Текст книги "A Taste of Ashes"

Автор книги: Tony Black

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

31

The sight of Chief Superintendent Marion Martin in the incident room was a bad enough shock to Valentine but at such an early hour he didn’t need to be a detective to know something was seriously wrong. She seemed to be going over the case files, at least, that’s how it looked to him as he walked, slowly and silently, towards the desk where she was sitting. She never looked up once but seemed to sense his arrival at her side, greeting him with a brusque order to grab a seat.

‘I’m not stopping,’ said Valentine.

The chief super looked up. ‘You sound fairly confident of that, Bob. If I were standing in your boots, I’m not sure I’d be so cocksure.’

He peered beyond her towards the desk, she was indeed going over the case files – his own annotated file from inside his desk. Had she searched his office?

‘If you’re unhappy with the way the case is being conducted then perhaps you might want to let me get on with it so that I can contribute to your clean-up rate.’

She slammed the folder shut, tapped red fingernails on the top and eyed the detective through heavy lids. ‘You’re not the only DI in King Street.’ She rose. ‘I could replace you, like that …’ Her fingers snapped in Valentine’s face.

‘Is this a conversation I should be having with the union rep present, chief?’

‘You could bring along the Prime Minister, Bob, it won’t make a blind bit of difference to what I have to say.’ The castors on her chair squealed as she stepped back from the desk, the chair skidded into the centre of the floor. ‘I’ll see you in my office in ten minutes. Bring any and every scrap of progress you’ve made because I’ll need to be convinced you are the most capable officer to handle this case.’

He knew she was testing him, asserting her rank. He knew, also, that he was about to pay for having challenged her authority too many times lately. The meeting with Major Rutherford, likely, being the offence which caused the most damage. The absurdity of the situation was annoying enough, but the pettiness bit even deeper.

‘I do have other things to do,’ he said.

‘No, Bob. You have nothing else to do, other than what I tell you.’ She crossed her arms, leaned in, ‘And you can call this a wee heads-up – you might want to explain away why I have a complaint on my desk from Ayr Hospital to add to the one from the hospital in Kilmarnock. And while you’re at it, just when were you going to tell me about this?’ She reached into the file and retrieved the post-mortem report on James Tulloch. ‘I found an extra page in your file that wasn’t in mine and it says Tulloch’s spinal column was cut, how did they put it? The wound track, back to front was administered on a horizontal thrust … That’s pretty cleanly and coldly, like he was sitting on the bloody butcher’s block.’

‘I had every intention of …’

She raised a hand. ‘Save it, Bob. My office in ten minutes.’

DS McCormack was the first of the team to arrive after Valentine, almost bumping into the chief super as they met at the doorway. The DS made for the glassed-off office at the back of the incident room where Valentine had stationed himself. He spotted her on the way in, waved her away, but she took no notice.

‘Who stole your toffee?’ were the first words out of her mouth.

‘Is that Glasgow? This isn’t the Francie and Josie Show, you know.’

‘Sometimes I think the only folk in this country who like Glasgow are the Glaswegians.’

‘You could substitute country for planet and not be far wrong.’

McCormack closed the door behind her. ‘Well somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed.’

‘I’m sorry. Had a rough night. Then Dino was in here early doors and it wasn’t to sing me “That’s Amore”.’

‘Erm, I’ll start with the rough night, I think …’

Valentine pushed out his hands, inflated his chest and began a slow exhalation. He started to talk about the picture that Hugh Crosbie had drawn and then he found himself relaying his father’s explanation of how he knew Bert McCrindle and how strange it all seemed to him, but by the time he got to the bit about his dream, and the visit from Bert, strange didn’t seem like a strong enough description. The DI’s head was heavy, bulging with new thoughts, questions, what-ifs.

‘Did you tell Clare?’ said McCormack.

‘How could I not? She was right next to me, got the brunt of my ranting and raving again … anyway, I don’t want to talk about Clare just now.’

‘OK. Do you want to talk about the chief super?’

