He thought about Lind’s four kids. The kids that might have borne more than a passing resemblance to him, if he hadn’t gone off to the seminary when he did. He thought of his aching loneliness. The punishment he felt driven to inflict upon himself, the anger he struggled to contain, the whisky he self-medicated with.
Suddenly aware that he’d taken too long to reply and that Mhairi was staring at him curiously, he resolutely shook his head.
‘Nope, I don’t consider myself to be father material.’
‘I think you’re wrong about that,’ said Mhairi, staring straight ahead.
‘Let’s take a drive by Fergus Campbell’s house.’ Farrell pulled his mind back to the job. ‘I want to look at the garden across the road where the prowler was reported.’
Within a couple of minutes they pulled up by the row of modest terraced houses in the Edinburgh Road.
Farrell knocked on the door and within seconds it was flung open by a sprightly lady in her sixties.
‘DI Farrell and DS McLeod, here about the prowler you reported.’
‘I’m surprised you’re even bothering with that, given what happened across the road,’ she said, nodding towards the Campbells’ house.
‘There’s an outside possibility it might have been someone watching the Campbells’ comings and goings,’ said Farrell. ‘Equally, it might have been someone looking to break in.’
‘Did the crime prevention officer visit you to give advice on how to make your house more secure?’ asked Mhairi.
‘Yes, he did, I’m all sorted now,’ she said.
‘Pleased to hear it,’ said Farrell. ‘Mind if we take a look in your garden?’
‘Help yourselves,’ she said and retreated back inside. They heard the sound of a bolt and chain being drawn.
Farrell carefully moved around the garden behind the trees bordering the pavement.
‘I reckon this is where he stood,’ he said finally, pointing to a patch of earth behind a rhododendron bush which offered concealment as well as a view of the driveway and upper windows of the Campbells’ house across the road. There was also an empty crisp packet and a couple of cigarette butts that had been pushed into the interior of the bush.
‘We’d best get those fag ends sent for DNA analysis just in case,’ he said, rejoining Mhairi on the path, and sealing them into an evidence bag.
Mhairi caught a glimpse of movement at an upstairs window across the road in Fergus Campbell’s house as they were moving away. She nudged Farrell.
‘Look! Somebody’s in.’
They went up the driveway and rang the bell. A few seconds later it was opened and the nanny, Jane Pearson, stood before them in bare feet and a silver ball gown.
She reddened as she took in their shocked expressions.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, tilting her chin.
‘May we come in?’ said Mhairi.
‘I suppose so.’ She turned her back to Mhairi. ‘Could you sort this zip for me?’
Mhairi duly obliged. To say the dress was a snug fit was an understatement.
Jane Pearson took off up the stairs to change after showing them into the lounge.
When she returned she was wearing her usual attire of jeans and a jumper. She was holding Teddy’s hand and carrying baby Amelia.
‘I’m sorry if we’ve called at an inconvenient time,’ said Mhairi, her eyes alight with curiosity.
Jane Pearson sighed.
‘It’s fine. The Faculty dinner is coming up soon. Fergus has asked me to come along. He can’t face going on his own but doesn’t want people to think he’s hiding away because he’s got something to feel guilty about. I didn’t have a dress, so he asked me to find one from Gina’s wardrobe.’
‘We were wondering if we could have a poke around, get a feel for who Gina was as a person?’
Jane bit her lip, unsure.
‘We didn’t want to bother Fergus with it, but we can give him a call if you’d rather,’ said Farrell, getting out his phone.
‘No, don’t worry, you go ahead. It’s time I was getting this pair off for their nap anyway. Just pull the door shut behind you when you leave.’
Once they were alone, Farrell turned to Mhairi.
‘Interesting.’
‘Trying on his dead wife’s clothes is a bit creepy,’ she said.
‘So is asking the nanny to go with you to a black-tie event before your wife is even buried.’
‘I reckon we ought to keep our eyes on her,’ said Mhairi. ‘She was the last known person to see Gina alive.’
