‘Names?’
‘Not a chance,’ he scoffed.
‘Look at it this way,’ said Farrell. ‘Whoever you’re worried about is bound to realize we’d haul you in for questioning. If you cooperate we’ll make sure the source can’t be traced back to you. If you don’t …? Well, we’ll just shrug our shoulders and who knows what conclusions they’ll jump to?’
‘Fine, but I don’t know what I can tell you.’ Hamish ran a sweaty hand through his thinning hair.
Farrell switched on the tape.
‘Interview resumed, 14.09. How many times had Aaron Sullivan been in the Pig and Whistle while you were working there?’
‘About half a dozen. He showed me ID. Not my fault if it was fake.’
‘How often did he come in and who did he meet there?’
‘He was in every Friday for the last few weeks. He always met up with Barry McLeish. He’s one of the regulars. I never saw him talking to anyone else.’
‘What about Joe Capaldi?’
‘What about him?’
‘Well, the night that Aaron died, Joe Capaldi was in the pub too.’
‘So were a lot of people. He wasn’t with Aaron and Barry. He was with an old boy. Silver hair, expensive watch. I hadn’t seen him in there before. I do remember one thing: Barry went up to Capaldi and said hello. He blanked him and Barry scuttled away with his tail between his legs. It was bloody hilarious.’
‘You’ve no idea who the man with the silver hair was?’
‘Not a clue. There was something about him that made me want to keep my distance though.’
Farrell terminated the interview and thanked him for coming in.
He walked to the canteen with Mhairi to grab his usual caffeine and Mars Bar combo. Mhairi grabbed a bottle of water and an apple.
‘I need to counteract the effects of Vera’s cooking.’ She patted her stomach.
‘About that,’ said Farrell. ‘DCI Buchanan wants the three of us to save costs by moving into a house owned by the police for the duration of the investigation. We can move in tonight.’
‘What did you tell her?’
‘I said it was fine by me, but if you don’t want to that’s not a problem.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ she said. ‘I suppose it makes sense.’
Why did it feel so awkward then? Farrell quickly moved the conversation back on to the job.
‘I suspect that our elderly gentleman was Mario Lombardo,’ he said as they sat down at a table.
‘I doubt that Joe Capaldi will admit the association.’
‘The Pig and Whistle doesn’t have CCTV either,’ said Farrell.
‘Perhaps, that’s why he chose such a dive. He doesn’t strike me as someone accustomed to roughing it from what DI Moore has said.’
‘This whole thing is going to take way longer than we thought,’ said Mhairi.’ Just as well we brought the moggs with us.’
‘Between the attentions of Vera and my mother, we’ll be lucky if we can persuade them to come back to Glasgow,’ said Farrell. ‘Right, come on. We’d best head to the court and see if we can catch Jack Kerr.’
‘Barry McLeish is still in the wind,’ said Mhairi. ‘I’d have thought they’d have picked him up by now. His mobile phone hasn’t been active either, so we haven’t been able to trace him that way.’
‘He’s either gone to ground or something’s happened to him.’
‘You don’t think he had anything to do with Aaron’s death?’
‘No. He might have an idea who did kill him, though.’
‘And that information could cost him his life,’ said Mhairi.
Chapter 29
They walked into the court and made a beeline for Bob, who was perched behind his wooden desk as though he’d never moved from the last time.
‘Hey,’ said Mhairi. ‘We’re here to catch Jack Kerr. Has he left yet?’
‘Believe it or not, he’s still here.’ He shook his head. ‘That poor laddie, I couldn’t believe it. What’s the world coming to, eh?’
‘God only knows,’ said Mhairi, shaking her head along with him.
Farrell kept quiet. Small talk wasn’t his forte.
‘Court Two, top of the stairs,’ said Bob. ‘The sheriff’s off the Bench at the moment.’
As they pushed open the door at the top of the stairs, the first person they clapped eyes on was Beth Roberts. She was sitting on a chair outside the door hyperventilating, tears spilling from her eyes, as she struggled to breathe. Peter Swift was crouched beside her, his expression furious.