‘God no. That’s not a choice I have though, the way she feels about me you might be the lead detective on this case soon.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ll be lucky to get a job cleaning up after the mounted police outside Ibrox if she chooses to let rip.’

‘I take it she found out about the post-mortem report on Tulloch.’

‘Bingo.’ Valentine leaned back in his chair, turned his arms behind his neck. ‘There’s more too, but I won’t bother you with it right now. Tell me about Phil and Ally’s trip to the far east.’

‘Oh, interesting, to say the least. They spoke to the top brass there, but got zilch. Pleasantries, the good biccies brought out but nothing to write home about.’

‘Well, I wasn’t expecting a smoking gun, Sylvia. Tell me they dug a little deeper.’

‘Yes, of course, there’s more.’ She approached the desk, a note of optimism rising in her voice. ‘They spoke to some squaddies, they knew Tulloch and didn’t sound too fussed to hear he’d died. They were a bit more concerned about Darren Millar’s disappearance, that’s really put the cat amongst the pigeons at the barracks.’

‘Darren was much more popular, then?’

‘For sure. But get this, there’s more. His best friend in the regiment was a bloke called Finnie, who came from, guess where? Ayr.’

‘Why do I know that name?’ said Valentine.

‘Probably because you’ve seen it on Flash Harris’s case files – Finnie worked at the Meat Hangers with Tulloch and they were both in the Royal Highland Fusiliers together.’

‘Jesus, tell me you’ve pulled this Finnie in.’

McCormack shook her head. ‘No, sir. He’s top of Harris’s list at the moment too. Apparently Finnie’s not been seen since the night of the robbery.’

‘And the night of the murder too, don’t forget that, Sylvia.’ Valentine picked up a pencil and started to roll it between his fingers. ‘Has Harris pulled in Norrie Leask yet?’

‘No. That’s the not-so-good news: Leask’s missing.’

‘What do you mean missing?’

‘Nowhere to be found, sir. Not at his address or known haunts, and no one has seen hide nor hair of him.’

‘Well that’s bloody convenient.’ Valentine thrust the pencil down on the desk. ‘Just what the hell is going on here? I’ve got a murdered ex-squaddie, a missing ex-squaddie – make that two of them missing including this Finnie character – and now Ayr’s answer to Arthur Daley and Terry McCann rolled into one has done a bunk.’

McCormack squinted. ‘I think it’s still progress.’

Valentine wasn’t so sure, he checked his watch, his ten minutes were up and he had to go and see the chief super. ‘Where’s Phil and Ally got to? They should be here by now.’

‘They’re still on the east coast, sir.’

‘You’re joking?’

‘They stopped overnight, apparently they’ve got a lead to follow up today.’

Valentine stood up, stepped away from his desk. ‘So on top of everything we’re two men down today.’

‘It could be worse,’ said McCormack.

‘How, just how could it be worse, Sylvia?’

‘We could be three men down.’

‘Just hold that very thought.’ Valentine headed for the door.

32

As he stood in front of the vending machine waiting for his coffee cup to fill, Valentine told himself that he’d had a long career, and it wasn’t without merit. There had been the predictable lows too, and the encounter with CS Martin that awaited him was definitely going to be another of those, but he had a lot to be proud of.

When he’d taken a knife in the heart, and been declared dead, that would have been a good enough reason for many to leave the force but he stayed on. He knew that financially, he really had no option though. And now that they’d moved to a bigger house, and moved his father in with them, those restraints had only tightened. The girls’ demands were growing more costly every year and there’d be university to consider soon. Clare’s spending might have been curtailed for now but that was a result of their huge splurge of late, she would be back to her old ways as soon as the sheen of a new house wore thin. A dull ache started deep inside his chest, somewhere in his damaged heart.

The DI picked up the cup, watched the slow trail of steam rising; the sharp aroma signalled the coming bitter assault on his tastebuds. He wouldn’t miss the King Street coffee, that was for certain. He turned towards the long corridor and made his way to the chief super’s office. He took a sip, it was hot, burning, and he jerked the cup away too quickly: a sliver of grey liquid landed on his white shirt front.

