‘You’ve redeemed yourself, lassie. Well done. So what will you do now?’
‘Damn. We need to see Dubrowski before they take him away.’
* * *
Dubrowski, intimidated by the ominous silence, dropped the cocky expression he was so fond of wearing and regarded West with a look of concerned confusion as Munro, standing behind her, glared at him for what seemed like an eternity.
‘Who told you to kill Angus Buchanan?’ said West bluntly.
Dubrowski glanced at Munro and smirked.
‘Nobody is telling me this,’ he said as his arrogance resurfaced, ‘as I say before, I am doing it for the monies.’
‘Where did you get the rock from?’
‘The rock?’
‘The crystal meth you rammed down his throat.’
‘I…’
‘You see, Mr Dubrowski, if it was the money you were after, you could’ve just mugged him and legged it.’
‘Yes, maybe, but then he is knowing it is me who…’
‘So you killed him?’ said West. ‘So he couldn’t identify you? Fair enough. Things is, I could understand it if you’d stabbed him. Or strangled him. Or broken his neck, even. But the meth?’
‘It gives him heart attack,’ said Dubrowski, ‘it makes it look like…’
‘Cut the crap. Last chance. Who gave you the meth?’
‘I am having no comment.’
Munro, still glowering, took six slow, measured steps towards Dubrowski and stopped by his side.
‘I know something you don’t,’ he said, his voice low and threatening, ‘you see, the gentleman who gave you the rock, Mr Dubrowski, has mislaid an entire batch of meth. And this gentleman believes someone he knows may have stolen it. As you can imagine, he’s not happy. Not happy at all.’
‘What has this to do with me?’
‘This gentleman has associates on the inside. In prison. The same prison where we’ve reserved a room for you. See here, Mr Dubrowski, if he thinks it was you who stole his meth then chances are, you’ll not live long enough to see your next birthday. Do you get what I’m saying?’
‘It was not me!’ said Dubrowski, panicking. ‘You must tell him, I did not steal drugs. I am a loyal person, I…’
‘You’re on your own, pal. Trust me. When he finds out it was you…’
‘It was Clare!’
‘What?’ said West, ‘Clare MacAllister?’
‘Tak.’
‘Your… girlfriend?’
‘Tak. She tells me Mr Carducci has been good to me and now he is needing a favour. She is giving me the rock and telling me how to use it. She says if I do not do it then Mr Carducci will be coming for me.’
* * *
‘Was that true’ said West, as they made their way up to the office.
‘Was what true, Charlie?’
‘That bit about Carducci having mates on the inside.’
‘I’ve no idea, lassie. Probably not.’
Chapter 18
Dougal – still salivating over the lamb chops and mashed potatoes – had come to realise that there was more to life than fish-paste sandwiches, bacon toasties or take-away curries and sat trawling the web for fool-proof recipes that a novice like himself could master without torching the kitchen when Munro and West breezed into office.
‘Shepherd’s pie,’ he said. ‘Did you know it’s just mince and tatties?’
‘You what?’ said West.
‘Shepherd’s pie. It’s a piece of cake.’
‘I think you’re confusing that with a gateau,’ said Munro. ‘What the devil are you blethering about, laddie?’
‘I was looking for stuff to cook, easy stuff even I could do.’
‘And what’s brought about this irrepressible urge to make a mess in kitchen?’
‘Last night. Cannae thank you enough, miss. I never appreciated just how easy it is to whip up a decent meal if you’re willing to make the effort.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ said West, ‘but next time there will be a service charge.’
‘I’d not complain about that. Anyway, I’ve some news for you two…’
‘Just a moment, Dougal,’ said Munro, raising his hand. ‘Clare MacAllister. She’s in collusion with Remo Carducci. If we’re to take Dubrowski at his word, it was Clare who told him to kill Buchanan, at Carducci’s request.’
‘Really? So she’s not just a humble manageress, then?’
‘Apparently not. Have her brought in as soon as possible.’
‘Right away, boss. Now, I’ve a couple of things for you: first of all, Heather Buchanan – she’s locked herself out.’
‘Can she not get a locksmith?’ said Munro.
