‘It’s good to see you out and about again.’
‘After thinking you never would?’ A look in his eyes told her that she had hit the mark. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘There were moments when I thought the same, more than a few of them.’ She drank some of her water, straight from the bottle. ‘Mario, can I ask you something?’
‘Of course. What?’
‘Remember at my going-away do, when I went on maternity leave, when I shocked the world by saying that I wouldn’t be coming back to the job?’
He chuckled softly. ‘Who will ever forget it?’
‘In that case, do you think that I would have any credibility among my colleagues if I went back on my word, once I’m ready?’
Mario leaned back in his chair and gazed at her. ‘Mags,’ he murmured, ‘I don’t remember you ever asking a stupid question, until now. I can’t think of a senior officer who doesn’t expect you to do just that. When you do, you’ll be welcomed back with open arms. We all miss you like hell.’
‘I might put Mary Chambers’s nose out of joint. She probably expects to succeed me permanently, on promotion.’
‘Mary’s not so petty. Besides, I wouldn’t let that happen; I wasn’t best pleased when she was moved out of CID, but in the circumstances I couldn’t say so. I was promised a period of stability, but with Mackenzie crashing and burning and Mary being moved into your job, my divisional commanders are going down like ninepins.’
‘Mackenzie? How is the Bandit?’
‘We don’t call him that any more. He wants to put those flash Harry days behind him. He’s Chief Inspector David Mackenzie now, back in uniform as staff officer in the command corridor.’
‘Does that mean that Jack McGurk’s staying at Torphichen Place?’
‘Yes, with DI Stallings, our new arrival from the Met.’
‘You’ve put her in there?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘I could hardly send her to the Leith office, since she’s shagging Ray Wilding.’
‘What?’
‘He was part of the reason for her move, probably the main reason.’
‘God, I really am out of the loop! All this office gossip I’ve been missing out on. I’ve got to get back.’
‘Yes, but not before you’re ready.’
She held up a hand. ‘I know, I know: it’ll be a few months yet. But still . . .’ She frowned. ‘Mario,’ she continued, in an untypically tentative voice, ‘if I called on everything we’ve been to each other over the years, would you do me a favour?’
He stared back at her, wondering what was to come. ‘Jesus, when you put it like that it must be a big one. Spit it out.’
’Okay. It has to do with Dražen Boras, the man who killed Stevie.’
‘What about the bastard?’
‘He’s still on the run, isn’t he?’
Mario nodded. ‘I’m afraid so,’ he admitted. ‘By the time the boss and I tied him to it, and the Met went to pick him up, he was gone. He and his Bosnian father were mixed up in some serious Balkan stuff, running people in there for the CIA, and for us. He has contacts in the States and we’re pretty sure he used them to help him disappear.’
‘I’d like to try and find him.’
He sat bolt upright. ‘You’d what?’
‘I mean it. I’d like to run a wee private-enterprise search for him. I don’t mean physically; I know I’m tied down for a while. But, as you’ll imagine, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about Mr Boras. That’s not good for me: it makes me obsessive. So I need to do something proactive.’
‘Such as?’
‘I don’t actually know. For openers, I’d like to see the file you have on him, the one that you and Bob Skinner put together, and I’d like to know everything that Bob found out about him in London.’
‘I don’t have that: it’s not on paper. It came from MI5. I’ve just given you the outline.’
‘Okay, I’ll talk to him.’
‘But what are you going to do with this information?’
‘I told you, I don’t know yet. I just want to read it, to think about it, and to see if I can come up with any ideas about where he might be. Even if I can’t, I’ll feel better for having tried.’
‘Mags, you realise that this isn’t even our thing, don’t you? He didn’t commit any crime on our patch.’
A look of real pain settled on her face. ‘It may not be “our thing”, as you put it,’ she said slowly, ‘but it sure as hell is mine. It was my husband he killed: that gives me jurisdiction.’
‘Okay.’
Her eyes brightened. ‘You’ll do it?’