‘Shit.’ She’d notice that, right away. Dino was always pointing out the minor flaws that everyone else ignored, she presented them like evidence she was gathering to back up her own superiority.

Valentine rubbed at the coffee stain with his cuff, spreading the mark to a wider surface and transplanting some of it to the pristine cuff.

‘What’s the point?’

He knocked on the door and stepped back.

Silence. Maybe she’d gone out. He wished.

‘Come …’ Why did she always say that? It was like some ridiculous parody of a company boss from a seventies sit-com. As he opened the door he found he was grinning to himself.

‘Should I deduct from your demeanour that you’ve had a break, Bob?’ said Martin.

‘I always caution the team against wild deductions, chief.’ It was a bad start, and he knew it.

‘Sit down, Bob.’

She closed the desk diary she’d been studying, sat back and pointed her elbows to the floor. There was a pause that lasted for a few seconds and then she snatched a deep breath and started to speak. ‘It’s hard to know where to begin with you.’

Valentine stayed calm, ignored the fact that he already felt like a child visiting the headmaster.

‘I mean, it’s as if you’re trying to provoke me with all these nonsensical actions.’ She paused again, seemed to be waiting for the DI’s response, when she saw that none was on the way she raised her voice. ‘Do you know who my first call was from this morning?’

‘I don’t.’

‘William Reynolds, I’m sure the name doesn’t ring a bell, but when I tell you he’s the boss of a Dr Caruthers that you’ve been upsetting at Ayr Hospital then you might get the gist.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘Yes, Bob. Reynolds is chief executive of the local health board, not someone we want to fall out with given how often we’re in and out of their facilities.’

Valentine played with the crease in his trousers. ‘Look, does this Reynolds bloke know that Sandra Millar is a murder suspect?’

‘I don’t care if he does or not, Bob. I don’t want you upsetting him, or Dr Caruthers, or Major Rutherford, or the tea lady in the canteen at Killie Hospital, these are people we have to work with, our community, remember that.’

When she’d stopped shouting her voice reverberated in Valentine’s ears. ‘Do you understand me, Bob?’

‘Yes, I understand.’ He pushed away the crease in his trousers, brushed at his thighs as he tried to provide a defence. ‘It’s not been the easiest of cases …’

‘Now, I’ll stop you right there. None of the cases you handle are easy, Bob. You’re a murder squad detective, that in itself should give you a clue as to what to expect in your in-box.’

‘I’m well aware what it is I do. If I can be allowed to finish …’ He glanced at the chief super, she tightened her mouth. ‘This case, chief, is not your classic hot-blooded murder. It might look that way, but every time we take a step forward we’re yanked three steps back. It’s not straightforward, not a matter of joining all the dots in the constellated disadvantage, there’s more to this, much more.’

‘Bob, I’ve had two hospitals complain about you since Tulloch was stabbed, I’ve had to hose down the bloody army because of your attitude and to top it all, no, to put the cherry on the top of this steaming pile of shit that you are calling a murder investigation – and I’ve been through your files so I know what I’m talking about – I find out you’ve been withholding evidence from me.’

Valentine uncrossed his legs, as he leaned towards Dino’s desk, the temptation to scream back at her was only halted by his ramping heart rate and the warnings of his medics about stress. He eased himself back in his chair and drew breath.

‘The post-mortem report was an oversight on my part.’

‘What was that?’

‘I’d like to apologise, there’s no excuse for not passing that on immediately. I should have done, and I didn’t.’

The admission blindsided the chief super. She clearly didn’t believe she was hearing it. ‘Are you trying to cover for someone on the squad – Ally forget to deliver it to me, did he?’

‘No. It was my fault.’

‘Well it wasn’t Phil, he’s too bloody anal about admin. Was it that Glasgow girl, Sylvia?’

‘I just told you. I take full responsibility, it was an oversight.’

‘And you’re not even going to play the old overloaded-with-work tune?’

