Skinner's Mission

60

‘Sorry to bother you, sir, but I can’t raise DS Donaldson, and I felt I should pass this on for further instructions.’

‘That’s all right, Maggie,’ said Andy Martin, into the telephone. ‘What have you got?’

‘Two of my Detective Constables have just finished the check of Jackie Charles’ property company, the one that owns the flats. It looks as if we’ve got a problem with the theory that Charles might have used one of them to store any records relating to his illegal business.’

‘How come?’

‘Because all the flats are occupied, sir. By legitimate, bona fide tenants with no obvious connection to Charles. They’re all managed by a reputable agent, all the tenants have rent books and tax is paid on the net income.’

‘Ah well,’ sighed the Head of CID, ‘another chased hare goes to ground. I must admit I didn’t think that Jackie would leave himself as exposed as that again, not after those two earlier tip-offs that we had.’

‘That’s one point that did emerge from our search,’ said Rose. ‘The records showed that each of the flats we raided had been untenanted for a considerable period leading up to each raid, but that both were let immediately afterwards. That does sort of hint that the theory could have been right, up to that point; at least so far as to indicate that Charles did keep flats for his private use.’

‘Mmm. Could be. That is the only property company that Charles owns now, right?’

‘Yes. He used to have three, but he rolled them into a single company a year or so back. For tax reasons, I think.’

‘Okay, Maggie, thanks for letting me know. I’ll think it through to see if there’s anything else we can do to keep that line of enquiry alive. Meantime, you concentrate on Douglas Terry. Have you found the other two Willies yet?’

‘Macintosh is in London, we believe, sir, but we’ve arrested Easson. I haven’t interviewed him yet. He knows why he’s been picked up, but I’ve left him to sweat on it, until we get McCartney and Kirkbride back up here.’

‘Could he have been part of the team that snatched the Brummies, d’you think?’

There were a few moments of silence on the line. ‘I don’t know, sir, but the people who lifted him said he seemed scared shitless. Maybe that was why.’

Martin smiled grimly to himself. ‘Time will tell, Mags. Time and maybe Willie Easson himself.’

He paused. ‘Listen, are you using young Pye for anything just now?’

‘No. Why?’

‘Send him up here, then. I’m going to see a man, and I need company. You’ve heard the story we were told by Quinn, the taxi driver, about picking up a hire in Seafield Road, a bloke who said that his car had broken down.’

‘I heard that, yes.’

‘Well, McIlhenney’s come up with a name through the AA. Dominic Ahern, 32 Mountcastle Gardens. I’ve decided to see him myself, so have Sammy here inside half an hour, as my back-up.’

‘Very good, sir.’

Martin replaced the telephone and stared out of the window. The skies were even more ominous than before, heavy and with the purple tinge of snow clouds as they moved steadily eastwards. Outside a few flakes fluttered to the ground.

Suddenly Martin sat bolt upright and picked up the telephone, dialling an internal number. ‘Pamela?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘The Boss isn’t back yet, is he?’

‘No. I don’t expect him for a while yet.’

‘Good, because I’d like to commandeer you for a while. There’s a search I want made, in a fair old hurry. I know that Mr Skinner will approve, so if you come along here, I’ll brief you. When he gets back I’ll let him in on the secret.’