Gallery Whispers

73

Brian Mackie was in his office, in the early'afternoon, dictating a sanitised note for the record of his interview with Beano Litster in Aberdeen, when the phone rang. He picked it up and heard, to his private delight, Maggie Rose's voice at the other end. He had just been thinking of how much he missed his deputy.

'Good afternoon, Brian,' she said. 'This is a left-handed phone call just to keep you in touch with my trawl through the suicide files. God, if I'd known that I was taking on-'

'I can imagine. Depressing is it?'

'You don't imagine; that's the trick. You switch your imagination off for the duration. Poor old Mario, he's come home to serious grief every night since I started doing this job. Did you know that there were over a hundred suicides in our force area last year alone? And I've got three years' worth to go through.'

'Do I get the impression that you're not calling to tell me that you've made a big breakthrough?'

Maggie laughed, shortly. 'You do indeed, superintendent. I'm just calling to let you know that I am now one third of the way through, without finding the slightest hint of anything that reminds me of the Weston or Murray deaths. I am also calling simply to blow off steam.

After all, why should my innocent husband catch all the flak?'

'Why indeed?' Mackie answered. 'How's the arm, by the way?'

'Itching like what I'm too much of a lady to say. I've got a light cast on it at the moment, to immobilise it. That comes off on Monday; then the rehab work should start.'

'That's good. You'll be glad to hear that the maggot who did it has been charged with murder in Birmingham, remanded in custody, and sent back up here. There's a pleading diet at the Sheriff Court on Tuesday, at which, I am reliably informed, he will admit to serious assault and be sent to the High Court for sentence.'

'He's pleading, is he? I'm surprised at that; I didn't think he was the type.'

Mackie grunted. 'David Pettigrew gave him a straight choice; plead to the assault or be tried for attempt to murder. He thinks he's got a deal, but Big Bob told me that he's had a word with the Lord Advocate.

When the case comes up for sentence the Crown will lay it on thick, say that this was a hair's breadth away from murder and ask for fifteen years. They doubt if he'll get that, but they reckon that the judge, whoever he is, will be scared to give him less than twelve, in case the Crown appeals against it. The Bench doesn't like being accused of leniency; especially in cases like this.'

'He'll do his stretch down south though, won't he?' asked Rose.

'It'll take at least a year to bring him to trial for the other offence … if they ever do, because one of the key witnesses is dead, they've discovered. Whatever happens he's got at least one winter in Peterhead to look forward to.'

'You've made my day,' said the Chief Inspector. 'I'm glad I phoned.

I feel better now.'

'That's good,' laughed Mackie. 'See you soon.'

The phone was hardly back in its cradle before it rang again. 'Yes?' the superintendent said curtly.

'Hello sir,' said a voice at the other end. 'It's Craig Garland, here, from Aberdeen. I'm just phoning to let you know that Raymond Weston just left the city, heading south. I've been following him ever since, at a discreet distance. He's just stopped and gone into a pub in Stonehaven.'

'Let's hope he doesn't get nicked for drunk driving.'

'Do you want me to follow him all the way, sir? My boss has given me clearance to do so.'

'No, sergeant, you don't need to leave your patch. What's he driving?'

'A red Polo: registration mark F213 TJL.'

'That's fine. I'll make arrangements at this end; we know where he's going. I'll drop a formal note to your boss, but meantime, thanks Craig, for all your help.' Mackie hung up, then dialled Superintendent Pringle's direct number on his hands-free. 'Clan,' he announced, as soon as the call was answered, 'Brian here. The boy Raymond's coming home for the weekend.'

'Right,' Pringle grunted. 'He needs taste be met, then. What do you think?'

'As I see it, we just keep Weston's house and the girlfriend's flat under observation. Do we know where she lives?'

'Aye, Stevie sweet-talked her address out of the hospital personnel department.'

'Let's just watch them both until he shows. We don't need CID for that job, just a couple of uniforms in unmarked cars, with their collars turned up and their hats off. Wherever and whenever he shows up, they can call us then.'

'Fair enough. I think we should wait till they get together before we lift them. And wherever they are we should have a legal excuse to search.'

'That's no problem,' said Mackie, at once. 'I have information from Aberdeen that Ray Weston's been using and supplying prohibited and controlled drugs. I'll go and see the Sheriff this afternoon and get a warrant to search the girl's flat and Professor Weston's place, both of them if necessary.'

'Ah don't think the Prof'11 like that.'

'Then it'll be tough on him, won't it, mate. This is a double murder investigation. Mind you,' he added, after a moment's thought, 'I think I'll run it past the DCC, just to cover our tails.'

'Aye,' Pringle agreed, 'just as well if you do. Mine's getting too near retiring age for it to be left exposed.'