‘Maybe, if she knew where to find one.’
‘Well, what about uniform? Surely this is more up their street?’
‘I tried,’ said Dougal, ‘but she’s not having it. She’s in an awful state, boss. Kept asking for you. She went to the Carducci residence to pick up a spare set of keys but no-one’s answering.’
‘Well maybe he’s left for Italy already.’
‘I hope not,’ said West.
‘Okay,’ said Munro, ‘tell her to stay put. We’re going there now, we’ll see her home.’
‘Right you are. Second thing,’ said Dougal, ‘the Hordaland Police have been in touch, you’ll not believe what…’
‘James, Charlie, Dougal. I do hope I’m not interrupting,’ said DCI Elliot as he blew through the door, ‘I’ll not keep you long.’
‘No, you’re alright, George,’ said Munro, ‘is something up?’
‘Yes and no.’
‘Is this to do with the case?’ said West.
‘Yes and no.’
‘By jiminy,’ said Munro, ‘did you go to the same school as young Dougal here? What is it, man?’
‘I just came to ask if you’d plans afoot to arrest anybody else, only we’re full up.’
‘Sorry?’ said West.
‘No room at the inn. Booked out. Your guests have taken all the cells.’
‘Dinnae fret,’ said Munro, ‘one of them’s about to check out.’
‘Thank goodness for that. What about the others? Only the boys downstairs have a couple of fellas looking for a cancellation, they need somewhere to rest for a couple of hours before they take a tour of the courthouse.’
‘We’ll get Dougal to sort it,’ said West, ‘a couple of charge sheets and they should be on their way too.’
‘Good, good. So you’re making progress then?’
‘Aye, the slow and steady kind,’ said Munro.
‘Excellent. Well, I’ll leave you to it then,’ said Elliot. ‘Thanking you.’
‘Sorry, Dougal, as you were saying,’ said Munro, slightly bewildered.
‘We’ve a report back from the Hordaland Police on the flat in Loddefjord. They’re over it like a rash and they’ve sent some pictures too if you’re interested.’
‘Not just now, laddie, we have to pick up Remo Carducci and give his wife’s salon the once over too, so let’s just have the details, chop chop.’
‘Right you are. First off, they doubt anyone’s actually living there.’
‘Meaning what?’ said West. ‘Is it run down? Empty? Abandoned?’
‘No, no. It’s clean and well furnished,’ said Dougal, ‘but there are no personal possessions. No clothes, no pictures on the wall, not even a bar of soap in the bathroom.’
‘Not what you’d call a home, then?’
‘Not unless you’re a minimalist.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘No, here’s the best bit. Thanks to Andras…’
‘Andras?’ said Munro. ‘Who the devil is Andras?’
‘Andras is a Belgian Malinois,’ said Dougal. ‘She’s a sniffer dog, boss, and guess what? She found a stash of methamphetamine in the drawer under the cooker.’
‘Are you joking me?’
‘No. And it’s not a small amount either. It was seven kilos.’
‘Och,
Dougal, that means nothing to me,’ said Munro. ‘For all I know these junkies could get through a kilo a night.’
‘Okay, try it another way. The street value of this stuff is somewhere between fifteen and twenty grand a kilo.’
‘Twenty grand a kilo?’ said Munro, his eyes wide with astonishment, ‘Jumping Jehoshaphat! How easy is it to make this junk, Dougal? Do you think we’ve an opportunity now that Buchanan’s out of the way?’
‘Might be a conflict of interest there, boss,’ said Dougal with a smirk. ‘I’m afraid there’s some bad news too.’
‘Bad?’ said West, ‘What could possibly be bad?’
‘The Hordaland Police; they’re submitting a formal request to have Carducci extradited.’
‘You what?’ said West. ‘How? Why?’
‘Suspicion of drug trafficking, miss. They want Tomek Dubrowski, too.’
‘Well they’re too late so far as Dubrowski’s concerned,’ said Munro. ‘They can have him once he’s served his sentence and as for Remo Carducci, don’t you worry about him, laddie. It’ll be days before that request gets to the Crown Office and even longer before they issue a warrant. We’ll have him by then, trust me.’
