“I must’ve released him for a second, because, in a flash he’d reached for a bottle from one of the tables and started waving it in ma’ face.”
Fergus thought this sounded like a clear case of self-defence on the part of Dave Regis. He was fairly sure the jury would think so too.
“But I dropped the cue then, I swear on ma’ da’s grave.”
“That doesn’t really make sense, Billy. You were angry, the man who ruined your shot was brandishing a bottle, and yet you dropped the only thing you had to defend yourself?”
Billy’s face reddened. “Maybe I decided I wanted to calm things down a bit.”
“But you resorted to your fists instead? The situation was hardly calm when you hit Dave Regis so hard in the face that he suffered a cerebral haemorrhage that he never regained consciousness from.”
Billy started jiggling his leg up and down. “You’re supposed to be on my side! Why are you questioning me!”
Fergus kept his tone measured. “Because the prosecution is going to subject you to much worse. If you don’t tell me the whole truth, I can’t put your case effectively in court.”
“I’ve told you.” Billy’s teeth were gritted. “I released ma’ grip and Dave reached for the bottle. I feared for ma’ life. I lashed out in self-defence.”
Fergus sighed heavily, closing his file.
Billy’s eyes flashed. “And if that bar-fly McAllister says I hit the lad with the cue, then you tell the jury he’s just a lyin’, bastard drunk.”
*
Alice had returned to the conference centre for the final afternoon of lectures and now she was exhausted. When Fergus entered the flat that evening he found his girlfriend curled up on the sofa.
He perched on the space left by the ever-growing baby bump. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, just tired. My back’s been better today. I really wanted to hear the final summary from the Cold Cases team leader, so I dragged myself in.”
“I’m glad your day was productive.” Fergus shrugged out of his jacket and laid it across an armchair.
“You make it sound like yours wasn’t?” Alice shifted up.
Fergus was shaking his head of thick, wavy hair, as he had been for most of the day since leaving the interview with his client. “I think Edmunds will probably be found guilty of murder. This afternoon, the prosecution’s witness described how he gleefully battered the victim in the face with the thick end of a billiard cue.”
Alice winced.
“Of course, the witness was easy to discredit. He’s an alcoholic with advanced stage cirrhosis of the liver. But I believe that’s why he had the courage to testify. He’s at death’s door anyway. I suspect Edmunds and his thuggish mates have intimidated everyone else who was in the bar that day into silence.”
“I hope the jury took the testimony seriously – no offence.”
Fergus smiled sadly. “None taken. I do too. This isn’t the kind of case I like to defend.” He sighed. “When I got out of court, I spent the remainder of the day looking into the reason why Edmunds received that banning order from Hibernian FC in 2015.”
“The clubs don’t hand them out easily. He must have a repeat history of violence and/or vandalism. They usually need clear CCTV footage of the perpetrator to prevent appeals further down the line.”
“Oh, Billy’s a repeat offender all right. I got sick of seeing his face showing up at the centre of brawls with visiting teams, throwing punches as well as bottles and burger boxes. I’m amazed he wasn’t prosecuted before now.”
“It’s quite difficult to press charges. There are usually guilty parties on both sides in these clashes. Although, these incidents are on the rise again. Just when we believed the bad old days of Scottish football hooliganism were long gone.”
“I wonder what’s brought it back? In the eighties it was a national embarrassment.”
“They organise themselves now through social media. It makes it easier to find like-minded thugs. But the stadiums are better designed and policed than they were. Most of the bad behaviour takes place well away from the pitch. But I’ll be intrigued to see what happens at the World Cup this summer, what with all the tensions that exist between the competing nations.”
“It makes you wonder why the teams bother.” Fergus wasn’t much of a sports fan himself.
Alice’s father had followed the fortunes of Motherwell over the years, he was a gentle, intelligent man. “Because it isn’t really to do with the football. These thugs are just looking for an excuse to beat people up and go on the rampage. The sport simply gives them a group identity to hide behind.”
“Well, if Edmunds does manage to swing a manslaughter verdict, I’m going to pass on all that footage I watched today to the Fiscal’s office. It was nasty stuff. They may still manage to get a GBH charge to stick for his other crimes.”
Chapter 9
2003
The drive had taken DC Stevens about three hours. When he pulled up outside the impressive stone house just outside Dalry, he was feeling tired.
The murder of Richard McGill had occurred a week ago and Ravi suspected that none of the team had managed a full night of sleep since. He lifted a file from the passenger seat and approached the front door. A tall man in his sixties opened-up.
“Mr Kilpatrick? I’m DC Stevens from Cleland CID. I’ve come for another word with your daughter if that’s convenient?”
The man stood to one side. “Holly is sleeping upstairs at the moment. But I will get Jennifer to wake her. She’s been too long in her bed as it is.”
“Thank you, Mr Kilpatrick, I’d appreciate that.” Ravi was shown into a large, formal living room.
“Please, call me Ted. I’ll get the kettle on for us, once we’ve got Holly presentable.”
Ravi slipped out of his rain jacket and settled into one of the armchairs. A white cat appeared from under its floral fringing, wrapping itself sensuously around his ankle. He didn’t have the heart to flick it off.
