Screen Savers

Chapter 18

For a while, it looked as if the police might have to impound Miles’ film, but eventually they settled for a print.

The team who turned up was led by a Detective Superintendent: Miles Grayson is an important man, after all, and he was spending a lot of money in the Grampian force’s area.

The head man — his name was Alex Francey — interviewed Noosh and me himself, back at the Treetops, in the bar where we had met the night before. His sergeant and two detective constables were left in Union Street, taking statements from the few extras who had seen anything.

We sat at a low round table, with coffee and biscuits which, considerately, I had put on Miles’ tab. ‘When did you first become aware of the man on the motorcycle, Miss Turkel?’ he asked.

‘That is Ms,’ she corrected him, stiffly. She was back to her normal ice-maiden self; she had left her fear behind in the city. ‘I wasn’t aware of him at all, not until almost he ran into us, after Oz had knocked me to the ground.’ She threw me a quick glare, making a show of flicking dust and road debris from her long skirt.

‘Then all I saw was the back of his bike, from ground level.’

‘Did you get his registration number?’

‘I wasn’t exactly thinking about that at the time, having just been rugby-tackled by a large man.’

Detective Superintendent Francey grinned. ‘So the day hasn’t been all bad,’ he said. I winced as he spoke, hoping that he would see my face and know that he was on dodgy ground.

Noosh chilled him, froze him solid, with just a stare. For a moment, they looked like two Batman villains: she Ms Freeze, he Jack Nicholson’s Joker, with his smile painted on his face.

‘Right,’ he went on quickly. ‘Can I ask you to think back now? Just try to picture the scene again, and tell me everything that happened.’

Noosh loosened up, just a bit. ‘I was simply walking along on the outside of the pavement,’ she replied, ‘as I’d been told to do by Mr Grayson. Then I saw Oz running. I was surprised, but I remember thinking that this must be a part of the movie they hadn’t told me about. When I realised that he was coming at me, I didn’t have time to do anything about it.’

She paused, her eyes closed for a few seconds as if she was picturing the scene inside her head. ‘He reached me, and pulled me to the ground. As I fell, there was a bang. Yes I remember that now. Then the noise of tyres on the road, and of the bike speeding up once more.

‘I looked up at the man. I saw his back as he drove off, and his shiny crash helmet. But I don’t remember his number plate.’

‘He didn’t have one,’ I said. ‘I remember that now. I saw him from the front and the rear; the bike didn’t have a number plate. I’m sure of that.’

‘Okay, but you got a good look at the man?’

‘Sure, dressed from head to foot in black leather, with a damn great black-visored, crimson thing covering his head.’ I frowned at the detective. ‘It could have been you, for all I could tell.’

‘Did you actually see the gun being fired?’ Francey asked.

‘Yes, definitely. Flash, bang; that’s how it goes, isn’t it?’

‘Are you sure it was being fired at Ms Turkel?’

It was my turn to run a play-back in my head. ‘Yes, I’m certain,’ I told him, once the sequence was over. ‘He accelerated from way back up the street. My attention was attracted at first by the noise he was making. We were recording wild sound, and I thought it might screw up the take. Then I saw him ease down his speed, line himself up behind Noosh, and pull the gun from his leathers.’

‘Can you describe the firearm?’

‘Small and black. It looked like an automatic. Mind you, I’ve only seen two real, unholstered pistols in my life, so I’m no expert.’

‘What about the bike? What make was it?’

I shrugged. ‘Two wheels, handlebars, painted mainly yellow: that’s it, I’m afraid.’

‘It was a Kawasaki,’ Noosh blurted out, looking at me, rather than at the detective. ‘I know about motorcycles, remember.’ I did. For a while, when she and Jan lived together, Noosh owned a Honda.

Francey coughed. ‘What about the man, Ms Turkel? Have you any idea about him? You said you’re a lawyer,’ he added helpfully. ‘Have you got any disgruntled criminal clients who might be bearing a grudge?’

She shook her head, sending her sleek hair swinging. ‘I’m a corporate lawyer, officer. I don’t do criminal work.’

‘Well, how about your private life? Is there an ex-boyfriend who might want to hurt you?’

‘I don’t have ex-boyfriends,’ she said, abruptly. ‘I have ex-girlfriends, but none of them ride motorcycles.’

‘Well maybe one of them has a boyfriend who does?’ the Superintendent suggested, with a touch of desperation.

‘Only one of my ex-girlfriends has ever had a boyfriend,’ Noosh retorted. ‘And he is not a biker; not at all.’

‘Still, if you could give me his name. .’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘You don’t have that choice.’ Francey shifted in his chair, as if he was flexing his shoulders. ‘You may not be not a criminal lawyer, but I don’t have to tell you about the penalties for withholding information.’

‘That’s right, you don’t, because there are none. I’m not obstructing your investigation and I’m not under oath.’

‘The Fiscal might not share your view about obstruction, and the Law Society might disagree with you too. I can make a lot of trouble for you, Miss Turkel.’

I didn’t want to go any further down this road, but I couldn’t let this go on. ‘I’m the man she’s talking about, Superintendent, ’ I said, a wee bit more aggressively than I’d intended. ‘Noosh and my late wife lived together for a while. They parted on good terms and neither Jan nor I ever held any grudges. You’ll need to find another line of inquiry, I’m afraid.’

He gave me a policeman’s look; it came right over the top of his nose, boring into me. ‘Any ideas, then?’ he asked, dryly.

‘Only one,’ Noosh intervened. ‘I spent some time in my firm’s St Petersburg office. While I was there I had a client who turned out to be Mafia, so we ceased to represent his company. He was unhappy; threats were made, so my firm decided it was time for me to come back to Scotland. But as we all know, such people can have long arms.

‘That is the only help I can give you. Now, what are you going to do for me?’

‘What do you mean?’ Francey looked puzzled.

‘I mean,’ Noosh chilled him again, ‘are you going to give me police protection?’

He recovered his composure, just a little too late to be convincing. ‘Of course, ma’am. I’ll see to it right away.’ Seizing the excuse, he hurried out of the room.