‘Don’t give that bastard the satisfaction,’ he said, squeezing her hand so tightly she tried to pull it away from him.
The court clerk and the defence agents stood in a cluster apart, with concerned expressions.
He looked round and saw Farrell and Mhairi.
Mhairi, who was trained in first aid immediately moved in to help.
Farrell placed an elbow under the fiscal’s arm and helped him to his feet. He looked as if he wanted to resist for a second, but then he moved to one side with Farrell.
‘I’m guessing Sheriff Granger has been up to his tricks,’ said Farrell.
‘He’s an absolute shit!’ hissed the enraged man. ‘I can take his crap and let it wash over me, but he gets inside Beth’s head. Every day I have to watch him torment and undermine her. No wonder the Glasgow Bar ran him out of town. He’s a bully through and through. I don’t know how much more of this Beth can take.’
‘It must be painful to watch,’ said Farrell. ‘Has she thought about moving into another area of law?’
‘She says she’s damned if she’ll let him drive her from a job she used to love.’
Mhairi stood up and Beth too got to her feet with an embarrassed smile. She came over to them.
‘Sorry, a little too hot in there. That, coupled with missing lunch, seems to have triggered a panic attack.’
Brave lass, thought Farrell, smiling warmly at her. He extended his hand and she passed her own small clammy one across for him to shake.
‘DI Farrell. The heat’s a devil at the moment; we’re not used to it.’
They left her with Peter Swift and went in search of Jack Kerr, who emerged from the warren of interview rooms with a client in tow. His client shook his hand and walked through the glass doors and down the stairs.
‘Another happy customer?’ said Farrell.
‘He bloody should be,’ said Kerr. ‘By rights he should be banged up right now. I assume you’ve come back about Aaron. That was my last case. We can go through here, if you like.’
They followed him into a small airless interview room that reeked of body odour and pine air freshener. The heat was stifling, as there were bars on the window, preventing it from being opened.
‘We spoke to your wife earlier,’ said Farrell.
‘How was she?’ he asked, looking guilty.
‘Not good,’ said Mhairi. ‘The press has turned up outside your house and she was struggling a bit.’
‘I know I should have been there,’ he said.
‘Everyone copes with things in their own way,’ said Farrell. ‘We sent an officer round to keep them at bay and she has our FLO, PC Joanne Burns, with her now.’
Jack Kerr sighed. ‘I know she’ll be poking around as well as making cups of tea. But let her, we’ve got nothing to hide.’
‘You haven’t heard then,’ said Farrell.
‘Heard what? I’ve been in a trial all day. My phone’s been off.’
Farrell broke the news to him about the cocaine discovered in Aaron’s school locker then paused to allow him to take it in.
Jack Kerr sat back in his seat and exhaled, as though he was trying to get a grip on himself.
‘Were you aware he was mixed up in anything like this?’ asked Mhairi. ‘Did he have issues with drugs? Sometimes it starts off as just selling enough to manage your own addiction.’
‘No, I had no bloody idea. Is that what got him killed?’
/> ‘It’s something we’re looking into,’ said Farrell. ‘I hate to ask you this but are you a recreational drug user yourself?’
Kerr’s eyes slid away from them and he said nothing.
‘If I ever did something like that, then I would make damn sure that my son would never know,’ he said.
‘If you were ever to do something like that, is it likely you might obtain it from a local source?’
‘No comment,’ he snapped.
‘Were you aware that your son was hanging out with a known criminal, Barry McLeish?’
‘What? Fergus’s client? No, I had no idea. Clearly, I was the shittiest father on the planet as I don’t seem to have been aware of much,’ he said, his voice laced with self-loathing.
‘You can’t blame yourself,’ said Mhairi. ‘Your boy took a wrong turn but would most likely have righted himself, given time. That’s teenagers the world over.’
‘I do blame myself, DS McLeod,’ he said. ‘If I hadn’t been so busy defending other people I might have been a big enough presence in my son’s life to have saved him. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home to my wife.’