‘We should go,’ said West. ‘Heather Buchanan’s waiting and I’m starving.’
‘Nothing new there, then,’ said Munro. ‘Dougal, we’ve no time to look at the hair salon, you go. Give it a thorough once over, you’re looking for anything to do with Remus Trading, okay?’
Chapter 19
With her coat buttoned to the neck, a shopping trolley by her side and her face filled with frustration, Heather Buchanan, looking to all intents and purposes as though she’d missed the last bus home, raised her eyes to the heavens and breathed a sigh of relief as Munro’s antiquated Peugeot rolled to a halt behind the Carrera.
‘Och, Inspector, thank goodness you’re here,’ she said as he’d barely stepped from the car, ‘I feel such a fool. What must you think of me?’
‘It’s no big deal, Heather, honestly. I’ve done it myself.’
‘I only noticed when I got back from the shops. I must have left them on the kitchen table when I gathered up my purse and my shopping list.’
‘So you came all the way here?’ said West. ‘Bet you could do with a sit-down.’
‘I’ll not relax until I’m home, Sergeant. Remo and Anita keep a spare set, you see, so I came to get them but he’s not answering the door.’
‘Well he’s probably away getting a few things for his trip,’ said Munro. ‘You know he’s away to Italy for his father’s birthday?’
‘Aye, but that’s not until tomorrow,’ said Heather. ‘Why’s he not here?’
‘It’s okay, Mrs Buchanan,’ said West, ‘no need to worry. Like the Inspector says, he’s probably just nipped out. Tell you what, why don’t you wait in the car and we’ll see if there’s a way in round the back.’
‘What if there isn’t? What will I do then?’
‘Heather, if we cannae get in here,’ said Munro, ‘we’ll run you home and I’ll see what we can do. I may have to break a window but it’s nothing worth worrying about. Okay?’
‘Aye, okay, Inspector. You know best.’
‘Good. Now if we do get in, where does Mr Carducci keep your keys?’
‘Kitchen drawer, the one by the sink. There’s a wee tag with our name on it.’
* * *
Munro stood for a moment and cast an approving though somewhat envious eye over the back garden – a sprawling affair with a lush lawn surrounded by mature beds and well-stocked planters – and wondered if he had the wherewithal to emulate it at home as West rattled the door before calling excitedly at the sight of a side-opening window slightly ajar.
‘Jimbo!’ she said. ‘Thank God for proper windows, we’d have had it if they’d replaced them with those pig-ugly PVC jobbies. We need a stick or something to lift the stay then we’re in.’
‘Right you are, lassie,’ said Munro as he pulled a bamboo stake from the flower bed and handed it over. ‘I never realised you were so adept at house-breaking.’
‘It’s not a misspent youth, if that’s what you think,’ said West, ‘more a case of having to sneak back in without my parents noticing. Right, off you go.’
‘Me? I’m not the India Rubber Man, Charlie. Besides, I think this is a job for someone marginally younger than myself.’
‘But you’re considerably taller than me, you don’t have to climb over the sink, you could reach round to the door.’
‘Have you no respect for your elders?’ said Munro as he pulled off his jacket. ‘This is tantamount to abuse. Drag that bench over and we’ll give it go.’
Munro climbed on the bench and eased himself through the open window, inadvertently clearing the draining board of several items of crockery as he went and, from West’s point of view, looking like a terrier stuck down a rabbit hole.
‘Well done, Jimbo! she said, as she heard the latch lift on the door, ‘I’m coming in.’
‘Mind the broken glass,’ said Munro as he climbed down, ‘and look for a broom while you’re there, lassie. We dinnae want a claim for compensation coming our way.’
* * *
‘Right, here we are,’ said Munro as he opened the front door, ‘we’ll see you in safe, make sure you’re settled.’
‘Och, there’s really no need, Inspector,’ said Heather as she hung her coat, ‘you’ve done enough already.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ said West, ‘here: keys. Put them somewhere safe.’
‘I will, dear. I’ll make sure of that.’
‘I think you deserve a cuppa now, don’t you? You sit yourself down and we’ll stick the kettle on.’
