Fatal Last Words

Thirty-two

‘How are the kids doing with the jet lag?’ asked McIlhenney.

‘Not too bad,’ Skinner replied; his voice had a slight echo, and there was road noise behind it. ‘The boys were up before me. . that’s unusual, James Andrew could sleep for Scotland. . but Seonaid went pretty much all through the night. The nanny’s the one who’s suffering most of all; seems to me that children handle travel better than adults. Maybe their body clocks aren’t as firmly set as ours. But if Trish does go without sleep for a few days, she’ll soon be back to normal. She’s on holiday from Saturday, and then she’s heading back across the Atlantic, bound for Barbados to see her sister.’

‘Making you and Aileen full-time parents for a while?’

‘Yes, and I have to say I’m looking forward to it. The boys will be back to school soon, plus tomorrow’s Jimmy’s last day, so I have good reasons to keep close to home and close to the office. This trip to see Andy’s a bit of an inconvenience, truth be told, but I’ve got to do it.’

‘Listen, boss, about what happened between him and me; it all worked out on the end, so maybe it’s best left to stick to the wall, yes?’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going up there to tear a strip off him. I need that list of Ainsley Glover’s out of his safe. That’s my main reason for going to see him, although. . we might have a friendly chat while I’m there. That’s if I ever get there; I’m stuck in a tailback on the Forth Bridge at the moment.’ He paused. ‘Any developments in the Glover situation? That’s partly what I called to ask you.’

‘One. I’ve just had a call from Sammy. Wilding and Cowan have taken a formal statement from Anderson, and he repeated the story that he got in soon after eleven thirty, and didn’t go out again. And just in case he tries to retract and say he got the time mixed up, we’ve got a witness who followed him out of the Book Festival and down the street.’

‘A reliable witness?’

‘Lord Elmore reliable enough for you?’

‘Claus Blackman? You couldn’t get better. I take it that Wilding’s having Anderson’s statement typed up for signature.’

‘He doesn’t have to. The guy typed it up on his own computer and printed it out for them, there and then.’

‘What do you do next?’

‘We’re going to re-interview Sandy Rankin, and get her story formalised. Then we can go to the Sheriff, present Anderson’s account and hers, and get a warrant to search his premises.’

‘Rankin’s a journalist, remember; she may figure out what you’re working up to.’

‘Then let her. I don’t care who Anderson is, he’s lied to police investigating a homicide and thus put himself in the frame. If he gets his name in the papers, that’ll be too damn bad. Many another force would tip off the media before turning up to execute the warrant; at least we’re not going to do that.’

‘It’s a tempting thought, though,’ said Skinner. ‘I owe Xavi Aislado one, and Anderson as well, in a different way; it would be a good way to repay them both.’

‘Are you serious? I could have someone make a call, if you want.’

‘If I was serious, Neil, I’d make the fucking call myself. There was a time when I might have, but now I’ve got to be spotless.’

‘Sure, you’re going to be chief constable in two days.’

‘Acting, Detective Superintendent, only acting. But still, examples have to be set, and I don’t want our force to be known for pulling stunts for the TV cameras. Hey,’ he called out suddenly, ‘traffic’s moving, at bloody last.’

‘I’d better let you get your eyes back on the road in that case.’

‘Not yet; I’m not finished. Something occurred to me, about that call from Aislado, and the story he spiked for us. Not about what was in it, but what wasn’t. Thanks to DCS McGuire, that avid reader of crime fiction, we know that whoever killed Glover lifted the method of his murder out of one of his own books. The only people we’ve told about the cause of death are his son, his daughter, and his future son-in-law, the Saltire’s ace sports reporter. They all must have read the old boy’s books, so doesn’t it strike you as strange that Ed Collins didn’t include the link to that plot line in the copy he filed?’

‘He’s a sports reporter, boss, not a news man.’

‘Neil, I’m not a journo, but even I know a front-page headline when I see one. “Novelist foretold own murder!” Come on. Why would he leave that out?’

‘Are you saying he didn’t want to go too far in what he wrote?’

‘No, I’m asking, that’s all.’

‘Then so will we. But first we’ll do some checking up at Deacon Brodie’s to see if anyone actually remembers Carol and Wilkie Glover being there on Saturday night. I’ll make sure that Sammy does it too; he’s never met the family, so he’ll approach it with a harder edge than Ray and Alice. They spent half of yesterday with the kids.’

‘Good thinking. Now I am off. See you when I get back.’

McIlhenney cradled his phone, but only for a second, before picking it up and calling Pye’s mobile number. He had decided that the murder investigation should base itself in Charlotte Square Gardens for only one more day, before moving to the team’s Leith office, and that there was no point in having landline telephones installed. ‘Where are we with Rankin?’ he asked, as the DI responded.

‘Ray and Alice are with her now. They ran her to ground at a hotel up in Jeffrey Street, and went up there to see her.’

‘And you?’

‘Sauce and I have some more people to interview from the Saturday night reception, but mostly I’m waiting for Rankin to confirm her statement about Anderson.’

‘I’ve got something else for you.’ He briefed Pye on the question that Skinner had raised over the odd omission from Ed Collins’s Saltire story.

‘Yes,’ the inspector conceded, ‘it’s a thought. I’d intended going to Deacon Brodie’s anyway, to confirm their stories, but to be frank I regarded that as a formality so it wasn’t at the top of my to-do list. Now I find myself thinking of something June Connelly said, that Glover hadn’t really taken to Collins, and only tolerated him for his daughter’s sake. Yes, I’ll take a closer look at the guy.’

‘Put a bit of pressure on him, Sammy. Have him come to you. Christ, have him brought to you if necessary.’

‘Who has priority? Him or Anderson?’

‘It isn’t a question of priorities. Whatever manpower resources you need, I’ll make sure you have them. Becky Stallings and Jack McGurk are round in Torphichen Place with a light caseload. You want them, I’ll bring them in. Don’t worry about Becky being a DI; you’ll still be the lead investigator.’

‘Thanks, sir. Let me think about that one.’

‘Don’t think for too long. This inquiry’s complicated; we’ve caught Anderson in a lie, Collins may be a second suspect and, to cap it all, the victim’s home’s been burgled and all his data stolen.’

‘Maybe not all of it. We’ve impounded Carol Glover’s desktop for examination; could be we’ll find something there. Then there’s that mysterious list in DCC Martin’s safe. That may relate.’

McIlhenney frowned, and took a decision. ‘Sammy, we have to keep up the pace. Send the daughter’s computer along to Torphichen. I’ll brief Stallings and McGurk; they can handle that aspect of the investigation, and report to you on it.’

‘Yes, boss.’ Pye sounded relieved. ‘I’ll do that now.’

The superintendent hung up once more, but before he could pick up to call Stallings, the phone rang. He snatched at it. ‘Yes,’ he said impatiently.

‘Sir,’ a familiar voice began. ‘It’s George Regan, out in East Lothian.’ On his return to duty following a family tragedy, Regan had been promoted to detective inspector and transferred to the rural area to the south and east of the city. McIlhenney knew that he was not a man to be calling him on a trivial matter.

‘Yes, George,’ he replied. ‘What have you got?’

‘A dead guy, sir, and what could be a nasty situation.’