Chapter 30
DC Thomson looked up from the computer with an expression of triumph.
‘Guess what?’ he said to Stirling and Byers who had their noses buried in the files.
‘I’m a bit old for guessing games, laddie, spit it out,’ said Stirling, peering at him over his new reading glasses. He’d settled back into the team as if he’d never been away.
‘Joe Capaldi has a criminal past.’
‘Is that right?’ said Byers, perking up.
‘He’s been in and out of gaol for most of his life until his last stretch in Barlinnie that ended eight years ago. Since then, he seems to have kept his nose clean, so far as I can tell. I found him under the Italian version of his name, Giuseppe.’
‘What kinds of crime?’
‘Well, get this, possession with intent to supply features heavily, along with multiple assaults, some to severe injury.’
‘I wonder if Gabriel Ferrante knows?’ mused Stirling.
‘Maybe he was a former client and Ferrante decided to give him a break when he came out the pokey,’ said DC Thomson.
‘He might be a criminal defence solicitor, but it would still be a highly unusual thing to do. It’s possible he doesn’t know. However, I would doubt it,’ said Stirling. ‘Pretty decent thing to do if he is aware, all the same. No wonder Capaldi is loyal to the man.’
‘That degree of crime is a bit bad ass for this neck of the woods,’ said DS Byers. ‘I’m wondering if it’s possible that Mario Lombardo has recruited him to do his dirty work. He could have threatened to blow his cover if he didn’t play ball.’
‘Plus they may have been meeting each other in the Pig and Whistle,’ said Stirling. ‘If that’s the case, it’s likely he’s on the trail of Gina Campbell’s killer. Mario Lombardo isn’t going to let that go unavenged. If he thinks it’s one if his business rivals, I don’t think much of their chances. He might have leaned on Capaldi to be his enforcer.’
‘Any joy on tracing those tattoos, Dave?’ asked Byers.
‘Some progress. I visited the local tattoo shops and they all have it as part of their portfolios. One of them looked proper shifty when I showed him a picture of Aaron and denied doing the tattoo. I reckoned he was lying because the boy was underage. I pushed him and he said the boy produced ID. Apparently Aaron said he didn’t want the tattoo to be visible, as if he was reluctant to have it done. It struck him as odd because half the point for young lads is the bragging rights in showing it off to their mates.’
‘And where’s your tattoo, Davey lad?’ said Stirling, with a wink at Byers.
DC Thomson blushed to the delight of the two older men.
‘Need to know basis only.’ He grinned, tapping the side of his nose.
‘I wonder if the tattoo signifies being part of a gang?’ he asked
‘But how does that explain the transfer on Gina Campbell?’ said Byers.
‘Has she ever been inside?’ asked Stirling.
‘I would doubt that,’ said Byers. ‘I suspect that if she came within a whisper of charges, Daddy would have hired the best lawyers to ensure that she walked. No harm checking it out, though.’
At that moment, Farrell and Mhairi arrived.
‘Great to see you back, Ronnie,’ said Farrell. ‘You’ll be able to whip DC Thomson back into shape in no time.’
‘I’m surprised you recognized him with his new trendy haircut,’ said Mhairi, ruffling Dave Thomson’s hair as he batted at her hands in annoyance. ‘The amount he spends on clothes to go clubbing makes even my eyes water these days.’
PC Rosie Green followed them in.
‘Great to see the team back together.’ She smiled. ‘Just like old times.’
The words hung leaden in the air as everyone froze for a split second then started talking all at once. PC Green looked away.
‘I’m absolutely gagging for something to eat. Rosie, if you come with me down to the canteen, I can tell you a few things I need you to look into that might help us,’ said Mhairi.
‘Grab me a Mars Bar,’ said Farrell, his mouth smiling but his eyes someplace else.
***
As they were heading downstairs Rosie bit her lip.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t think.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Mhairi said. ‘It was a long time ago. You didn’t know him as well as we did. Anyway, no one has a worse case of foot-in-mouth disease than me, so don’t worry.’
