He grinned at her.
‘Someone’s getting snappy. All right, if it’ll keep you off my back I’ll have a sausage, egg and tattie scone roll.’
They parked in front of the river, and Farrell wound down the windows before they baked to death. Mhairi marched over to the takeaway. She came back grasping rolls and coffees and they munched in silence for a few minutes enjoying the view of the water tumbling across the caul.
After a discreet burp, Mhairi scrunched up her paper and shoved it under her seat.
Farrell rolled his eyes. Her mess was like a contagion infecting every surface it came into contact with.
‘Kind of a weird set up,’ she said.
‘He looked mighty cosy on that sofa when we arrived. They could be in it together, I suppose. She certainly carries a torch for him.’
‘If the nanny’s to be believed it sounds like Gina Campbell was fairly abusive towards her husband,’ said Farrell.
‘Could he have snapped?’
‘It’s possible,’ he said.
Chapter 15
DI Moore regarded the irate man pacing in front of her desk with some sympathy, despite his coming at her like a bull at a gate. Mario Lombardo might be a gangster with a thin veneer of respectability plastered over the cracks, but right now he was a grieving father and she was prepared to cut him some slack. It had probably cost him dearly to even come in and see her. He’d made no secret of his hatred and distrust of the police.
‘Mr Lombardo, I can’t even begin to imagine how you are feeling. I want you to know that we’ll do everything in our power to catch your daughter’s killer. Please, won’t you sit down?’
‘If it turns out to be that worthless bastard she married, I’ll pull him apart with my bare hands,’ he snapped, but he did reluctantly sit down. He raised the coffee cup to his mouth, his hand shaking slightly.
‘He has an alibi.’
‘Pull the other one. Anyone can buy an alibi,’ he said.
‘There are a number of lines of enquiry. I’ve been assigned to investigate one in particular.’
He leaned forward, pugnacious jaw at variance with tailored suit.
‘Spit it out then.’
‘The possibility that your daughter’s death might be related to your business dealings.’
Lombardo sat back in his seat and exhaled like a deflating balloon.
‘Like I said, we plan to leave no stone unturned. So tell me, anyone you’ve had a beef with in say the last three years? In any of your businesses.’ She paused. ‘Both legitimate and illegitimate.’
‘All of my businesses are legitimate,’ he said with narrowed eyes.
‘Our focus isn’t your business activities, but whether anything at all might have provided a motive for your daughter’s murder.’
Mario Lombardo sighed.
‘I operate in a tough world, DI Moore. A number of my associates can be overzealous when they feel they have been wronged. However, most would balk at murdering my only child.’
‘And if anything occurs to you?’
‘I will, of course, bring it directly to your attention,’ he said.
‘So you’ve received no threats recently?’
‘I would worry if I didn’t receive threats. Success breeds envy from weak-minded individuals.’
‘But …’
‘Look, I hear what you’re saying, DI Moore. And believe me, I’m grateful.’
He stood up to leave and shook her hand.
‘You’ll keep me posted.’
‘A Family Liaison Officer has been assigned to the case.’
‘That’s not what I asked.’
As she looked into his flinty grey eyes, DI Moore saw beyond the predatory shark to the grieving father within.
‘I’ll do what I can,’ she assured him.
‘Consider me in your debt,’ he replied, releasing her hand.
She watched him leave then sank back into her seat. Had she really just received an IOU from a member of the Sicilian Mafia? She hoped she’d never have need of it. Wearily, she tucked a few wisps of hair that had escaped her severe bun behind her ears. She felt simultaneously exhausted and buzzing from adrenalin.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about their station being invaded by the MIT team. While it was good to see Frank, Mhairi and Dave again it was also a reminder of their last case. Memories that she had fought hard to repress were now trying to bubble to the surface. Letting her guard down back then had been the biggest mistake of her life never mind her career.
