‘And who did own her?’ Penrith asked. Mulligan exhaled.
‘Like I said, these people don’t shake your hand and introduce themselves. No real names are used, not even nicknames.’
‘You expect us to believe you’ve no idea who you were working with, or for? Forgive me if I don’t,’ said Penrith.
‘It’s the truth. It’s like a… a secret society. You know? You indicate you’re willing to trade in…’ Mulligan rubbed a hand across his mouth, ‘well, in people. And customers make themselves known.’
‘Word got around? There must have been a middleman, someone who knew both of you.’ Penrith said.
‘Don’t know. Don’t think so. Friend of a friend of a friend, maybe. You can’t find out who told who, no way.’
Penrith shrugged. ‘We’ll try, if it’s all the same to you. I’ll need the address of that squat, for starters.’
Mulligan’s lips twitched. ‘Gladly.’
They all knew it would be a dead end.
Caelan said, ‘How did these mystery people contact you? Did they phone, come to your house?’
‘I had a burner phone, changed the number every few days. No doubt everyone else did too. I don’t know how the numbers were passed around, but they always were. Like I said, there are people pulling the strings, but I don’t know who they are. It was mainly calls, yeah. Short ones – the requirements, a location for the drop-off.’ He paused. ‘The price.’
She studied him. ‘You sure you weren’t selling second-hand cars?’
‘What?’
‘Requirements, drop-offs? We’re talking about people here.’ She took a breath, told herself to stay calm. Mulligan would love knowing he had got to her. Sure enough, he leered across the table.
‘Getting emotionally involved, Victoria? Not allowed in your job, is it?’
‘We need names, Mulligan.’ Penrith tried to bring them back to the point. ‘I’ll remind you, one of these customers of yours could have your sister.’
‘Told you, I’ve none to give you.’ Mulligan tapped his foot against the table leg. ‘Would if I could, but the whole point was, no one knew the identity of anyone else. Then if one of us got nicked, we wouldn’t be able to give them up to you lot.’
‘Then you’ve nothing to bargain with.’ Penrith began to rise from his seat. ‘We’re wasting our time. You can go back to prison, for good this time.’
‘What made her different?’ Caelan asked softly. Penrith hesitated, sat back down. Mulligan looked at her.
‘What?’ he said.
‘This girl you were lent for the night.’ She hated speaking so casually, but she wanted Mulligan to tell her the truth. ‘Why didn’t you have sex with her? I’m assuming you hadn’t been troubled by your conscience before? There must have been other girls.’
He tried a smile. ‘Would you believe me if I said no? Not like that.’
‘No, I wouldn’t.’ She paused, thinking about it. ‘Did she look like your sister?’
She watched his face and knew she was right when he blinked rapidly.
‘Not exactly, but there was a resemblance,’ he said. ‘And I… Well. It made me think. I put her on the train up to Glasgow Central the next morning.’
‘Not back to her home?’
He winked at her. ‘She didn’t want to go. Anyway, I didn’t want her telling tales.’
Caelan bit back a torrent of abuse. He wasn’t worth it.
‘And now your sister could be in the same situation,’ Penrith said. ‘Like I keep saying, time for you to start talking.’
Mulligan tried to rub his face. ‘Aye, all right. The people who brought the girls over from Albania – I never knew their names, never met them. My boys – the fuckers who’ve stitched me up and told you everything they know – they’re Albanian too. You’ve no doubt noticed.’ A hint of his usual grin. ‘They knew where to find the girls, and who could get them here. I didn’t ask questions.’
‘Not what your two former employees have told us,’ Penrith said.
‘Told you I did it all myself, did they? Aye, right, because I speak fluent Albanian. You better talk to them again, though it won’t do you any good. The people at the top of this game are careful. They don’t meet face to face; they use go-betweens to exchange money, and then the go-betweens turn up dead. They’re like shadows. It’s not a pleasant business.’ Mulligan shook his head, as though disappointed. As though he’d never been involved.
‘You led us to believe you could be useful to us. Now I’m not so sure.’ Penrith glanced at his phone, checking the time. ‘Your sister’s probably in a brothel somewhere by now, preparing for her first client.’