The DI stalled, he hadn’t expected her to react in this manner. He’d made a serious error, she had every right to question his judgement, suspend him or worse. But now it seemed like she suspected him of reverse psychology, a double bluff that she refused to fall for, only the truth was much simpler.

They stared at each other over the desk, dredging each other’s gaze for a solution to the impasse. The silence was broken by the telephone sounding like a bell between rounds.

‘Hello, CS Martin.’

It felt like an intrusion to listen to the call, Valentine got up and paced around the room. The conversational tone of the call had quickly changed, concern crept into the chief super’s voice. She crouched over her desk now, slouched into the receiver like it was her only means of support.

‘What … Say that again … When?’

CS Martin didn’t move, her shoulders appeared locked in a downward-facing angle to the desk, where her free hand was a tense fist.

Valentine became aware of the rapid change in the room’s atmosphere. He returned to his seat and tried to look innocent whilst discerning what the talk was about.

‘Wait, are you telling me this is related?’ she said.

‘Shall I go?’ said Valentine.

She flagged him down. ‘And when did this call come in? Have you spoken to the parents? Have they spoken to the press?’

He wanted to know what had happened.

‘Right. Keep it that way. I’ll meet you there right away.’ The receiver was returned to its cradle.

‘Sounds serious,’ said Valentine.

‘Your get-out-of-jail-free card.’

‘I don’t follow you.’

She stuck her jaw towards him. ‘Well, I’m not talking about the divi commander’s team-building exercise, though God alone knows what I will tell him about that … Look, if you ever conceal evidence from me again, Bob, or even think about bullshitting me, I’ll have your arse in a sling.’

‘Point taken. Can I ask about the call?’

‘We have another one.’ She eased herself away from behind the desk, stood up and walked towards the coat stand in the corner of the room.

‘Another murder?’ It didn’t seem possible, the case was beyond complex already.

‘That’s right. And it’s yours.’

‘So it’s related to the Tulloch murder?’

‘Clever lad.’ She started to fasten the buttons of her navy-blue fitted coat. ‘At least that’s the assumption I’m making right now given we have a body matching the description of a missing person that was reported last night by the parents of Jade Millar’s boyfriend.’

Valentine followed as the chief super made for the door. ‘Niall Paton was reported missing?’

‘That’s right. Parents rocked in last night and spilled their hearts to Jim on the front desk. We also had some calls on unusual activity out at the old pits, sounded like fly-tipping but Jim put two and two together and we’ve had uniform out since first light.’

‘Why didn’t someone inform me?’

‘Oh I was informed, Bob.’ She grinned at him, but it was really for herself. ‘It’s a right pain in the arse when your colleagues keep stuff from you, isn’t it?’ She stepped through the door, left it swinging open for Valentine to follow.

‘Two wrongs don’t make a right,’ he yelled.

‘No, Bob, they don’t.’ She stopped at the top of the stairs, turned. ‘And don’t think I’d be so petty, as you’re very fond of saying this is a murder investigation and one I was about to remove from you until it became a double murder investigation. Count yourself lucky you’re still on the job and don’t expect to get any more leeway from me now.’

33

DI Bob Valentine’s arrival in Cumnock was like any other visit to his former hometown: uneasy. There had been a time when coming home was a welcome event, he’d visit his parents and visit his past, but those days were gone. There was nothing for him in Cumnock now. If he was being honest, and dispassionate, he would have said there was nothing in Cumnock at all now. There had been work, once. Mines with a hundred years of coal that Thatcher shut up and flooded lest anyone try to reverse her decision. His father had mined those pits.

There were the streets lined with black spit, the talk of the Friday-night pint that generally ended on a Sunday, and throughout it all, the hard-worn Cumnock women who always kept a clean front step scrubbed twice a day. The town had changed now, and the changeover had been brief. The town had gone from his home to a place not fit for animals in a few short years. The idea that dole moles and junkies might ever care about their front step amused him now.

‘Something funny?’ said the chief super.

‘The old toon …’

‘You grew up here didn’t you, father a miner?’