Seeing the time, she realized she should eat something. She opened her desk and took out a packet of edamame beans. Unexpectedly she felt a wave of nausea. Jumping to her feet she threw open her door and rushed along the corridor to the toilets, where she retched painfully. Taking in her skeletal frame beneath the harsh lighting she noticed for the first time how thin she had become. She slid her eyes away from her reflection, feeling slightly ashamed though not entirely sure why. Thank goodness no one had heard her.
Once safely back in her room, she bent her head to her work trawling through the web for information on Mario Lombardo’s legitimate business interests. She doubted she would find anything much there as the last thing he wanted was to do anything to crack his veneer of respectability. She would need to sink deeper into his world. With a sigh she picked up the phone to a contact in organized crime. He owed her one and she had no hesitation in cashing in this particular chip.
Chapter 16
Farrell and Mhairi paused next to a gleaming brass plate with ‘Gabriel Ferrante’ written on it, outside a small office near the court.
‘This isn’t going to be an easy conversation,’ Farrell said.
‘Being around all these lawyers is making me twitchy,’ said Mhairi. ‘Normally, we’re the ones with the upper hand.’
‘They don’t come with handcuffs as standard,’ he said, as they climbed the steep stairs to the door marked ‘Reception’.
A thickset burly man, sitting behind the desk, welcomed them with a decidedly unfriendly look.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked, looking as though his first impulse had been to push them back down the stairs. Farrell could only guess that he had them pegged as coppers, but why should that bother him?
‘DI Farrell and DS McLeod,’ he said stepping forward, hand outstretched, leaving the other man no option but to meet it with his own rough mitt.
‘And you are?’ he asked, as no introduction was forthcoming.
‘Joe Capaldi. I’m afraid you’ve just missed him,’ he said with a smile.
Gabriel Ferrante chose that moment to walk through from his office.
‘Oh.’ The smile died. ‘He must have slipped in without me noticing him,’ he muttered.
Gabriel Ferrante grinned at them and walked over. He was a ruggedly handsome man who looked to be in his late forties with more than a little charisma about him. The jagged scar down one side of his face seemed to add to rather than detract from his charm.
‘Don’t mind Joe here, officers. He’s paid to be my gatekeeper. When you’re in court as much as I am, office time to catch up on your paperwork is a precious commodity. How can I help?’
‘We’re here to ask you some questions in relation to the murder of Gina Campbell,’ said Farrell.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘Won’t you come this way? Joe, could you bring us coffee?’
‘Sure thing, boss,’ he replied, looking like butter wouldn’t melt.
Farrell was intrigued. His gut was telling him there was something a little off about this set-up.
They sat in two chairs in front of the cheap plywood desk. It was strewn with files and correspondence. This was the office of a grafter. There were no frills.
Coffee arrived in the shape of three mugs and a packet of own-brand gingernuts. No expense spared, thought Farrell, glancing at the tough-looking lawyer across the desk.
‘I want to be straight with you, Mr Ferrante. It has come to our attention that you may have
been having an affair with Gina Campbell.’
Ferrante sat back in his chair and looked at them, his gaze inscrutable.
‘Who else knows?’ he eventually asked.
‘So, you admit it?’
Ferrante sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
‘Yes, I admit it. I have no desire to obstruct your inquiry. I’m as keen to find the bastard who murdered her as you are. I’ll ask you again. Who knows?’
‘We’re not at liberty to say,’ said Mhairi. ‘When did your relationship start?’
‘The very first night that we met. A year from the date that she was killed.’
‘When was the last time you saw her?’ asked Farrell.
‘It should have been that night. She’d arranged for her kids to stay with their nanny and we were to celebrate together. I went around there as planned at around 9 p.m. The door was locked and the lights were off. It looked like there was nobody in, so I gave up and went home.’
‘So you were at the locus close to the time she was murdered,’ Farrell said.
‘Yes. Only one problem, DI Farrell. I didn’t do it.’