Mulligan studied him, unmoved. ‘That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it? That’s your ace, and you’re going to play it over and over again.’
Penrith gave him a cheerful smile. ‘That, and the fact that we can have you put away for the rest of your life. You can bleat on all you like about how you saved an Albanian innocent, but the fact is, we’re giving you a chance you don’t deserve.’
‘Tell me something,’ Mulligan said, his voice quiet, thoughtful. ‘Why would my sister be snatched now?’
‘What do you mean?’ Penrith shifted in his chair.
‘I’m just back on the streets after a stay in hospital, and questioning. If I was going to spill my guts to you, wouldn’t I have done it while I was in custody? While I was trying to save my arse?’
Penrith leant closer. ‘Maybe you did. Maybe that’s why you were released.’ He gave another grim smile. ‘Maybe people are already wondering what you told us while we had you under lock and key.’
Mulligan leapt forward again, clawing for Penrith. ‘You fucker, what have you been telling people? If my sister’s been snatched because of you lot, if she’s hurt—’
‘It’ll be your fault.’ Penrith reached into his pocket, pulled out and held up a mobile. ‘Yours, I think?’ He left it on the table in front of Mulligan as he pushed back his chair, stood this time. ‘Use it wisely. I know Caelan will be keeping an eye on you. I want you to introduce her and Ewan to Reuben and Nathan Nash, and any other lowlifes you can think of. Reuben Nash owns a nightclub, doesn’t he?’
Mulligan stared. ‘If you can call it that. It’s a shitehole. How do you know about it?’
Penrith chuckled. ‘We have intel people, you know. Anyway, you’re not the only one who makes secret phone calls. Caelan called me earlier, reported in on your evening at Stand. Sounded like fun. We know who you spoke to once you got home, by the way. Quite touching, really.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘You tried to call your sister, but only got her voicemail. Not surprising at that time of night, but it makes me wonder why you did it.’
‘Do I need a reason? I’d just got out of prison. I wanted to say hello.’
Amazed, Caelan realised Mulligan was blushing. He could talk about his crimes with barely a blink, but catch him showing concern for his sister and he was embarrassed. Again she was reminded that she had to remember who he was, what he’d done.
‘Did you want to warn Lucy?’ Penrith rocked back on his heels. ‘Perhaps someone had used her as a threat before? Were you worried?’
Mulligan snorted. ‘What do you think? Yeah, I was worried. She’s a young woman, and she’s clever, but she’s vulnerable because she doesn’t know… well, about my life. My lifestyle. I wanted to tell her to watch her back.’
Caelan stepped towards him, suddenly suspicious. ‘Did you tell her you were working with us, with the police?’
‘I—’
‘Did you?’
He shook his head. ‘Course I didn’t. I stuck to the story. Released without charge. You think I’m crazy? May as well have shot her in the head myself. Working with the police is even worse than grassing someone up to them.’ He licked his lips again. ‘Anyway, can’t you listen to the message, hear what I said? I don’t remember the exact words, but there was nothing about you lot.’
Slowly Caelan
moved away. For once, she believed him. He wouldn’t do anything to put himself at risk.
Penrith was halfway through the door. ‘We’ll speak again over the next few days. I’ll expect you to have introduced my officers to everyone in your address book by then. Last chance to give us information we can use, Mulligan, or at least point us in the right direction. If you don’t, the deal’s off. We’ll start sniffing around your friends, see if we can find your sister. Goodnight, all.’
The door banged behind him and Mulligan gazed at Caelan and Achebe, head on one side. ‘Goodnight? Is he taking the piss?’
‘Probably,’ Achebe told him.
11
8 December
Heading for a narrow gap between a kebab shop and an estate agent’s, Mulligan led them down the kind of dingy alley usually reserved for emptying your bladder or dropping your trousers for some other reason. There were a few people about, several already staggering as they approached the queue waiting by the club’s entrance. Two bouncers, one male, one female, were on the door, smiling and chatting as they waved people inside. A group of middle-aged women cackled and nudged each other as three younger blokes joined the queue behind them, the men exchanging awkward grins as they shuffled their feet, embarrassed. Caelan saw one of the women wink at Ewan as they approached the back of the line, and tucked her arm through his possessively.
