract an infection?’

‘I had the flu.’

‘I didn’t mean that kind of infection.’

The constable stared at her; then her face reddened. ‘No!’ she protested. ‘Certainly not!’

‘Thank God for that. But Theo did: he told us so and we’ve confirmed it. That was why his engagement to Sugar ended.’

‘You mean the bitch gave it to him?’

‘No. Other way around.’

The woman seemed to rock back in her seat, stunned by the news. ‘The bastard,’ she hissed. ‘Wait till I see him!’ She thought for a few moments. ‘Of course,’ she went on, ‘it was unlikely that I’d get it, because we always use rubbers. Theo’s always on at me to go on the pill, but I won’t. I don’t fancy the health risks.’

‘I can understand that,’ said Stallings.

‘This disease: did Theo say where he got it?’

‘I think that’s something you have to ask him.’

‘Right now, I’m not sure I want to ask him anything.’

‘Do you find him possessive?’ the inspector asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Jealous.’

‘No, but he’s got no cause to be. Mind you, he’s always asking about the job, who I’ve been working with and such. There was one time I was out on patrol in Livingston and I saw him. I asked if he was following me, and he laughed.’

‘How’s he been lately, Mae?’ McIlhenney asked. ‘His usual self?’

‘Randy as ever.’

‘I know your listed address is your folks’ place, but do you actually live with Theo? No comeback if you do, you can be frank with us.’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’ve suggested it a couple of times, but he’s always said it’s better to wait until we’re married.’

‘Do you have a key to his house?’

‘No, and now I can understand why. You asked how he’s been. Normally Theo’s easy-going, as long as I don’t put pressure on him. . he’s not a guy you nag. . but about three weeks ago I was at his place, and I could tell there was something wrong. Eventually I asked him. At first he said it was nothing, but I could see it wasn’t. So I asked him again, and he said, “She’s a fuckin’ bitch and I could kill her.” I don’t know what Lisanne had done, but it had really got to him.’

‘We don’t think it was Lisanne, Mae. According to his statement, they’re still on intimate terms. We think it was Sugar.’

‘And you think. .’ the woman gasped.

‘Let’s just say that we’re looking into the possibility,’ Stallings told her. ‘That’s all for now, Mae.’ She took a card from her pocket and slid it across the desk. ‘We’ll contact you if we need to speak to you again. If anything else occurs to you, at any time, that’s my mobile number. Don’t hesitate to use it.’