‘Did you see anyone else in the vicinity?’ asked Mhairi.
‘No. My focus was on not being seen myself. I never thought for a second something had happened to her. I assumed her husband had come home unexpectedly and they’d gone out.’
‘Is it possible that her husband could have got wind of your affair?’ asked Farrell.
‘No. I’m sure of it. I’d been sat beside him in court all day. Look, I’m not proud of sleeping with another man’s wife. I begged her to leave him, but she was having none of it.’
‘So why did you?’ said Farrell bluntly.
‘What can I say? We had a connection. What else is there? When I heard she’d been killed, I wanted to come forward, but what good would it have done? Fergus is a bit of a cold fish but he’s a decent bloke. I didn’t want to hurt him needlessly.’
‘Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts that night?’ asked Mhairi.
‘No. I went straight home. Do with that what you will.’
Farrell sat back in his chair and stared at him. Ferrante stared right back.
Farrell got to his feet, closely followed by Mhairi.
‘I appreciate you being so candid. I’ll send an officer down to take your statement. Fergus Campbell is going to find out about you and his wife, but he won’t hear it from us.’
‘Thank you, I appreciate that,’ said Ferrante, escorting them from his office.
Once out in the warm May sun, Farrell and Mhairi grabbed some coffee from a deli in Irish Street and walked back to the car.
‘That was almost too easy,’ said Farrell, taking a long slug of coffee.
‘He offered it up to us on a plate.’
‘I found him hard to read,’ said Farrell.
‘He’s very charming, but there’s something about him … I can’t quite put my finger on it,’ said Mhairi.
‘I know what you mean. He’s not your bog-standard lawyer. He’s got a fair bit of life experience behind him, I’d wager.’
‘He’s bound to know we’d be coming for him. His openness could have been a strategy to deflect suspicion. Although, weirdly, I liked him,’ said Mhairi.
Farrell looked at her.
‘Not like that. I just thought he seemed like a decent bloke. And yes, before you say it, I know that doesn’t necessarily bode well.’ She glared.
It was true, Mhairi didn’t have the best taste in men. After what he hoped was a tactful silence, Farrell changed the subject.
‘Joe Capaldi’s a bit of an odd choice as office manager.’
‘You can say that again. He comes across like a bouncer in a seedy nightclub,’ said Mhairi. ‘I wonder how Gabriel Ferrante got that scar?’
‘He may have been glassed at some point.’
‘Grateful client?’
‘Someone wasn’t happy with him that’s for sure.’
Chapter 17
Their next port of call was Jack Kerr’s house, a former council house in Locharbriggs. The paintwork was flaking off the windows. He clearly wasn’t as well off as his two friends. As they walked up the path, the door burst open and a lanky youth with pockmarked skin and a murderous expression stormed past them. A woman appeared on the doorstep bellowing after him.
‘Get back in here this minute, Aaron!’
The youth ignored her and headed off down the street, shrugging up his black hoody so that it covered his face, shoulders hunched in the manner of teenage boys everywhere.
The woman, still looking flustered, attempted to rally.
‘Can I help you?’
‘DI Farrell and DS McLeod. We’re investigating the murder of Gina Campbell and wonder if we might ask you a few questions.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said, opening the door wide.
‘Please excuse the mess, it looks like a bombsite. Aaron gets upset sometimes, tears through the place like a hurricane,’ she said with a weak grin. ‘He’s had a rough time. We’re hoping we can turn things around.’
‘It’s a difficult age,’ said Mhairi.
‘Is he your only child?’ asked Farrell.
‘We foster him. Have done for the last five years. We’ve had a stream of boys through the house, but felt Aaron would do better if he had our whole attention. We’re in the process of adopting him.’
‘Do you work as well?’ asked Mhairi, sympathetically.
‘Yes, I’m a midwife,’ she replied, pasting on a bright smile even though she was clearly struggling.