‘You were right,’ she told Mulligan.
‘Had to happen sooner or later. How do you mean?’
‘This place really is a shithole.’
He pretended to wince. ‘Wait until you get inside.’
Caelan watched a couple wearing jeans and trainers move past the bouncers, who didn’t give them a second glance. ‘They’re not even checking people’s bags.’
‘Not that kind of place,’ Mulligan said.
She could believe it. ‘Asking for trouble.’
They moved a few steps forward. Mulligan’s hands were in his pockets, head up. Back in the game.
‘People come here to relax, maybe do some business,’ he said. ‘No one wants to be searched on their way in.’
‘And the management won’t want to do it anyway. Not in their interests.’ Caelan lowered her voice as another group stumbled up behind them. ‘No doubt you can sell anything in here as long as you hand over a cut of the profits.’
‘No comment.’ Mulligan grinned as he gave a jaunty wave to someone near the front of the queue. ‘And don’t let Reuben hear you say that, or anyone else.’
Caelan smiled back. ‘I’ll be subtle.’
‘Aye, I’m sure.’ He made a sound of disgust.
The club’s entrance was anonymous, black doors with a small silver sign above them. Caelan squinted up at it.
‘Reuben’s? That’s imaginative.’
The male bouncer caught her eye as they passed. ‘Have a good evening,’ he said. She nodded, trying to look as though she couldn’t wait to get inside, but suppressed a sigh as they made their way down a gloomy corridor towards the music. This was going to be a long night. Nightclubs weren’t her favourite places, especially when she was working. There were dark corners where someone might hide or lie in wait, and keeping track of one person was next to impossible. The music made it difficult to talk, and people under the influence of alcohol or drugs weren’t always rational. All in all, she would rather Mulligan had taken them anywhere else than two different nightclubs on consecutive nights, but it was out of her control.
Ewan glanced down at her, his smile questioning, and Caelan gave him a tiny nod. At least on this job she wasn’t alone, as she had been so many times before.
The smell of sweat and cheap aftershave was as overwhelming as the crush of bodies around the bar. There were a few spotlights making lazy circles on the black-painted ceiling, the music loud but nowhere near as crisp as it had been in the Stand the night before. Drugs were changing hands, shots being downed. People were here to enjoy their evening, and who could blame them? In some ways Caelan wished she could march over to the bar, order a double vodka and join them.
Their shoes already sticking to the floor, Mulligan led them to a table in a dark corner. The table was battered, the chairs covered in dark red fabric dotted with stains and spills.
‘Good vantage point, you see?’ he said as he flung himself down. He had perked up since the meeting with Penrith, especially after a few hours’ sleep and another takeaway. ‘I’m getting good at this.’
Caelan took the chair beside Mulligan’s and leant towards him.
‘Who have you seen so far?’
He pursed his lips. ‘Big guy over there? Blue shirt, black jeans?’
She glanced over discreetly. ‘The miserable-looking one?’
‘Aye, that’s him. Nathan Nash, Reuben’s brother. Always looks like he’s at his mam’s funeral.’ Mulligan looked at Ewan as he pulled out a chair. ‘You away to the bar, big man?’
Ewan frowned. ‘Why not.’
Watching him walk away, Mulligan smirked. ‘Don’t think your boyfriend’s happy. You could be a bit more affectionate, you know? I think he’s pining.’
Caelan ignored that. ‘What does Nathan Nash do?’
‘Helps his brother here.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘Like what? Charity work?’
‘Something legit.’
Mulligan wagged a finger. ‘I haven’t said they’re into anything dodgy. They run this place, maybe turn a blind eye to a bit of dealing or thieving.’
‘Then why are we here?’
‘I told you. Stand is the club to be seen in; Reuben’s is the place to do business. Look around you. Most people are your average punters, here for the cheap booze. But you’ve also got those who aren’t just here to enjoy themselves.’