‘Agreed. It’s possible that she killed Gina after Fergus left the house then sailed off with the kids. She could have kept them upstairs then left the house without going through the kitchen.’
‘If only the pathologist could pin down the time of death more precisely. We’re working with too big a window.’
‘Maybe the toxicology results will help,’ said Farrell.
Looking around the various photos of the dead woman, they tried to get a sense of her personality, but she remained an enigma. Even when smiling, her eyes remained cold. Her face was unnaturally smooth. Although glamorous, she seemed distant as though she wasn’t really present, even in the photos with her children. There were no casual photos on display. Every one of them was carefully posed and taken in a photographer’s studio. There was one of her with Mario Lombardo at a black-tie event with some smirking politicians.
‘Mario Lombardo’s connections seem to run pretty deep,’ said Farrell.
The place was spotless with no trace of the violent death that had occurred there.
‘Maybe the two wine glasses are a false trail,’ said Farrell. ‘There were no prints on them. I could see why the killer might wipe his own glass but why hers? Someone could have rinsed the glasses out with wine and poured the rest down the sink. Fergus Campbell could have stumbled on the affair and decided to murder her. He could have been waiting for his moment for months. Framing the man she’d been having the affair with would be the icing on the cake.’
‘What if he and the nanny are in it together?’ asked Mhairi? ‘I’m starting to feel as if there’s a hive of bees buzzing in my head.’
‘You and me both,’ said Farrell. ‘So much for wrapping up this case quickly.’
They went upstairs into the master bedroom. Judging from the contents of the two bedside tables, Fergus and Gina Campbell appeared to have shared a bedroom at least.
Mhairi looked inside the wardrobe and gave a low whistle.
‘Everything in here is designer. God knows where you’d wear any of this stuff in Dumfries.’
They found nothing of particular interest. In contrast to his wife, Fergus’s side of the wardrobe was sparsely populated.
‘I’ll drop you off at the station,’ said Farrell. ‘Can you bring Dave up to date and post a briefing for six? I’ve got somethin to attend to before then.’
As Mhairi hurried into the station, Farrell glanced behind him and did a U-turn. He couldn’t put it off any longer. For Lind’s sake he had to touch base with Laura and find out what was going on. According to the nursing staff she hadn’t been up to see him for a couple of months. Maybe she was depressed? Maybe she was angry at how things had turned out? Maybe she blamed him? He sure as hell blamed himself.
As he parked across the road from the Victorian sandstone house, he noticed with a pang that the front garden lawn had been concreted over. His friend must have been the gardener. The house looked colder now, somehow withdrawn.
Bracing himself he walked up the driveway and rang the bell.
The door opened and he came face to face with Laura.
‘I was wondering when you’d show up,’ she said, sounding less than pleased to see him.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asked.
She kept the door half closed.
‘Now’s not a good time. I’m busy.’
He stared at her.
A muffled voice shouted from inside.
Laura swung the door open with a sigh.
Farrell charged past her in the direction of the voice. He’d know it anywhere.
‘You!’ he snapped, as he burst into the living room. And stood aghast in the open doorway. Everything looked the same as the last time he visited his friend here, except that Byers was now sitting in John’s chair with his stockinged feet on the hearth. ‘How could you do this to him? John’s lying up there in a hospital bed and you’re sitting here as if he’s already dead and buried.’
Byers stood and took a deep breath, clearly struggling to hold on to his temper. Laura walked over and stood by his side, staring at Farrell defiantly.
‘It’s not like that, Frank,’ Byers snapped. ‘To all intents and purposes, John is already gone. You have to accept it. He would be the first one to tell Laura to move on and you know it. I had the greatest of respect for him as a man and as my boss. You’re not going to walk in here and make me feel like shit.’
‘He’s right, Frank. It was all right for you. You took off to Glasgow. I had to stay here. The kids needed stability and routine. I was left on my own with them. If it hadn’t been for Mike, I wouldn’t have coped. He was a kind and supportive friend, which is more than I can say for you. Over time we became closer and it just happened. There’s nothing I can do for John now except put a pillow over his face.’
