Private Investigations

Thirty

‘Do you think he meant it, Sauce?’ Sammy Pye murmured, as he parked on a yellow line on St John’s Road. He had been quiet throughout the drive from the Fettes building.

‘Nah,’ the DS replied, dismissively. ‘The DCC was winding you up.’

‘I’m not so sure. I’ve known Mario McGuire for a lot longer than you have; I reckon I can tell when he’s serious and when he isn’t.’

‘Then the chief was winding him up.’

‘Unlikely. Only two guys ever did that: his mate Neil McIlhenney, who’s a commander in the Met these days, and Bob Skinner. You don’t know Andy Martin either; you were a wet-eared plod when he left for Tayside. He might be a smooth operator on the outside, but inside he’s a hard, ruthless bastard. Look at the way he treated Alex Skinner.’

‘How did he treat her?’ Haddock asked. ‘You’re right; I’m new on the block as far as that’s concerned.’

‘He had it off with her when she was barely out of her teens. Big Bob went ballistic when he found out, but they got engaged, he calmed down, and Andy was flavour of the month again. Then he chucked her . . . nobody ever found out why . . . and went off and married Karen Neville. A couple of kids later, he walked out on Karen, and he was back in with Alex. Karen rejoined the force and moved back down here from Perth. Then the top job came up, Andy got it, and it was all off again with him and Alex. On top of that, Karen’s got a DI promotion through in the west, and so Andy can be nearer his kids.’

‘And nearer his ex-wife too?’

Pye shook his head. ‘No, there’s not a prayer of that happening. Karen’s a pal from way back; we’re close still, so I know that even if the thought crosses his mind, he’ll get nowhere. She’s done with him.’

‘And I suppose the chief knows,’ Haddock ventured, ‘that you and Karen are close. Do you think . . . ?’

‘That he might have it in for me? Fuck, that never occurred to me. I’ll tell you one thing, Sauce,’ he growled, ‘if he does try to second me into some backwater desk job, I’m not having it. I’ll be off.’

‘You can’t. What would you do?’

‘I don’t know, but I’d find something.’ Pye smiled. ‘Maybe I’d join Bob Skinner.’

‘Join him in what?’

‘In whatever he’s doing. I don’t buy in to all this media stuff, or the Security Industry Authority board job that’s just been announced. There’s too much cop in him to walk away from it altogether. He’s an investigator; it’s what he does. It’s in his blood.’

‘How does he feel about his pal now,’ Sauce asked, ‘after what he did to Alex?’

‘I don’t know. The only thing I will say is that if you hurt her, you are in more trouble than you could ever imagine, and I don’t care who the fuck you are.’

Pye took the key from the ignition and laid a crested ‘Police on duty’ card on the dashboard. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s go and lean on these two clowns.’

The detectives stepped out of the car and walked the few yards to the door of the takeaway. There were no customers, but Ian Harbison was behind the service counter. As they entered, he did not react; instead he continued staring at the wall. Radio Forth was playing in the background, a news reader halfway through a football news story.

‘Drizzle,’ Haddock said quietly, turning the sign on the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’. Harbison jumped, and turned to face them.

‘You two,’ he murmured. ‘What I just heard on the radio: it’s true, is it? Dino’s dead?’

‘Afraid so,’ the DS replied. ‘And Singer.’

‘Yeah? Bloody hell!’

‘What time did they leave here yesterday?’

Drizzle stared. ‘What are you talking about? They were never here.’

Pye glared at him. ‘That’s not what the pathologist says. Unless some other takeaway was doing a venison special yesterday, they were here.’

‘If they were, I never saw them,’ he insisted. ‘I told you, if I’d seen Dino, I’d have called you. But . . . I was front of house in the afternoon. Jagger was in the kitchen.’

‘Is he there now?’

‘Yes. Hold on.’ Harbison turned and opened the door behind him. ‘Jagger,’ he barked. ‘Get your fucking arse in here!’

A few seconds later, Michael Smith appeared, in an apron and a white trilby, frowning. ‘What the fuck’s up wi’ . . .’ He stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Pye and Haddock. ‘Aw no! Gie’s a break.’

‘Dino’s dead,’ his friend said, bluntly. ‘Him and Singer.’

‘What?’ he gasped, mouth agape.

‘It’s just been on the radio. They were found last night, shot dead in a car, up in the Pentlands. Dino didn’t have a car that I know of, but I’ve got a hell of a feeling that there was one parked out the back of this place yesterday afternoon.’

Jagger flared up and took a step forward, his loose lips pouting. ‘Aye, well?’ he snarled. ‘He’s ma mate, so . . .’ Drizzle met him halfway, with a headbutt that landed above his left eye; he howled and reeled back, his hands going to his face.