‘I’ll do what I can. That means I’ll give you a copy of the report the boss and I handed over to Les Cairns in Northumberland; I don’t have anything else for you to go on. Yes, you should talk to the DCC and see what he’s prepared to tell you. I’ll give you his phone number out in L’Escala. Promise me one thing, though, Mags.’
‘Maybe.’
‘If he tells you to drop it, you’ll do just that.’
Her smile returned. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’ll promise you that. Because I don’t think there’s a chance he’ll try to stop me. You know Bob Skinner; you know how he’ll feel about Dražen Boras getting away with killing one of his people. I bet you he gives me all the help he can.’
Twelve
‘I’m sorry about the hour, Mrs Brown,’ said Becky Stallings.
A volley sounded in her ear.
‘Yes, I appreciate that it’s only half past four in Boston.’
The voice on the line did not sound mollified.
‘Yes, I know you’re on holiday and, no, I’m not a market researcher. I’m a police officer.’ Pause. ‘Yes, I said police officer, Detective Inspector Stallings, from Edinburgh. First of all, can you confirm that I am speaking with Mrs Grace Brown, the principal of Mary Erskine School? . . . I am. Good. I was given this number by your school administrator, but you can’t be too careful.’
‘I suppose not,’ the drowsy voice replied. ‘Now that you have interrupted my sleep, what can I do for you? Has there been an incident at the school?’ A note of concern crept in. ‘Has something happened to one of the kids?’
‘No, to both questions,’ Stallings told her. ‘I want to talk to you about one of your teachers, Miss Dean. I believe she’s in your art department.’
‘Sugar? Yes, that’s right. What’s up?’
‘When did you see her last?’
‘The day before school broke up. That would make it the Thursday before last. I remember that, because she didn’t turn up on the Friday. Our last morning assembly of the session is a big event. All the staff are expected to be there, but Sugar wasn’t. I asked her department head whether she had called in, and he said that she hadn’t. I meant to call her myself, to see if she was sick, but the day got filled up, and it slipped my mind.’
‘Did she have any history of absenteeism?’
‘No, not at all. She was an exemplary staff member, but having been brought up in a teaching household, you’d expect that. Now, why have you woken me up to ask me this?’
‘Because the body of a young woman was found yesterday morning, in woods near Murrayfield golf course.’
Stallings heard a gasp. ‘Sugar?’
‘We don’t know. But the body had been there for some time; it would be consistent with the date you’re talking about.’
‘The school will give you a photograph; we have one on file.’
‘That won’t be enough, Mrs Brown.’
‘Oh, God!’
‘Let’s not jump to conclusions,’ said Stallings. ‘At the moment we’re trying to contact Miss Dean’s parents in the hope that she’s with them.’
‘She won’t be,’ the woman told her. ‘Sugar was planning to go to the South of France to paint. She told me that she had rented an apartment in a place called Collioure.’
‘Was she going alone?’
‘She didn’t tell me, but I suspect not.’
�
��Why?’
‘She was friendly with a young man; she called him her apprentice. He was a pupil at our companion school Stewart’s-Melville. I use the past tense because he left at the end of term.’
‘She was in a relationship with a pupil? Is that allowed?’
‘Of course not, but it wasn’t regarded as a relationship. The boy is a very promising painter, and Sugar was giving him spare-time tuition, with the full knowledge of his parents and with my approval. However, I did hear that they were seeing a lot of each other.’
‘Did you do anything about it?’
‘I had a gentle word with her. She wasn’t upset. She told me, “Mrs Brown, I promise you that I’m not breaking any rules with Davis, nor will I.” Those were her very words.’
‘Davis?’
‘Davis Colledge, with a “d”. That’s his name. Very good-looking young man; and he didn’t have a girlfriend, hence the gossip.’
‘If it was only gossip, what makes you think they were planning to go off together?’
‘The way that she said it. I may be wrong but I took her to be implying that once he was no longer a pupil ...’