Caelan waited for five young women to pass their table. ‘Tell me who I should be watching.’
Mulligan laughed. ‘Watching? I’ve already seen you have a good look at a few people – the blonde in the red dress who just went by for one.’
Caelan refused to smile. ‘Is Reuben Nash around?’
His eyes flicked over the crowd. ‘Not yet. He’ll be in his office upstairs; he’ll come down later on. He likes to get a feel for how the evening’s going, or so he says.’
‘What about Stefan Harris?’
Mulligan’s nostrils flared. ‘What about him?’
‘Will he be here?’
‘I’m not his secretary. Look, Reuben Nash hates Harris. Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know. Harris comes here sometimes because he knows it’ll be worth his while. He and Nash are polite, but in that strained way, you know?’ Mulligan raised his eyebrows. ‘As though it wouldn’t take much for them to start punching each other.’
‘Like you and me.’
Mulligan laughed, but his eyes were cold. ‘Aye, you’re not kidding.’
There was a silence. Caelan watched Mulligan fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, run a hand through his hair. He was doing his best to appear calm, confident, but she realised he was anything but. He hadn’t mentioned his sister, and Penrith hadn’t been in touch, so they had no idea what was happening. It seemed unlikely, given the mess in her bedroom and the items she had left behind, that Lucy had gone voluntarily, but Caelan knew better than most that things weren’t always what they seemed. She sat back, hoping she looked relaxed, as though she was enjoying herself.
No chance.
She remembered the faces of the three young people in the photographs Penrith had shown her. She had to focus on them as well as Lucy. Someone knew who they were, why they’d died. Had they seen too much? Asked questions? Protested at being used like pieces of meat? She knew she had to trust Achebe and Somerville to do their jobs, but finding justice for the three unidentified faces was her responsibility too. She needed to talk to Penrith, to ask whether she could have some background details on any of the people she had met through Mulligan so far. In her job, it wasn’t always deemed a good idea to be given a lot of information about
a suspect or person of interest. If you had background knowledge, it could lead to you mentioning something or someone the person in question hadn’t told you about. She’d known covers blown by an officer mentioning a place or person they shouldn’t have been aware of. It didn’t happen often, should never happen at all, but she and her fellow officers were human, and where there were humans, there were mistakes.
Ewan appeared, clutching three beer bottles, trailed by Jolene Townsend, the woman Mulligan had introduced them to the night before. Mulligan leapt out of his chair and bounded towards her as Ewan set the beers on the table.
‘You’re slumming it tonight, Mulligan,’ Jolene said, watching him over the rim of her glass.
‘On your own?’ he asked.
She smiled. ‘For now. Non-alcoholic lager?’ She gestured towards his beer bottle. ‘Gone over to the dark side, have you?’
Mulligan’s face froze for a second, but he quickly recovered. ‘Still on the painkillers. Got to avoid the drink for the time being. You know how it is.’ He pulled out a chair for her, guided her into it. He jerked his head towards Caelan and Ewan. ‘Owen’s driving, Vic’s here to work.’
Jolene met Caelan’s eyes, one eyebrow raised. ‘Work?’
‘I’m showing her the ropes.’ Mulligan spoke lightly, but Caelan knew what the words were costing him. Here was the subterfuge, and with it the admission that he might need help. He was being forced to acknowledge that he’d been rattled by his run-in with the police and was worried about the future of his business if they should start sniffing around again.
‘I don’t understand.’ Jolene was talking to Mulligan but still looking at Caelan, her expression guarded. Caelan hesitated, waiting to see what Mulligan would say. He leant towards Jolene, speaking quietly.
‘Vic knows my game inside out, and she’s family. You remember Andri and Erdi?’
‘Your thick-as-pig-shit assistants?’ Jolene scoffed. ‘Hard to forget them. Banged up, aren’t they?’
‘Exactly. And a man can’t run a business empire like mine on his own.’ Mulligan stretched his legs out in front of him and drank some beer. ‘When Vic heard what had happened, that my boys were out of the picture, she volunteered her services.’
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