‘You half-witted twat,’ Harbison snapped. ‘You knew the guy was wanted for taking that kid. We are on probation, both of us. If you get caught helping him, here, in this place, that lands me in it as well.’

‘Did you guys see that?’ Jagger wailed, as he straightened up. A trickle of blood came from a cut on his eyebrow.

‘No,’ Pye told him, ‘and if he banjoes you again we won’t see that either. So tell us: what time was he here?’

‘The back of five,’ he confessed. ‘Like Drizzle said, he came in the back door, him and Anna. There wis a white motor parked ootside. He was scared, ken; they both were, but Dino was kackin’ himself. I asked him if it was right, that he’d kilt that lassie.’

‘What did he say?’ Haddock asked.

‘He said that she was alive when he put her in the motor, and that the boot was padded, wi’ an air hole in it. He said that he ran intae some guy in the Fort Kinnaird car park. The fella came for him, big bloke, hard lookin’, so he legged it.’

‘So why did he come here?’

‘For cash,’ Jagger said. ‘He told me that he’d gone back tae North Berwick, to get his old man’s car and pick up dough frae his flat, but that he bumped in tae polis. Wis that youse?’

Pye nodded. ‘Take us on from there.’

‘He told me he’d got away then caught the train tae Musselburgh. He’d taken his sister’s motor frae the uni, where it’s parked durin’ the day, and then picked up Singer.’

‘Why did he do that?’ the DCI asked. ‘Why did he involve her?’

‘Ah don’t now. Ah never asked him. Mibbe he didnae want tae leave her behind. He wis daft on her, man.’

‘Did you give him money?’

‘Aye. A kept a tenner for masel’, and gave him the rest o’ what Ah had on me, about thirty-five quid. Ah gave him ma bank card too. Ah told him he could have three hundred quid out of that and post it back to me. He said that if Ah wanted, I could take thae fish out ma granny’s freezer, deliver them tae the Chinese in Broxburn and keep the money. He gie’d me the address, ken.’

‘And you gave him and Anna venison burgers, for the road.’

‘Aye. An’ a box o’ crisps and a case o’ Vimto.’

‘Did he say where they were going?’

‘As far away as they fuckin’ could. But he said he had tae meet a bloke. The guy owed him more cash.’

‘But he came to you for money as well?’ Haddock exclaimed.

‘He said they were goin’ tae need all the dough he could raise. He said if they could, they were going tae get on a car ferry and head for Holland and then Poland.’

‘Did he have a passport?’

‘Ah dinnae ken.’ Jagger shrugged. ‘Like Ah said, he was crappin’ himsel’, no’ thinkin’ straight.’

‘And Singer, Anna, how was she?’

‘Like Ah said, she was feart too, but no’ as bad as Dino. She was under control.’ His eyes widened. ‘Aye, that’s right. Ah remember noo; she said she had her passport and that when they got tae the ferry, she was goin’ tae hide Jagger in the boot, just like he hid the kid. She reckoned that once they got tae Holland she’d be able tae use her credit card.’

‘You’re a couple of bastards, you and Dino,’ Drizzle growled. ‘Anna was a nice kid. What the hell she was doing with you bum holes I’ll never know.’

‘Ah, fuck you,’ Jagger sighed. He looked at Pye. ‘So what happens now?’ he asked. ‘Ah’ve told yis what Ah know.’

‘This is what’s going to happen,’ the DCI said, smiling. ‘This is the bit I like. Do the honours, Sauce.’

‘My pleasure, gaffer. Michael Smith, he began ‘I am detaining you under Section Fourteen of the Criminal Procedure, Scotland, Act, nineteen ninety-five, because I suspect you of having committed an offence punishable by imprisonment, namely giving assistance to a person or persons you knew to be fugitives to escape from the police.

‘The reasons for my suspicions,’ he continued, ‘are the facts that on your own admission, the suspects were here yesterday afternoon after you knew that one of them was wanted by the police in connection with a serious crime, and were given financial assistance by you.

‘You will be detained to enable further investigations to be carried out regarding the offence and as to whether or not you should be reported for prosecution. You will be taken to a police station where you will be informed of your further rights in respect of detention.’

The DS stopped, then added, ‘It’s a bit of a mouthful, but it means you’re lifted, Jagger. When you’re sitting in the remand wing in Saughton, I want you to think on this. If you’d done the right thing by the dead child and called us when Dino and Singer turned up here, they’d still be alive, and you wouldn’t be locked up. I hope you choke on your porridge, pal.’