‘Yes, on both counts.’ They stood on the edge of the field where uniformed officers were busying themselves with blue and white tape, not quite sure whether it was appropriate to tie-up bramble bushes. ‘Place is a mystery to me now, though.’

‘It’s bloody Cumnock, the place is a mystery to everyone. Need your head tested to stay here now.’

‘Or have no choice.’ Valentine turned to face CS Martin, ‘That’s the thing though, we had no choice when I was growing up, but people cared then. People made the most of the place.’

A tut. ‘I can’t see this lot bothering their backside. We’re too far gone now, Bob. Places like this were written off years ago. You’re well and truly out of it … Come on, our stiff awaits.’

Valentine watched and waited as the chief super negotiated a dry-stone dyke. She made noisy objections each time the stones wobbled under her hands and her coat tails rode up in comical fashion as she descended the dyke. She was still cursing when she reached the field, the grass brushing the hem of her coat and forming a wet tide line. It was a bizarre scene for the detective, so out of place, so strange to see his boss wading through a field by the town where he’d once watched his father set off for the pit with a lunch pail under his arm. He felt like he had lived two lives, that they should never have crossed, but here he was watching his present attaching to his past. If there was a message to be discerned, it escaped him; but the eerie feeling that he should be drawing some kind of meaning from the event turned inside him.

‘We should have brought wellies,’ CS Martin roared over the wet grass.

‘Wait till you get further in, you’ll be calling for waders.’

‘That better be a joke.’

‘No joke. You’ll need bloody scuba gear if you fall down one of the shafts.’

The chief super halted her stride, turned to one of the uniformed bodies. ‘How far do we have to go?’

‘Just a little bit further.’ The uniform pointed. ‘Over there, where the tracks end.’

Valentine caught up with them. ‘Tell me they’re our tracks and we’re not parading half the force through our crime scene.’

The uniform shrugged, looked blankly ahead. It seemed too complicated a question for him to understand, never mind answer.

‘Christ, I knew it. We’re up to our knees in it, stamping all over potential evidence.’

‘Relax, Bob. I’m sure if there’s any footprints in this muck we’ve already got them cast.’

The DI peered up to the sky, but didn’t offer a reply; he’d trust his insights into the way uniform worked over the chief super’s any day of the week. As he looked at the churned mess of the ground he knew if there had been anything of use there it was now gone. The fresh path cut through two fringes of flattened long grass that stretched all the way from the drystone dyke. Up ahead the SOCOs in white suits were shuffling about, the unearthly starkness of their appearance always made Valentine aware of the close proximity of death. The dream, or whatever it was, where he had met Bert returned to him. The message had been to look for a soldier but he knew that wasn’t what he was going to find here.

As they reached the main area of activity, Valentine was handed a box of rubber gloves, he took a pair and passed them to CS Martin.

‘No thanks,’ she said. ‘I’m prepared to observe but I draw the line at poking about in fusty remains.’

‘Whatever you say.’ Valentine snapped a glove onto his wrist. ‘You might want the blue slippers, though, keep your shoes clean.’

‘Is that supposed to be a sexist remark?’

‘If it is I’m not aware of it.’

‘Women and shoes, y’know …’

Valentine knew all about women and shoes, his wife had a theory that it was something she fixated on herself because it was the only part of her body that hadn’t grown. The DI eyed Martin but kept the observation to himself and approached the depute fiscal.

‘Hello, Col,’ he said.

‘Ah, detective. Hello to you too.’

The prat knew it was detective inspector and Valentine knew that he knew it but let it slide. Colin Scott fed on irritating people, the worst move was always to show they’d got to you. ‘I take it you’re done here?’

‘All yours, you can … do as thou wilt.’

‘That … shall be the whole of the law.’ Valentine’s retort put the fiscal on guard, police – even detective inspectors – weren’t supposed to be educated enough to finish his obscure quotations.

‘Christ, get a room you pair.’ Martin marched between them, approached the huddle of SOCOs.