‘But I’m keeping you from your work, there’s really no need.’
‘Do as the Sergeant says, Heather,’ said Munro, smiling as he emptied the shopping trolley, ‘you’ve had quite a day. Now, will I fetch you a biscuit or something? A slice of bread and butter, perhaps?’
‘No, you’re alright,’ said Heather, staring into space. ‘I’m not hungry just now.’
‘Are you okay?’ said West as she pulled up a chair, ‘you seem a bit… is there someone we can call? Someone who can come over for a while?’
‘No dear. Anita’s away now…’
‘She certainly is,’ said Munro.
‘…so that’s it. There’s no-one else. Only Tommy.’
‘Tommy?’
‘Aye, he’s my brother.’
‘Your brother?’ said Munro. ‘For heaven’s sake Heather, why did you not mention him before? We could’ve called him days ago.’
‘He’s not one for family, Inspector. Or socialising, for that matter.’
‘Aye, but even so, I mean after what you’ve been through, surely…’
‘I did try calling him. Just the once, I admit, but there was no answer.’
‘Will I send for him? It’s no bother.’
Heather thought for a moment and smiled wistfully.
‘Aye, okay,’ she said. ‘I think I’d like that.’
‘Good,’ said Munro. ‘Where does he stay?’
‘Nowhere fancy. He rents a room in Souter Place.’
‘Souter Place?’ said West. ‘That sounds familiar. Who should we ask for?’
‘Tommy. Tommy Dubrowski.’
Chapter 20
‘We came over as weans,’ said Heather. ‘My father, Tommy and myself.’
‘And your mother?’ said West.
‘There were complications. She died shortly after Tommy was born.’
‘I see.’
‘My father raised us as best he could but the poor man really had no interest in anything anymore, especially home, so as soon as we were old enough, he brought us here.’
‘Sorry, Heather,’ said Munro. ‘I’m a wee bit confused here. You were born in Norway but your brother has a Polish surname and yours is typically Scottish.’
‘It’s actually very simple, Inspector,’ said Heather. ‘My mother was No
rwegian and my father was Polish. They met as students in Warsaw. He was studying engineering and she was visiting. After they were married they moved to Norway to be near my mother’s parents. I was named after her: Hedzia. It means heather, or so I’m told. To be honest I’ve never really checked.’
‘That’s such a great story,’ said West, ‘so you came here, what happened next?’
‘Och, I was having a ball. I fitted right in, had the time of my life but it wasnae easy for Tommy, he…’
Heather’s eyes glazed over as she reminisced.
‘…Tommy’s not like the rest of us, you see. He’s better now but he’s never been right in the head, if you know what I mean. He didnae settle in well at all. The other kids poked fun at him because he was a wee bit slow so my father took him back to Poland. To a special school.’
‘And he left you here?’ said West. ‘On your own?’
‘Och, I was almost grown, Sergeant. Sixteen years old. I stayed with a very nice family but only until I was eighteen. Then I got my own place and as luck would have it, I met Angus not long after.’
‘And Tommy?’ said Munro. ‘What happened to Tommy in the meantime?’
‘We lost touch, of course. I had no idea where he was then I received a phone call, from a hospital in Norway.’
‘Norway?’ said West.
‘That’s right, dear. Once Tommy had finished school, they moved back. My father thought the more familiar surroundings might help Tommy adjust. Prepare him for the adult world.’
‘I see. And the hospital?’
‘They’d tracked me down. My father, unbeknownst to me, had passed on so I was his only surviving next of kin. And thank goodness they found me, that’s all I can say. Lord knows what might have become of him otherwise. Naturally, it was only right and proper that I sent for him. I asked Angus to see him right, get him a job and take him under his wing. And he did, God bless him. Looked after him like a brother, he did.’
‘It’s shame his generosity wasnae reciprocated,’ said Munro.
‘I’m not sure I follow, Inspector.’
‘I’m afraid Tommy’s landed himself in a wee bit of bother.’
‘Dearie me, whatever has he done? Is it serious?’
DUPLICITY: A compelling Scottish murder mystery (Detective Inspector Munro murder mysteries Book 4) Page 15