‘I still can’t believe what happened to Gina. You don’t expect it to happen to someone you know.’
‘Murder?’ said Mhairi.
‘Yes! It’s so shocking. So out there.’
‘I understand that your husband is friendly with Gina’s husband.’
‘He’s been tight with Fergus and Max for years.’
‘They seem very different,’ said Mhairi.
‘Nobody gets it. I’m not even sure that I do. All I know is that ever since that poor girl burned to death in Jedburgh, they’ve been inseparable. It was so awful and they were all so young that it seemed to weld them together.’
‘Peter Swift was her fiancé at the time, but he doesn’t tend to hang out with them as much?’ said Mhairi.
‘He’s a great guy and they get on really well but, given that he’s a fiscal and they’re on opposite sides of the court, it’s probably easier if they’re not joined at the hip. I’m so glad that he’s with Beth now. She’s a lovely girl.’
‘What can you tell us about Gina Campbell?’ asked Farrell.
‘She wasn’t terribly popular among the legal wives. At first I was under the impression she was really snooty, thought she was better than everyone else. Fergus himself is a bit of a toff in case you haven’t noticed. However, in the last few months I had come to quite like her. We got drunk together one night after we snuck off from some boring Faculty cocktail party. She’d a wicked sense of humour. She cracked me up.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘That was a good night. It’s how I’m going to remember her.’
‘How did she get along with Fergus?’ asked Mhairi.
‘Well, I’m sure there was plenty of drama. Gina was highly combustible. Fergus seemed to take it all in his stride though. He worshipped her.’
‘I’m sure that you’re aware of the rumours,’ said Farrell.
Sarah dropped her eyes.
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I didn’t know who but she hinted at it that night. I mentioned it to Jack, but he decided not to say anything to Fergus in the hope it would blow over. If he finds out now in such devastating circumstances it’ll destroy him.’
‘What can you tell us about the night of the murder?’
‘Very little, really. I was at home with the kids and Jack stayed the night with Max. I only found out what had happened the morning after when Fergus phoned at the back of seven.’
Farrell glanced out of th
e front window and saw Aaron slouching along the pavement with an older lad who looked vaguely familiar. They parted company at the gate and a minute later the front door opened and heavy feet thudded up the stairs followed by the bang of a door.
‘The prodigal returns,’ said Mhairi with a grin.
Sarah laughed.
‘Do you happen to know the name of that lad he was with?’ asked Farrell.
‘I’m afraid not. Why? Should I be worried?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘I’m always on at him to invite his friends back, but he never does.’
‘This phase will pass,’ said Mhairi.
‘I know. My main concern is trying to keep him safe until the clouds lift. Teenage boys are such a worry. Jack was a product of the care system himself. Bounced around from pillar to post. Then he got lucky with his last foster parents. He ended up with a scholarship to one of the best private schools in Scotland, Morrington Academy. He wants to do the same for other kids, but Aaron sure isn’t making it easy. His behaviour is getting worse, not better. I don’t understand it.’
‘He’s probably testing your commitment to him with the adoption looming,’ said Mhairi.
‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right,’ Sarah said with a quick smile as she showed them out to the accompaniment of loud music from upstairs.
Chapter 18
‘That woman is a saint,’ said Mhairi, as they were driving away. ‘Rather her than me.’
‘Don’t you want kids one day?’ asked Farrell, slightly warily, as it was something they had never discussed before.
Mhairi paused a little before answering.
‘I used to want them. With my parents losing my brother, the way they did, I wanted nothing more than to present them with a grandchild. Now, though, I just don’t know. Most of the men I’ve met have turned out to be complete bastards. I reckon some part of me has given up on the idea.’
‘You could always go it alone,’ said Farrell, aware that he was wading dangerously out of his depth.
Mhairi snorted.
‘Frank Farrell, you never cease to surprise me,’ she grinned. ‘What about you? There’s nothing stopping you either.’
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