It seemed like an age before Holly entered the room. She was on the arm of her mother, who deposited the young woman carefully onto the sofa, as if she were an invalid.
“I’ll leave you two to chat. Ted will bring the tea.”
Holly McGill was dressed in jeans and a cashmere sweater. Around her shoulders was draped a long tartan shawl, although the temperature in the room was pleasantly warm.
“I’m sorry to bother you again, Mrs McGill, but I need to ask some more questions about your husband.”
She nodded weakly. “I intended to return to the cottage by the weekend, but I’ve found it difficult even to come downstairs for dinner. Mike Ross and his men are due to start the guest extension on Monday. I don’t know what to tell him.”
“Mike will assume the job is postponed for the indefinite. The news of your husband’s death is all around Cleland village. Mike’s a decent man, I wouldn’t worry about all that.”
Holly looked relieved. “Good, because I’ll probably sell the place as it is. I couldn’t go back and live there now.”
Ravi shuffled up in his seat as Ted Kilpatrick entered with a china tea set on a tray. He slipped out of the room silently. The detective poured a cup for Holly, placing the saucer directly into her hands.
“We’ve been talking to your husband’s ex-wife and his business associates. I wanted to clarify a few matters with you.”
“Oh yes, what has Eleanor been saying?”
“She suggested that Richard had placed the proceeds of his parents’ house sale into a bank account in your name, and this happened whilst he was still married to Eleanor.”
Holly sighed. “It sounds so awful out of context. Richard was very unhappy in his marriage during that period. His father passed away quite suddenly and we were planning a future together. Richard’s parents never even liked Eleanor. It seemed so unfair that she would get half their estate in a divorce settlement.”
“But what about the children? Weren’t you taking their inhe
ritance too?”
Holly looked surprised. “To be honest, detective. I never thought about them. You tend not to dwell on the children when you’re having an affair with a married man. I suppose I simply assumed Richard would take good care of Tania and Boris.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “I wonder how they’re coping.”
Ravi said nothing to this. “Your husband’s solicitors are still finalising the details of his will. Apparently, it’s quite complicated.”
“Yes, someone from the office is due to call me today. I’m just relieved Richard and I got married before this all happened.”
Ravi couldn’t hide his shocked expression.
“Oh, not so that I could inherit his money! But because it shows the world that our relationship was real, it meant something.” She shook her head in frustration. “When you’ve spent four years being a mistress, you learn to accept that you have no status in society. The wife gets to go to all the functions hanging off the arm of the man you love. As far as the rest of the world knows, you’re just a more than averagely attractive spinster, shoved to the back of the shelf and apparently quite contented to be there.”
Ravi struggled to feel sympathy. “But you are an attractive woman, Mrs McGill. I’m sure you could’ve had your pick. There are plenty of single blokes out there.”
She met his eyes steadily. “I loved him. So, I waited for him to be ready to leave his wife, even though my closest friends told me he never would. But he did, in the end.”
Ravi was struck by what a hollow victory this had turned out to be. “And the move to the cottage in Cleland, that was Richard’s idea?”
She nodded. “Yes, it was. I was happy enough in the city. But Richard wanted us to make a completely new start.” Tears were pooling under her heavy lids. “I wish we’d never bought that place. It was so isolated. Neither of us were the country types, it was madness.”
“Do you know why your husband chose that particular farmhouse to renovate, did he have a connection to the area?”
She considered this carefully. “I really don’t think so. Richard admired the views. He got a really good price for the property, the couple who lived there had died within a few months of one another and had no relatives. I think he liked to drive his car up that way sometimes, so perhaps he knew it for that reason.”
“Eleanor Tasker implied that Richard may have made enemies through his business dealings. Do you know if this was true?”
Holly delved in her pocket for a tissue. “Richard was good at his job. He was tough and didn’t suffer fools gladly, but I don’t know of any enemies as such. Certainly no one who could have done that to him.” She started to sob quietly.
Ravi was struck by how small she looked. He abruptly knelt-down on the carpet between them. “Why didn’t you go with your husband to the front door the night he was killed? It was very late. You weren’t expecting visitors. It seems odd he was left to go alone.”
Holly’s face crumpled. “How can you ask me that? I thought you wanted to help me? It all happened too fast. We’d been drinking wine, I was fetching the dessert. If anyone should have gone, it was Mark. He just sat there, calmly finishing his drink, while Richard was facing that monster.” She began shaking violently.
Ravi reached forward and gently held her arms. “It’s okay, calm down, Mrs McGill. I had to ask. It’s my job.”
Holly breathed in deeply and the shaking subsided. “I’m taking pills that our family doctor gave me. But he says they won’t have much of an effect for a couple of weeks.”
“You’ve had a terrible shock. Stay here with your parents for a while and try to rest.” Ravi moved back to his seat, vaguely aware he’d crossed an invisible line.
Holly wiped her face with a tissue, fixing him with an imploring look. “Will you help me?” She asked simply.
It wasn’t entirely clear to the detective in what way she wished to be helped. “Of course,” he replied.