‘There would be no rules to break?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Where can we find this young man?’
‘You don’t think he’d anything to ...’
Stallings cut her off. ‘Until we identify the dead woman I’m not thinking anything, but if it is Sugar, we’re going to need to speak to him.’
‘In that case, you’ll have to contact the school, either directly or through the Merchant Company. I believe that Davis was a boarder.’
‘They do that?’
‘Of course, Inspector; so do we. We have a mix of day pupils and boarders.’
‘I see. Thank you, Mrs Brown. That’s all I need to ask you. Again, I’m sorry to have disturbed your holiday. I’ll let you get back to sleep now.’
‘Fat chance. Look, Inspector, you will let me know, won’t you, one way or another, once you identify this poor woman?’
‘Yes, I promise. ’Bye for now.’ She hung up and turned to Jack McGurk. We need an address,’ she told him. ‘Lad named Davis Colledge . . . with a “d”. Until the week before last he was a pupil at Mary Erskine’s partner school.’
‘I’m on to it,’ the sergeant replied.
She turned to Haddock; he was standing solemnly by her desk, as if he had been waiting for her to finish. ‘Sauce?’
‘I’ve just spoken to John Dean, Sugar’s dad. He and his wife were at the shops when I called earlier; that’s why there was no reply. His understanding is that Sugar’s in France. In a place called ...’
‘Collioure?’
‘That’s it, ma’am.’
‘When did they see her last?’
‘The last day of term, when she left to walk to work. He and Mrs Dean are both primary-school teachers; he’s a headmaster. They both finished at lunchtime that day, and headed straight up to Appin. As they understood it, Sugar was flying to Perpignan next morning.’
‘But they haven’t heard from her since?’
‘No.’
She looked at him. ‘Did you tell him why you were calling?’
‘I had to. He didn’t buy “routine enquiries” for a second. He and his wife are heading home straight away.’
‘Okay, Sauce, that’s well done. Breaking news like that is tough for me, and I’m longer in the tooth than you are.’
‘There’s something else, ma’am. Once we had got past that I asked him if there was anything in Sugar’s medical record that would help us eliminate her. He said she had her appendix out when she was ten, and broke her left arm falling off her bike when she was fifteen.’ The young detective constable frowned. ‘I’ve just checked the post-mortem report. It’s her, no doubt about it.’
Thirteen
‘Let me ask you again,’ said Bob Skinner. ‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’
‘Yes, I am. I don’t expect to achieve anything, apart from the comfort of knowing I made the effort, but I feel that I have to do it.’
‘Maggie, my dear, you’re on sick leave, maternity leave and compassionate leave all at the same time. It would be against justifiably established police practice for me to let you do this.’
‘Yes, it would, wouldn’t it?’ They were a thousand miles apart, yet he could see her smile as she spoke.
‘Ah, to hell with it,’ he exclaimed. ‘Go for it. Mario’s already called me to let me know, and I think to seek my approval after the event. The report we put together was typed up by a Special Branch secretary; that’s how confidential it is. But I’ve agreed with his rash promise to give you a copy.’
‘Thanks, boss.’ There was a moment’s silence on the line. ‘Mario said there was other information, stuff that only you have.’
‘There is,’ said Skinner, ‘but I’m not going to give you it over an insecure telephone line. If you think you need it, I’ll visit you when I get back, although I’m not sure that any of it will be any good to you.’
‘In that case, I’ll start with the report, and see what I can glean from that.’
‘You do that.’ He paused. ‘Let’s be professional about this, Maggie, rather than just plain personal. What are you bringing to this investigation . . . apart from your obvious motivation, that is?’
‘A fresh eye. I won’t say objectivity, but I’ve held high rank in CID, so I should know what I’m doing.’
‘And that’s why I’m giving you the go-ahead, albeit on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That should you find it becoming too much for you to handle, emotionally or physically, you hold your hand up at the very first moment it does and tell me. I’ll pick up whatever progress you’ve made and take it on from there myself. Deal?’
