Private Investigations

Thirty-Six

‘There are seven holiday cottages dotted around Glencorse Reservoir and the Loganlea Reservoir beyond,’ Jackie Wright reported, before Sauce Haddock had closed the door of the CID room behind him. ‘I’ve located and spoken to all the owners,’ she continued. ‘There are four of them in total. Your guess . . .’

‘Guess?’ Haddock exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

The DC grinned. ‘Sorry. Your intuitive speculation was spot on. At this time of year they usually lie empty, but one of them was rented for three weeks, beginning last Saturday.’

‘By whom?’ Pye asked.

‘That’s as far as your luck goes, for the tenant was a young woman; she paid the full rent in advance plus deposit, in cash, to the owner’s agent, a property firm in Walker Street. The description their guy gave me was a dead ringer for Anna Harmony, so I emailed him her photo. He confirmed it.’

‘Bugger,’ the DCI grunted. ‘A door opens, then some bastard slams it in your face again.’

‘So now,’ the DS said, ‘can we, please, go and tackle this Mackail man?’

‘Hold your horses, Sauce. You keep going on about him, but I still want to follow up on Sullivan. He had a link with Dino through the nephew, that was established, but for him to have known Anna as well . . .’

‘Come on,’ Haddock countered, ‘if you’re suggesting that Sullivan set up the job, even though he had no apparent reason, would he let Dino use his own car to do it?’

‘If he planned to kill them afterwards, why not?’ Pye smiled, then turned to another detective constable, the quiet man of the team, who was seated at the next desk to Wright. ‘Have you had any joy with that check I asked for this morning, William?’

‘Yes, sir,’ the thin, lugubrious DC Dickson replied. ‘Three weeks ago, Callum Sullivan withdrew twelve thousand pounds from his personal account, in cash. The money was in used notes, at his request.’

‘What a surprise,’ the DCI laughed. ‘And where does he bank?’

‘He uses the Clydesdale in Lothian Road; he does all his personal banking there.’

Pye, smiling in triumph, looked at Haddock as if he were peering over imaginary spectacles. ‘Well?’ he asked.

The DS glowered back at his boss. ‘Nobody loves a smartarse,’ he muttered. ‘Back to North Berwick?’

‘No, we’ve been there enough in the last couple of days. Jackie, I’d like you to call Mr Callum Sullivan and tell him we’d like his help with a couple of aspects of the inquiry, and we’d be grateful if he’d join us here at Fettes tomorrow morning.

‘William, while we’re talking to Mr Sullivan, I want to know everything there is to know about the man that we didn’t find out in the check we ran a couple of days ago: business life, private life, secret life, everything. Start now and don’t stop till you’ve answered all the questions.’