Fatal Last Words

Forty-five

‘You know what really pisses me off, Anthea?’ Sammy Pye asked angrily. ‘No, and you don’t give a shit either, but let me tell you. We’re in the middle of a murder investigation, and we’ve got some important questions that need answering, but we can’t, because DC Haddock and I have been sidetracked to deal with you and your miserable little habit, because we had the misfortune to be the officers who found your stash.’

‘My client denies having a habit.’ The woman leaned across the interview table as she spoke, blonde, sharp-faced and just as sharply dressed, in a silver suit. Her name was Susannah Himes, nickname, the ‘Barracuda’; she was Lady Walters’ solicitor, instructed by her father, and the interview had been delayed by half an hour to await her arrival, to the detectives’ intense annoyance. The DI had never met her, but he knew of her reputation as a ‘fixer’ at the top end of the criminal market. (‘The poor people get Frankie Bristles,’ he had told Haddock, ‘the well-off call Himes.’) ‘And it’s Lady Anthea, by the way,’ she added.

‘Your client can deny all she likes, but the blood test results that I have before me say different. So do the packets of brown that we found in the toes of her shoes, in her house. So does the copper teapot, liberally dusted with heroin and with her fingerprints. . and nobody else’s. . all over it. As for her title, Ms Himes, welcome to the twenty-first century. I’m doing her the courtesy of addressing her by her forename; be happy with that.’

‘I’m not happy at all,’ the lawyer replied with a show of belligerence.

‘Aw, cut the bluster, please,’ the DI told her. ‘We both know the game: you’ll earn your fee by persuading the fiscal to reduce the charges against your client in return for a guilty plea, and you’ll keep her out of jail on the back of a promise to enter rehab. Plus, you’re expected to persuade me to bail her this afternoon, pending a court appearance. The first of those aren’t within my control, but the last is, and I’m not playing. Your client will be held in custody overnight, and she’ll appear in court tomorrow; you can make your bail plea to the Sheriff, not to me. But when the fiscal tells her that Lady. .’ he paused ‘. . Anthea, was in charge of a child while zonked out of her head, you might find that your task is that bit tougher.’

‘And what of Dr Anderson?’ Himes shot back. ‘My understanding is that he fled the scene when the drugs were found. When will he be charged?’

‘There isn’t a scrap of evidence linking Dr Anderson to the heroin. It was in her wardrobe, in her shoes, on her premises, not his, and he denies all knowledge. As for his leaving, it’s been established that he had other reasons for that. He’s on his way home as I speak, to collect his daughter. If I were you, I’d be trying to persuade the Duke of Lanark to turn up in court tomorrow in person, to put in a word for his daughter. The Sheriff might just be persuaded to release her into his custody, and we might not oppose that.’

‘How very gracious of you,’ the accused woman exclaimed. ‘Bloody little policeman. As if my father could be summoned to-’

‘Ah, shut the fuck up!’ Pye snapped, silencing her, and startling DC Haddock by his side. He stared hard at the lawyer. ‘We’re finished here, Ms Himes,’ he said, rising from his chair. ‘See you tomorrow morning. Sauce, take the prisoner back to the cells and hand her over to the custody sergeant.’

‘Susannah!’ Anthea Walters protested, but her solicitor looked at the desk top and shrugged her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, ‘but if the inspector chooses to take this line, there’s nothing I can do at this stage.’

‘My father knows a couple of High Court judges. He’ll call them if you ask him.’

‘That would not help, I promise you.’

The woman’s eyes flashed, as if an inspired thought had broken the surface of the cloudy pond that was her mind. ‘He knows Sir James Proud too; the chief constable. Get him to phone him and tell him to put a stop to this nonsense.’

The DI and the lawyer exchanged glances. ‘Lady Walters,’ Pye explained, ‘the chief retires tomorrow. I think your father would find that his call would be referred to his deputy. But it wouldn’t matter, because either one of them would back me up.’ He glanced at Haddock. ‘Sauce, take her back. I’ll escort Ms Himes out of the building.’

As the DC stepped towards her, he thought for a moment that the woman would resist. He smiled at her, saying, wordlessly, ‘Help me, please.’ Finally her shoulders slumped, and when he took her lightly by the elbow and guided her towards the door, she went with him, meekly.

‘This isn’t a class thing, is it, Detective Inspector?’ asked Himes as they walked back to the Torphichen Place front office.

‘No,’ he replied, sincerely, ‘not in the slightest. I don’t care who she is, and even less who her father is. With the amount of heroin she had in her possession, it’s automatic that the Sheriff decides whether or not she’s bailed. And don’t tell me you don’t know that.’

Himes smiled, and suddenly her face did not seem quite as sharp. ‘I won’t,’ she said, ‘and don’t tell me you don’t know when you see a lawyer performing for the cameras either. . even if there wasn’t one in your interview room. Will you oppose bail?’