‘Deal.’
‘Good. Now, I’ve been thinking as we’ve been speaking. If you’re going to do this, you’d better have official status. Your study, as we’ll call it, will be part of the internal investigation into Stevie’s death, and for its purpose, you are temporarily attached to Special Branch. You won’t use its office, and you won’t get in the SB commander’s way, but if at any time you need access to sensitive information, you can use the clout that department gives you.’
‘Thanks, sir. I appreciate the leverage, even though I don’t imagine I’ll use it.’
‘Don’t be so sure. If you make any progress, I reckon you will. All the best now, I’ll see you when you get back. Oh, and one other thing, Chief Superintendent Steele. I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am that you’ve changed your mind about leaving the force. It can’t afford to lose you.’
As he hung up, Aileen came into the room. ‘Who was that?’ she asked.
‘That? I reckon it was the awakening of a sleeping tigress. Maggie Rose Steele is on the prowl, on the scent of Dražen Boras.’
‘Judging by the look on your face that’s good, but is she up to it yet?’
‘It’s probably the best therapy she could have,’ said Bob. ‘I’ve told Mario to monitor her closely, but I’m sure she’ll be fine. Who knows? Maggie being Maggie, she might even get a result.’
Fourteen
‘Do you want to make this call, ma’am?’ asked Detective Constable Haddock. ‘I’ve finally traced Davis Colledge’s family, through the office at the Merchant Company. I thought there was something familiar about the name. His father’s a Member of Parliament . . . Westminster, not Holyrood.’
‘Michael Colledge?’ DI Stallings exclaimed. ‘The shadow Defence Secretary?’
‘That’s the man.’
‘In that case, Sauce, yes; you’d better leave that one to me. In fact, I’d better check further up the line myself.’
She picked up the phone and dialled Neil McIlhenney: as commander of all CID operations in Edinburgh, he was her operational boss. All day, she had been keeping him briefed on the progress of the inquiry. She heard him sigh as she gave him the latest update. �
��Do you want to take it on from here, sir?’ she asked. ‘Given that he’s a VIP?’
‘Do you want me to?’
‘I’m not asking,’ she replied, ‘if that’s what you mean.’
‘In that case, go ahead. You’ve got the rank; you don’t need me. Anyway, the guy’s not a VIP; he’s a Tory.’
She laughed. ‘I won’t tell anyone you said that.’
‘It wouldn’t hurt my career if you did. This is Scotland: we’ve got more dinosaurs left than we have Tories.’
Stallings opened her bag and took out her Filofax. It was one of her most treasured possessions. It had been an eighteenth-birthday gift from her boyfriend of the moment, but its value was far more than sentimental. Within its brown-leather cover was every telephone number she had called since then, personal and professional, listed alphabetically on well-thumbed pages. She opened at ‘C’, and drew a blank, but switched to ‘H’ and found the main number for the House of Commons.
It took several minutes for the switchboard to locate the Member of Parliament for Newtown Mowbray through his researcher. When he came on line, he sounded distinctly out of breath. ‘My assistant says that you’re the police,’ he gasped.
‘Yes, Mr Colledge,’ the DI began, pushing thoughts of MPs and their researchers to the back of her mind. ‘Becky Stallings, detective inspector, Edinburgh, CID. I need to contact your son, Davis. I wonder if you can tell me how I can reach him.’
‘Dave? Why do you want Dave? What the hell’s he been up to? I’ve had no reports from his school of any incidents.’
‘He hasn’t been up to anything, sir. I need to speak to him in connection with an investigation we have going up here.’
‘What’s it about?’
‘The death of a woman. We haven’t confirmed her identity formally, but we believe she was your son’s art tutor.’
‘Jesus! Sugar? You are absolutely certain that it’s her?’
‘We’ll need to use DNA to confirm it, but I’m in no doubt.’
18 - Aftershock Page 6