Chapter 10
Present Day
The younger DCs in the serious crime division had gradually got over the excitement of their win in the five-a-side tournament. The routine hum of the working environment had been restored.
Andy glanced across at Alice Mann, who had looked uncomfortable at her desk since she’d arrived that morning. He moved across to her workstation.
“I’ve e-mailed you the details of the Brewer’s Street investigation,” he explained. “Sharon has gone over there this morning to see if any of the shops opposite the car park have external CCTV we can look at. Although, I don’t think it will get us much further. Hundreds of folk walk those pavements each day. We’ve got no description of the robbers to work from.”
Alice glanced up. “I’ve read through it, thanks. It seems the victims have all claimed on their insurance. The car park owners are bumping up security, aren’t they? There’s not much else we can do.”
“No, boss. I agree.” He perched on the edge of the desk. “How was the conference? I bloody hate those things. You were at the same one as Bevan, weren’t you?”
Alice couldn’t suppress a smile. “Yes, and actually I found it fascinating. When you get presented with all the evidence from an unsolved crime, it’s difficult to resist the urge to try and solve it yourself.”
Andy frowned. “The courses ‘Dour Douglas’ sends me on aren’t anywhere near as interesting as that. They’re usually some bullshit about leadership mentoring or such like.”
She chuckled. “For a man with no sense of humour, the DCS certainly knows how to push your buttons.”
He conceded this point with a nod of the head. “The DCI told us a little about it. Which of the cases captured your interest so much?”
“The McGill murder specifically. It was probably the most high-profile cold case of the last twenty years.”
“Aye, there are still pieces in the papers that pop up every now and again. It fascinated the public for a while.” He scratched his head. “It had all the hallmarks of a gangland hit, but the victim appeared to have no possible connection to the criminal underworld. The team met a brick wall.”
“Have you ever worked a case like that? Where you never got a resolution?”
Andy considered this. “Not in the same way. Back in my early days at Pitt Street we had a multiple killing where we knew the bastard that did it, but the Fiscal wasn’t satisfied with the evidence we had. That man walked free. We always knew who’d committed the crime. It still rankles.”
“I can imagine.”
“But we’ve had plenty of successes since. It balances things out.”
Alice winced, putting her hand to the base of her spine.
“Are you okay? You’ve been shifting about like you’ve got ants in your pants all morning.”
“I can’t seem to get comfortable.”
“The baby must be pressing on something.”
Alice said nothing, everyone had an opinion on her pregnant state.
Andy got to his feet. “You’ll feel better if you stand up and move around,” he added with a friendly grin.
Alice responded with a salute of recognition. It was easier to pretend she hadn’t already worked that one out for herself.
*
The natural light had dulled, as if a heavy rain shower was imminent. Alice was relying on the angled lamp on her desk to work by. She lifted her head when a movement by DCI Bevan’s office caught her attention. It was James Irving, idly waiting for his partner to return from her meeting.
Alice seized the opportunity and approached him. “Good afternoon, Mr Irving. Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Dani. We’re going out to dinner when she finishes here. I’ve got reservations in an hour.”
“I believe the boss is with DCS Douglas. Come and take a seat at my station until she gets back. Douglas can be a bit long-winded in his feedback sessions sometimes.”
James was grateful for the offer. He was beginning to feel like a spare part. “Thanks. It’s DI Mann, isn’t it?”
>
“That’s right. But please call me Alice. We met during the Lexi Mordaunt murder enquiry.” She suddenly realised this may not have been the most tactful thing to say.
James was unperturbed. “Oh yes, I remember. You supervised the taping of a wire to my chest, so I suppose that makes us old friends.”
Alice smiled. “It’s as close as you get to socialising in this job.”
James tilted his head towards Dani’s office. “Tell me about it.”
“The boss could probably put in less hours if she wanted to.”
“But that’s not really her style, is it?” He dipped his head towards Alice’s bump. “But it looks as if you’ll be spending fewer hours here in the not too distant future?”
“I’ve got a couple of months to go, although I’m already feeling the strain.”
“Well, make the most of this time.” He leant forward, “just between you and me, Dani and I have been thinking about starting a family ourselves.”
Alice couldn’t prevent her eyes widening in surprise. “She never gave any indication.” The DI immediately wondered if anything she’d said recently could have been viewed as tactless.
James sighed. “These things never seem to happen to plan. I suppose Dani and I have left it rather late, which would explain why we’ve had no joy yet.”
Alice automatically touched her hand to the bump, considering the number of times she’d resented the unexpected pregnancy, taking for granted how easy it was for her to conceive. “Shit. And I’ve been moaning to the boss about my minor aches and pains. Bloody hell, Calder’s always telling me I need a better social radar, maybe he’s right.”
“I wouldn’t say Andy’s a great candidate for the diplomatic service himself,” James replied dryly. “And try not to worry, Dani would never resent your good fortune.”
Alice decided it was a good time to change the subject. “Did the boss mention the case study we were given to analyse at the conference?”
James nodded. “The doorstep shooting in the Highlands? Yes, we discussed it.”
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