Private Investigations

Fourteen

For all that she tried to present a confident front to her seniors, Detective Constable Jackie Wright felt that she had yet to find her feet in CID. She saw her main strength in sourcing information, and she was pleased that she had been able to help in identifying the child who had been found dead in Edinburgh that morning, but at the same time she recognised that a civilian clerk with computer skills and a contact list could have done the same job.

To compound her doubts about her own value, there were some occasions when she found herself frustrated, all options exhausted, and with nothing else to do but to go to Sauce Haddock, and admit failure.

‘I’m sorry, Sarge,’ she said. ‘I’ve got as far as I can. The Ministry of Defence are not coming close to being cooperative. All they’ve done is to confirm that David Gates is a naval lieutenant, and that he’s currently on service, an officer in the submarine section. They won’t put me in touch with him and they won’t even promise to pass a message to him.

‘The man I spoke to was unbelievable. I told him that it was essential that we speak to Lieutenant Gates, but it cut no ice. He wouldn’t guarantee to get any information to him, or give me a contact number for him. I don’t know what to do next.’

‘You’ve done it, Jackie,’ the DS told her. ‘You’ve told the man’s employer that we need to speak to him, and now you’ve reported it up the line to me. I couldn’t have done any more and I doubt the DCI could either.’

‘But the way they behaved, Sauce,’ Wright protested. ‘It’s ridiculous.’

‘There’ll be operational reasons for it,’ Haddock told her. ‘The man is a submariner; you’ve established that. These people go on cruises for months and for a lot of that time they’re submerged. If that’s where he is, let him stay there.’

‘But he needs to know!’

‘Does he? If he is on sensitive active service, what would it do to him to get news like that?’ The young sergeant paused to consider his own question, then continued with another. ‘Who was your contact in the MoD?’

‘His name’s Blackett; he’s in the naval personnel department.’

‘Then go back to him,’ Haddock instructed. ‘Get him to guarantee that as soon as Lieutenant Gates is in a position to be contacted we’ll be advised and given facilities to interview him. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that the number two ranking minister in his department is an MP for a Scottish constituency, then ask him whether he fancies being named in a phone call from our boss to one of his bosses. If he brushes you off after that, let me know. I saw the look in DCC McGuire’s eyes at the crime scene this morning. If we asked him, he’d make the call in a second.’

‘Okay, Sarge,’ Wright replied. ‘I suppose it isn’t important that we speak to Gates right away,’ she conceded.

‘What makes you say that?’ the DS countered, sharply. ‘If not right away, we need to interview him as soon as possible, make no mistake.’

‘But he can’t be a suspect if he’s a few thousand miles away.’

‘Suspect, no, but regardless of his location, he’s a victim. And, regardless of his location, he’s a potential witness. Do he or Grete have any enemies? Does either of them have a bunny-boiler ex-partner out there? Until she recovers consciousness, if she ever does, only he can tell us. How sensitive is his naval job? Could the attack and the abduction be connected with that? As for him being a suspect, stranger things have happened . . . and if he is party to a conspiracy, what better alibi than to be sitting under a polar icecap or somewhere similar at the time of the crime?’

‘Okay, Sarge. I’ll call Blackett back, right away.’ The young DC sighed. ‘I’ll never be any good at this job, will I?’

‘Hey, don’t be like that,’ Haddock chuckled. ‘You are good at it.’ He turned to Pye who was in the driver’s seat as they headed along the A1, towards Edinburgh. ‘Isn’t she, boss?’

‘You’re doing fine, Jackie,’ the DCI said into the car’s Bluetooth microphone. ‘I’ve had to deal with these MoD people. They can redefine difficult if they’re that way inclined. If you really want, I’ll phone Blackett myself, but I’d rather you had the pleasure of telling him what DS Haddock said will happen if he doesn’t loosen up.’

‘Thanks, sir,’ she replied, her self-confidence shored up. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘Straight away,’ Pye added. ‘You’re doing a great job behind that desk, but you should have some fresh air. I’m going to have to attend poor wee Zena’s autopsy, so DS Haddock will need a sidekick when he goes in search of our prime suspect. We’ll be with you in ten minutes.’