Once in the canteen they grabbed two coffees and a table.
‘Is Barry McLeish still on the run?’
‘Either that or someone higher up the food chain has decided he needs to be silenced. Permanently,’ said Mhairi.
‘I don’t know how we’re going to stay on top of all this,’ said PC Green. ‘DI Moore …’
‘Yes?’ said Mhairi, leaning forward.
‘Well, she’s only got back to work recently. She was off work with depression.’
‘I hadn’t realized,’ said Mhairi guiltily. ‘If I’d known I would have come down and seen her.’
‘She didn’t want anyone to know. The official story was that she was on unpaid leave to help look after an elderly relative.’
‘How did you find out?’ asked Mhairi, feeling bad that she had been so wrapped up in her Glasgow bubble that this had got past her.
‘Let’s just say I was in the right place at the right time. I don’t want to say any more than that.’
‘Who else knows?’
‘Only DS Byers. He smelled a rat and went round to see her. I thought you three should know as you were all so close before. I thought maybe DI Farrell could help her.’
Chance would be a fine thing, Mhairi thought. He can barely take care of himself at the moment.
‘I really don’t think she’s doing all that well. You guys coming down. Well it’s stirred everything up again. And now with this increased workload. Well, I’m worried …’
Mhairi patted her hand.
‘I’m so glad you told me. Leave it with me and I’ll speak to DI Farrell. I’ll not let on it was you who told me.’
‘Phew, I’ve been nerving myself to have this conversation for ages.’
‘And now I need you to do something for me. Can you go up to Tech and sit on someone up there till they manage to get into Aaron’s social media accounts and messages? We’re waiting on his mobile phone records as well. When we get a picture of who he was talking to or interacting with things should become clearer.’
‘On it,’ PC Green said, and exited the canteen looking a lot brighter.
Mhairi’s face darkened as she allowed her coffee to get cold. Farrell and DI Moore were both in trouble and it was down to her to sort things before they blew apart. Oh, and solve a couple of murders while she was at it.
‘No, biggie,’ she sighed, leaving her coffee and
trailing back upstairs.
Her phone pinged. It was Sandy Gillespie, the young pathologist, inviting her out for a drink. Automatically, she typed a polite refusal. It was not the first time he had asked. Then she thought about his kind eyes and smiling face and hesitated. It would be good to have a friendly drink and a few laughs for light relief. Before she could change her mind she texted back to meet him later that night. What harm could it do? She thought about where he put his hands for a living and shuddered. She hoped he was a big believer in soap and water.
Chapter 31
The following day, Farrell sat across from Joe Capaldi in Ferrante’s legal office, trying to obtain a measure of the man. He might as well have been staring at a rock. Capaldi’s eyes were blank and his meaty arms were folded across the breast of his cheap shiny suit. His boss had already left for court so there was no one to disturb them.
‘We appreciate you agreeing to assist us with our enquiries,’ said Farrell.
‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, officer. I can’t imagine how you think I might assist you.’
‘We know about your criminal record,’ said Farrell, eyeballing him.
‘Is that so?’ said Capaldi, staring at him with barely concealed contempt. ‘Then you also know that I served my time.’
‘Did you disclose your past to your boss, Gabriel Ferrante?’ asked Mhairi.
Capaldi hesitated for a split second as if debating internally with himself how to play this.
‘Yes, I did. When I applied for the job I hoped he might take a chance on me anyway, what with him being a defence lawyer. Seems only fair,’ he said with a glint of humour.
‘Mr Ferrante had set up shop in a rough area of Glasgow. No point having a wee lassie on reception when you’ve got some nutter high on crack trying to muscle his way in. I suppose you could say I started as a bit of a bouncer and my job continued to evolve.’
‘When did you move down here?’ asked Farrell.
‘About a year ago.’
‘Why would your boss shut up shop and move from the fast lane down to Sleepy Hollow here?’ asked Mhairi.
Capaldi shrugged.
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