Lethal Intent

Forty-eight

Malky Gladsmuir did not have the sunniest of dispositions at the best of times, and his mood was never improved by a visit from the police. So when Mario McGuire shoved his way through the heavy swing doors and into the Wee Black Dug, he was greeted with the scowl that he had expected.

The detective superintendent glanced around as he shook the snow from his jacket. The looming weather had taken a drastic toll of the evening turn-out: only two drinkers leaned against the bar, while another sat at a table in the furthest corner of the saloon. The assistant barman, with little to do, fixed most of his attention on a snooker tournament on television.

'What can I do for you?' asked Gladsmuir, with a degree of belligerence that almost brought a smile to McGuire's face.

'Your office: now.' He stepped behind the bar, as the pub manager shrugged and opened a door behind him.

'You're not to bother me,' he protested. 'Did you not get told?'

'Sit down, Malky.'

'Ah'll stand if I want.' Gladsmuir backed towards his desk, reaching behind him with his right hand and picking up a heavy glass paperweight.

'Okay, if that's how you want it.' He took half a pace forward; the cornered man swung at his head, hard and fast, but the detective simply smashed aside his assault, sending the weapon flying into a corner of the room, then hit him, once, hard, in the middle of the forehead. The publican's eyes glazed, his legs turned to jelly and he slumped semi-conscious into the chair behind him.

McGuire grinned. 'I told you to sit down.'

He waited until Gladsmuir's eyes began to focus once more, then pulled up the small office's other chair and sat facing him. 'That's the second time we've done this dance in here, Malky,' he said. 'When's it going to dawn on you that it'll only ever get you hurt? Or did your talk with Greg Jay make you think you were safe from me? Tell me something, my friend, which of us really scares you the most? Me or Greg?'

'You don't scare me,' Gladsmuir retorted; but his tone branded him a liar. 'Mr Jay never threatened me; he never came in here looking for trouble.'

'Neither did I; all I wanted was a conversation. It was you who took a swing at me, remember? But, Malky, did you really think that you could just go whining to Greg and that he'd warn me off, tell me to let you carry on with whatever sleazy understanding you and he had? I've told you before and I'm telling you again: I know that in his time this place was a police-free zone, but those days are gone.'

'I don't know what you mean.'

McGuire laughed. 'Don't give me that! Of course you do. What I want now is for you to tell me how it operated, what sort of stuff you were feeding him to make it worth his while. It doesn't show from my divisional records, that's for sure. I've been talking to my guys as well. None of them could recall a single arrest that was made on the basis of a tip from you. All they said was that Greg let it be known that you were his. I'll say this for him, he kept your cover bloody well. Come on, what did you give him?'

'Stuff,' the publican mumbled.

'What you mean "stuff"?'

'This and that, just wee things I heard in the pub.'

'Such as?'

'I can't remember.'

'You'd better start, pal. While you're thinking about it, tell me how you came to complain to Greg about me.'

'Ah didn't, honest. He came in here to see me. It was him that asked me how things were going wi' you. I told him the truth, that you wanted me to keep on feeding stuff to you, but that there were to be no more scams going on in here.'

'Is that you admitting that there were, and Greg knew about it?'

'I'm admitting nothing.'

McGuire leaned forward and stuck out his chin. 'Take another swing at me, Malky, go on.'

'Naw! Why? Are you daft?'

'No, I'd just like another excuse to get your attention, that's all. I'll ask you again. Was something happening here, and did Greg Jay know about it and turn a blind eye? I want the truth, or you and I are going to my office, and very publicly too, for as long as it takes. Now, give me a one-word answer within the next five seconds. One…'

He had reached 'three', when Malky Gladsmuir muttered, 'Yes.'

'That's good,' said the big detective. 'That's the first sensible thing you've said to me since I walked in here. Now we've made this breakthrough, let's have the rest, all of it.'