‘Truthfully, I’ve got no interest. You won’t see me tomorrow morning. I’m involved today because I found the stuff, that’s all. The drugs people will make the running from now on, ours and probably the Scottish Drug Enforcement Agency, given the media profile this will attract. They’ll interview her as well before she goes to court; if she gives up her supplier, they might ask the fiscal to take his foot off the gas. If not, it’ll be full speed ahead, and you will have some job keeping her out of prison.’

‘But I will, don’t you fret.’

‘We’ll see. I’ll tell you one thing, although you probably realise it anyway. I wouldn’t let her anywhere near a jury; she’d be her own worst enemy.’

‘What about Anderson?’

Pye made a face. ‘I don’t think she’ll find him rushing to be a character witness; his daughter told my DC that she saw her using the kettle once. When she asked, Anthea said it was an inhaler for a chest cold, so she didn’t mention it to her dad. Apparently Tanya’s worldly-wise for her age, but dragon-chasing’s a bit beyond her, thanks be.’

‘Thanks for sharing that, but what I actually meant was what about Anderson and your murder inquiry? Am I likely to be having a call from him?’

‘He says you’re not. I’ll hear the rest of his story tomorrow morning.’

‘What made him stop running?’

‘Not what, who. My DCC did.’

The blonde solicitor whistled. ‘That’s a surprise. The word is that if Dr Bruce is ever crucified, Skinner will hammer in the nails.’

‘Our big boss is full of surprises,’ said Pye as they reached the main entrance. ‘Good luck for tomorrow.’ He paused. ‘And one more thing: I might know when somebody’s playing to the gallery, but my young DC doesn’t, not yet, so when it happens, I have to do the same thing. Next time our paths cross, let’s agree a truce before the interview, not after it.’

‘That would be nice,’ Himes agreed, ‘but you know how it is with clients. They like to see a bit of drama for their money. So I’m sorry, Mr Pye, it looks as if we’ll always be going to each other’s throats.’

Her smile stayed with him for a while after she had gone, until he turned and jogged up a nearby flight of stairs, to the CID suite. Becky Stallings was in her office as he reached it, sat behind her desk, frowning at a flat-screen monitor.

‘Sammy,’ she exclaimed as he entered. ‘Just the man I want to see. Your victim’s daughter’s computer.’ She reached down and slapped the top of a PC tower by her side. ‘It’s been a bit of a bugger, but I finally got into Mr Glover’s files. I went through all the obvious passwords, daughter’s name, son’s name, combinations of names and birthdays; nothing worked. And then I went back to basics, tried the screen name fatallyg as password. No joy there either, but when I reversed it and keyed in gyllataf, then “Bingo”, as we said in the Met, or “Ya fuckin’ beauty”, the local equivalent, or so I understand from my Ray.’ And then her pleasure seemed to evaporate before his eyes. ‘But you know what? It’s been largely a waste of time.’

‘How come?’ Pye asked.

‘Your victim was a very thorough man. He wasn’t content with hiding an email entity on his daughter’s internet service, he left barely a trace on that of what he’s been up to. The programme Miss Glover uses automatically files incoming and outgoing emails, not within the computer itself, unless you tell it to do that, but on line, in the provider’s main server. You’ll find them there for a couple of months, until they go off line,’ she grimaced, ‘or until the user deletes them manually, as your murder victim appears to have done. I’ve checked and there’s damn all there; incoming, outgoing, it’s all been wiped.’

‘But you can recover deleted files, can’t you?’

‘Not these ones, because they were never stored inside this computer.’

‘How about the service provider’s terminal? Won’t they still be there?’

‘Not with the one that Miss Glover uses. I’ve checked, and customer deleted files are gone for all time.’

‘Is that usual?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m only interested in what’s happened here.’

‘No, I meant is it usual for email users to do that?’

‘I’m guessing, but I wouldn’t have thought so. Your man’s been super-careful. He has not wanted anyone, not even his daughter, apparently, if she couldn’t give you his password, to find out what he’s been up to.’

‘So we’ve got nothing?’

‘Not quite,’ said Stallings. ‘There’s one thing he didn’t delete, presumably because he needed to keep it somewhere and this was his most secure location. His mailing list, his address book; that’s still intact.’ She handed him a sheet of paper. ‘I’ve printed a copy. That’s it, the sum total of my labours.’ She glanced down at the computer. ‘The box itself can go back to its owner.’

Pye frowned. ‘Not yet, Becky,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry to be so persistent, but I’d like you to go back in there, into Carol’s files.’

‘Why?’

‘To see if it’s possible that anyone else has been rummaging around in there. If they had done, would they have left a trace.’

‘It’s possible,’ she conceded. ‘OK, I’ll have a look. Don’t hold your breath waiting for results, though. Chances are you’d go blue in the face.’