It was a patchy piece of ground, bare mostly. The grass halted about four feet away and a muddy expanse, like a dam, had pooled brown water on one side. There was clearly a source for the water somewhere but Valentine couldn’t spot it. As he moved closer to the group of uniforms and SOCOs he surmised that a flooded pit was the cause; and then he caught a glimpse of a grey-white face that was no longer human.

The young man had deep hollows where his eyes should be and a gape of mouth that had been shaped into an unnatural droop. Valentine saw the jaw was broken, it was too wide to be a natural opening. The victim lay on his back, a bony chest exposed to the elements showed bruising, deep-coloured contusions and lighter, yellowing finger marks. He’d been beaten. Blood pooled beneath the nose, around the eyes and to the sides of the black gaping mouth. He was young, that was clear, but not the youngest corpse the detective had seen.

‘Just a boy, isn’t he?’ said Valentine.

‘Just a lad of sixteen summers,’ said Martin.

‘We’ve provisionally ID’d him then?’

‘Yes.’ She pushed past the DI, moved closer to the pale body. ‘I should have said, shouldn’t I? Must be annoying that, being kept in the dark.’

He didn’t respond, it seemed to be a day for holding back.

‘It’s Niall Paton, the details match our description from the parents.’ Martin crouched down. ‘He’ll need a good clean-up before we do a formal ID. He’s been battered black and blue, obviously pissed somebody off.’

He squatted down beside the chief super. ‘Or had something somebody wanted.’

‘He’s sixteen, though, what could he have had that anyone wanted, an Xbox?’

‘Information, maybe. Like the whereabouts of Jade Millar, or her brother, or her brother’s old army buddy.’

Martin got up, she was still looking over the body as she spoke. ‘Careful, Bob, you’ll be making it sound like somebody on your squad knocked him off.’

It was a low blow. ‘We’re keen to find them all, but so are one or two others.’

‘Like who?’

Valentine rose. ‘Well I had an interesting chat with Eddy Harris recently, it appears one of the Meat Hangers staff has gone missing since the robbery. I’d think Norrie Leask would be very keen to find him.’

‘Well why don’t you ask him?’

‘I would, but Leask’s gone missing too.’

The chief super removed a packet of Regal from her coat pocket and lit up. ‘Who is this that works for Leask?’

‘A bloke called Finnie, used to be in the army with Darry Millar and, it turns out, Tulloch.’

‘They were all in Tom Rutherford’s regiment?’

‘That’s right. Makes you wonder what Major Tom’s hiding, does it not?’

She drew deeply on the cigarette, exhaled a long stream of smoke. ‘That’s all I bloody need, a military police investigation on my patch.’

‘None of the victims are military, I think that rules them out.’

‘Oh, not necessarily, Bob. If there’s a military angle they have the strangest way of making it their business. And that could leave us with two unsolved murders on our books, or worse, two collars taken off our crime stats, which we can ill afford.’

Valentine let the chief super talk herself out, she was extracting a final gasp from her cigarette when he spoke again. ‘Have the boy’s parents been informed?’

‘Oh, shit. No, they only told us he was missing last night.’

‘It’s going to be a bloody shock for them, after they’ve only reported him missing. Do you want me to let them know?’

‘Yes, Bob, you do that.’ She held up the cigarette, got ready to flick it onto the ground; Valentine reached over and snatched the filter tip from her fingers.

‘I’ll put that out.’

‘Great. Cheers. You want to drive back too?’

The DI nodded. ‘Why not?’

In the car CS Martin spoke in a near-whisper. ‘You don’t think the robbery and the murders are connected do you?’

‘I think the robbery and the murders and the army are all connected in some way, my only problem is that I’ve got no idea how.’

‘This is a mess.’ She grabbed a handful of hair and leaned on the window. ‘I don’t want you to antagonise the military. If you have to ask questions, do it on the quiet, or do it through my office.’

‘And what about the Meat Hangers?’

‘Tie in with DI Harris, if there’s a likely connection, you can take his team into your squad. The way things are shaping up, you’re going to need the extra numbers.’