‘How can you even say that?’ shouted Farrell.
‘If you were any kind of friend to him you would have done it already,’ she shouted back in his face. ‘Now get the hell out of our house. I never want to see you again.’
Farrell felt a surge of fury almost lift him off his feet. He spun around on his heel and strode out of the house.
Chapter 19
Back at the station, Mhairi and Dave Thomson were hard at work in the MCA room ensuring that all the statements and rolling information about the case were collated and inputted into the HOLMES system. Now that the investigation was gathering momentum it was important to make sure they didn’t miss any developing connections.
‘You know,’ Mhairi mused, ‘one of the problems with this case is that the main players are in court most of the time. We can’t get at them to try and trip them up. They see our moves coming before we’ve even thought of them. We need a way to get on the inside and see what’s really going on.’
‘How do you propose we do that?’ asked DC Thomson, rubbing his screen-sore eyes.
‘Well, they already know what Frank and I look like, so we can’t do it. You could, though.’
‘Tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.’
‘Go undercover? Why not?’
‘Are you kidding me? Last time I ended up taking a bullet.’
‘You’re such a drama queen,’ she said, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘I only mean you could be substituted for the regular police officer who works there.’
‘What about a social event? Something I might not need to wear a vest for. The Glasgow Bar are always throwing some shindig or other. I’ve even been invited to a few.’
‘Look at you, all grown up and consorting with the enemy,’ she mocked. ‘Actually, on reflection that’s not a bad idea. If you contact Peter Swift at the fiscal’s office, he’ll be able to send you over a list of events. The nanny did mention there’s some kind of big dinner coming up.’
‘Now that’s more like it,’ he grinned.
Mhairi continued sifting through the statements. She paused as something occurred to her.
Both of the wives had mentioned the significance of an anniversary as a prompt for the solicitors meeting up the night that Gina Campbell was murdered. Something about a young solicitor dying tragically in Jedburgh? They were all such different characters. It seemed odd that it could have welded them together to that extent. Could there have been more to it than that? It was a long shot but she made a note to look into it further. She glanced at her watch. It was nearly 6 p.m. Where the hell was Farrell? He should have been back before now.
She slipped out her phone and pressed speed dial.
‘Frank, it’s nearly six. If you’re planning to take the briefing you’d better get a wiggle on.’
She stood up, her face draining of colour. Hurriedly, she left the room, watched by a curious DC Thomson.
Once safely in the corridor, she hissed.
‘Have you been drinking? You visited Laura? Have you taken leave of your senses? Look, save it! I don’t have time for this … Where are you? Right, I’ll come straight there after the briefing … Stay put!’
She ended the call and slumped against the wall, fatigue rolling over her.
He’d obviously caused some kind of scene at Laura’s house. Before Lind’s catastrophic injury on their last case, Farrell had been one of the most conscientious officers she’d ever come across. Now, without his faith to anchor him, he seemed to be hell-bent on self-destruction. He’d never blown off a briefing in all the time she’d known him.
It was already six. She threw her shoulders back and marched along to the briefing, her heart hammering.
‘Fake it till you make it,’ she muttered as she threw open the door.
As she walked to the front and cleared her throat the room grew silent. She noticed that DS Byers was also absent.
‘DI Farrell has an appointment so asked me to take this briefing. We’ve made some progress today,’ she announced. ‘We’ve ascertained that another member of the local Bar, Gabriel Ferrante, was having an affair with Gina Campbell.’
‘Does he have an alibi?’ asked PC Rosie Green.
‘No. He claims he was going to meet her at her home at 9 p.m., but there was no answer, so he left.’
‘So he could possibly be our killer?’ said DI Moore.
‘Yes,’ said Mhairi. ‘It’s impossible to determine whether his apparent candour is a sign of innocence or part of his defence strategy. Maybe she tried to dump him and he lost control?’
