Dead And Buried

Seven

‘It’s been a funny old Friday,’ Sammy Pye mused.

‘Maybe so,’ Detective Sergeant Ray Wilding said, ‘but it’s been on the cards. Your gaffer was always going to take over from Dan Pringle: it was only a matter of when.’

‘What about you, Ray? Are you not pissed off at being moved out?’

‘Not a bit. I don’t know Mr McGuire and he doesn’t know me, so I didn’t expect to stay on when he was appointed. Actually I’m pleased to be back on the operational side: being the head of CID’s assistant might look good on your record, but it gets boring after a while. . at least it did with Dan Pringle.’

‘I wonder what he’ll do now.’

‘He might drink himself to death, I fear. He’s got no interests outside the job, as far as I could see, other than the Masons.’

‘Have you seen him since he chucked it?’

‘No. He didn’t even come in to clear his desk: he just called and asked me to have all his stuff sent to the house. The DCC told me to organise a whip-round, and I’ve done that. You’ll find the money locked in the filing cabinet in your office.’ Wilding handed Pye an envelope. ‘These are the keys. There’ll be some more dough to come in from Borders and West Lothian. Mr Skinner said that once it’s all gathered, you should touch base with big Jack McGurk, in his office, to organise a farewell do and presentation.’ Wilding looked around the office. ‘So this is Leith, eh? You know what? I’ve been in the job for nine years, and I’ve never been in here before. Do you know anything about my new boss?’

‘DCI Mackenzie? Only that he’s got a reputation for being a bit flash, and for sailing a bit close to the wind at times.’

‘How will that go down with your man?’

‘Fine,’ said Pye, ‘as long as he stays off the rocks and gets results. But we won’t see much of him: he reports to Neil McIlhenney, remember, not Mr McGuire.’

‘Of course. It’s funny,’ Wilding mused. ‘When I joined the force those two were a bit of a legend, great mates, liked a pint, wild boys. Now here they are, running CID and pillars of the force establishment. Your boss might not have changed that much, but you’d barely recognise McIlhenney from what he was then.’

‘A lot of people have underestimated big Neil in their time. Many of them are still locked up. Mind you, from the hints I’ve picked up, he underestimated himself too. Not any more, though.’

‘Should I watch out for him?’

‘No, he’s a good bloke. You watch out for Mackenzie, that’s all.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind. Now, what about this hand-over we’re supposed to be doing? I hear a story about a body being found in a van in Newcraighall the other day. Is that one of yours?’

‘This office attended, but Dottie Shannon told me it was a suicide, so you won’t find a file on that.’

Wilding scratched his chin. ‘Dottie Shannon. I’m sorry she’s going; I’ve fancied her since she was a probationer. Of course, back then she was going with. .’

‘Don’t have any wet dreams over Dottie: she’s paired off. Besides, she’s too old for you.’ Pye picked up the top folder from the small pile on his in-tray. ‘She and I were out on an investigation this morning. The story’s all in here.’ He described the attempted robbery at the Evesham Street bookmaker’s, and its grisly outcome.

‘Did you get a match on the print?’

‘No, God damn it, we did not. They’re working on DNA comparisons, but I don’t see us doing any better there: if they don’t have fingerprints on file, they’re unlikely to have that either. That means that the robber is a first offender, not known to the police. He hasn’t shown up at any hospital as yet, and our telephone trawl of health centres has come up with nothing. My next step was going to be to ask all officers to keep an eye open, on and off duty, for a tall young man with a bandaged hand, but that’s as far as I can take it.’

‘So, putting it as delicately as I can, Sammy,’ Wilding grinned, ‘you’re leaving me fuck all to go on.’

‘Not quite. You’ve got the weird Mr Smith’s vague recollection of having seen the suspect before. Against that, you’ve got a conflict between him and Starr over his age. I haven’t made up my mind how reliable either of them are.’

‘Is it worth much more effort, do you think? I mean, the robbery failed and the perpetrator’s been punished pretty effectively. What would you do if you were staying here?’

‘I’d probably dump it in my boss’s lap,’ Pye answered, ‘and tell him to decide. You’re right, Ray: there’s been justice done, of a sort. My only niggle is a personal one. I really don’t like that bastard Starr. I’ve had this mad scenario in my head, where we arrest the robber, he gets a soft judge to give him probation, and he gets legal aid to sue Starr in the civil court.’

‘And probably gets one pound compensation from the jury for the loss of his finger.’

‘Sure.’ Pye sighed. ‘I told you it was a mad idea. Ah, you know what really bugs me, Ray? It’s the idea of my last investigation in this place being written off as unsolved.’

Wilding patted him on the shoulder. ‘Take it on the chin, Sammy. When you’re head of CID in ten years’ time, nobody will remember a thing about it.’

‘The man with the missing finger will. And that little bastard Starr will probably still be telling the story at dinner parties!’f’