Gallery Whispers

62

'I know the DCC isn't the best delegator in the world,' said Andy Martin, 'but normally he waits to be asked these days before offering advice on investigations. So when he does call me to raise something, especially when it's half-nine on a Monday evening, it emphasises how serious it is.

'I don't have to remind you two that he's back on the prowl, mornings at least.'

He looked at Detective Superintendents Mackie and Pringle. 'As of now, the investigation into the Weston death is re-opened, full strength.

I've spoken to the Fiscal and had the FAI postponed indefinitely. It will run in conjunction with the Murray investigation, with you two in joint day-to-day control, reporting everything to me.

'I'd take full responsibility myself, but for my involvement with the preparations for the economic conference.'

The Head of CID hunched over his coffee. 'We don't need a big team on this, since there isn't any door to door work involved, but we do need integration so that we pick up any overlap between the two investigations. Brian, I want you to review the Weston papers, yet again, and see if there's anything we might have done that we didn't. Clan, Murray's death happened on your patch, so you're the leader on that one. In Maggie Rose's continued absence, since DS Steele was heavily involved with Weston, he's going to work with you directly on Murray, as the principal link between both inquiries.'

Pringle nodded. 'Fair enough,' he said. 'I like young Stevie. If we do come across any coincidences, he's not the boy to miss them.'

'Where are you going to begin, then?'

'I have already,' the superintendent replied. 'Remember? I saw the guy at the bank. He was worse than fuckin' useless, mind you. Today, we're looking for relatives. Mr Murray had no children apparently, but there's a younger sister. She's the next of kin; I've got a car taking her to the Royal this morning to make the formal identification. After that I'll go and have a chat with her, to see what she can tell me.'

'Where does she live?'

'Down in sunny Joppa by the sea.' He glanced at the window of the Head of CID's office. Rain, driven on cold north-east wind, lashed against its panes. 'It'll be really nice down there today,' he added, mournfully.

'I'll envy you every minute of it,' said Martin, grinning as he stood.

'Okay, gentlemen, that's it. Remember, keep me informed all the way.'

He walked with the two divisional commanders to the end of the corridor, waving them off at the top of the stairs. Then, instead of returning to his office, he walked along the length of the Command Corridor and down the flight of stairs which led almost directly to the makeshift conference control centre.

Looking around he noted that all but two of the desks were manned.

As usual, Mario McGuire was seated in the far corner, from where he could see everything that went on in the big room. He ambled across towards the Special Branch commander.

'Hi, Mario, how's it going?'

McGuire shot him a mock scowl. 'Exciting as ever,' he grumbled.

'I've rejected a journalist from the Financial Times; that's been the highlight of my day so far. No, scratch that; the highlight of my week.'

'Why did you bomb him out?'

'Her,' the inspector corrected him. 'She wouldn't put her date of birth on the application form; refused point blank. So we couldn't run a full computer check.'

'Couldn't you have done it through her National Insurance number?'

'Not this one. She's South African.'

'Her name wasn't Hawkins, was it?' Martin asked, with a faint smile.

McGuire shook his head. 'Naw, and she isn't dead, either.'

The Head of CID shrugged. 'Well, it's up to her, but if she doesn't have a ticket, she can't come to the party.' He paused. 'Listen Mario, can I ask you a favour?'

The dark eyebrows rose in surprise. 'Of course you can.'

'Right; it's like this. The Weston case, the one that Maggie was working on when she got cut, has gone pear-shaped again. There's been a second apparent suicide, with exactly the same pattern.

'The boss has ordered me to check the papers on every reported suicide in our area over the last three years, to see if any of them could possibly have been related. Trouble is, I'm stuffed for people-power, and I don't want to call in outside help any more than he does.

'I'm going to have to take Neville or Pye back from you, unless…

Look, I know Mags isn't allowed back for a couple of weeks, but would you mind if I asked her if she could help on this one? It doesn't involve anything more strenuous than reading, and maybe the odd phone call, so she'd be able to do it at home. I wouldn't ask her behind your back though. So, what'd you say?'

'I say go ahead, sir. I don't have a problem with that.' McGuire grinned. 'Now if I said "No way", and she found out about it later: that would be a problem.'