‘I read DI Farrell’s notes from the post-mortem,’ said DC Thomson. ‘Bartle-White reckons that the knife recovered at the scene wasn’t the murder weapon. Could we get a search warrant for Gabriel Ferrante’s house and office based on his admission?’
‘Possibly,’ said Mhairi. ‘There are pros and cons to doing that at this stage. Fergus Campbell claims that he had no idea that his wife was having an affair. His alibi is a bit leaky despite the best efforts of his friends.
‘Another avenue of enquiry should be the nanny, Jane Pearson,’ she went on. ‘She clearly loathed Gina Campbell and was the last person we know of to see the dead woman alive. She also seems very cosy with Fergus, who comes across as a bit of a prickly pear.’
‘They could even be in it together,’ said DI Moore.
‘Exactly,’ said Mhairi. ‘Have you heard anything back from your contacts in organized crime?’ she asked.
‘No, not yet. It’s a bit early for that. I’ll keep pushing, though.’
‘PC Green, how are you getting along as FLO? Do you have any insights to share with the team at present?’
‘To be honest, I’ve been struggling a bit to win their trust. Fergus Campbell shuts down whenever I call on him. I get the feeling he’s just itching to show me the door.’
‘Try and get the nanny, Jane Pearson, on board,’ said Mhairi. ‘I’d frame it as concern about Fergus and the kids. That might appeal to her. Maybe take the little boy a small toy or something.’
‘It seems so … calculating,’ said PC Green, doubt written all over her face.
‘If you feel the role is too challenging we can appoint someone else?’ snapped Mhairi.
‘No, it’s fine, I didn’t mean …’ stuttered PC Green, her cheeks reddening.
‘Good. That’s it for now,’ said Mhairi, already ashamed of her harsh words. She was so worried about Farrell she couldn’t bear to stay at the station a minute longer than she had to. He was skating on thin ice already. The l
ast thing he needed was for Laura to put in a complaint about him harassing her.
She was almost out the door when she felt a light hand tap her on the shoulder from behind. She spun around ready to snap, but it was DI Moore, looking as worried as she felt.
Mhairi stepped to one side with her until the others had left.
‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ said DI Moore. ‘Laura Lind has been seeing DS Byers. In fact, he’s recently moved in with her.’
Mhairi leaned against the wall for support.
She knew that DI Moore, despite her aloof exterior, was as fond of Farrell as she was and could therefore be trusted.
‘He went to visit her this afternoon. I gather it didn’t go well. He phoned me from the pub. I’m heading there now before he digs himself into an even deeper hole,’ said Mhairi.
‘Call me if you need any help,’ said DI Moore. ‘There’s something else you should know, if you don’t already.’
‘What’s that?’
‘He and Laura used to be involved a long time ago. He left her behind when he went off to the seminary.’
‘He told you this?’ asked Mhairi, trying not to show how hurt she was that he had never shared this information with her. This was even worse than she had imagined.
‘No. Laura did, when the twins went missing a few years ago. I never told anyone. But given today’s events, I think you need to know.’
‘Thanks, I’d best go and find him.’
As Mhairi left the station she saw a sight that filled her with dread. Moira Sharkey, tabloid journalist and bane of their lives, was walking into the police station. Her stooped posture and long beaky nose were unmistakable. The vultures were starting to circle. She put her head down and marched along the street.
Chapter 20
Farrell sat slumped at a small table in the corner of the Pig and Whistle. It was tacky with beer and the carpet was scarred with cigarette burns. The pub was a dive and mainly used by those down on their luck and needing to drown their sorrows in a vat of beer. The misery hung in the air like a toxic cloud. Tonight, he felt completely at home. Knocking back the whisky chaser, he smacked his lips together as the fiery amber liquid burned its way to his stomach. His life had been one long struggle to get to this point and what did he have to show for it? A poxy flat in Glasgow. A lost vocation and a career that no longer satisfied him. As if that wasn’t enough, the only two women he’d ever loved were lost to him for ever. He raised his pint and gulped greedily, desperate to silence the scathing voice in his head. Had he taken his lithium this morning? He couldn’t remember and was past caring.
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