Beth bit her lip and looked away.
‘The next thing I knew I was waking up in one of the interview rooms by myself. I felt drunk and woozy. I couldn’t remember what had happened but my blouse was incorrectly buttoned up and I later discovered my underwear was a little torn. Although I couldn’t remember him touching me, I had a really strong feeling it had been him. I think he left me those clues deliberately. The bastard wanted me to know.’
‘Did you tell anyone?’ asked Mhairi.
‘No. How could I? He was a sheriff. Who would have believed me? I hardly believed it myself. I … didn’t want to believe it. My fiancé would have been so angry. He’d have confronted him and maybe lost his job. It was my word against his.’
‘That must have been incredibly difficult to deal with,’ said Mhairi, passing across a box of tissues.
‘By the time I discovered his reputation for bullying and sexual harassment, it was already too late to say anything. By then he’d eroded my confidence to the extent I felt powerless to stand up to him. For the last year I’ve been in a really dark place. It has taken its toll on me both personally and professionally.’
Mhairi felt sick. Sheriff Granger had been a monster. His treatment of Beth Roberts had been criminal. Had she snapped and murdered him? She would have had every reason to do so.
The young solicitor had finally unburdened herself, but in doing so, she had made herself their number one suspect.
‘Interview suspended,’ said DI Moore. ‘Beth, I’m stopping the interview to enable you to arrange representation. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through but unfortunately I’m going to have to formally detain you for questioning in relation to the murder of Sheriff Robert Granger.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
‘You’re a solicitor, you know how this works,’ said DI Moore. ‘I want you to have the opportunity to obtain legal advice before we proceed further. At this stage you are under caution, is that clear?’
‘Yes,’ she sniffed.
‘I’ll arrange for phone access,’ continued DI Moore. ‘Someone will also be in to see if you require any refreshments.’
Mhairi squeezed her shoulder as they left.
‘If she did do it, I hope she bloody gets away with it,’ she said in a low voice as they walked away together.
Chapter 64
DI Moore pulled into the kerb outside Mario Lombardo’s modern bungalow. The luxury house was set in the middle of a large plot with high brick walls. There were coils of barbed wire around the top. Between the bars of the heavy electronic gates she could see the house was surrounded by a vast expanse of manicured lawns. There were no trees or shrubs. Nothing for any intruder to hide behind. She walked up to the gate and pressed the buzzer. Immediately she heard a low hum as the camera swivelled towards her. The gates swung open. She hoped she didn’t have to leave in a hurry as it would no doubt be just as hard to get out as it had been to get in.
It had been a long tiring day and she hadn’t manged to have lunch, which was probably why she was feeling a little lightheaded. The smell of something home-cooked wafted towards her from a window and her mouth began to water. She stepped up and rang the bell. Mario Lombardo came to the door with a dishtowel over his shoulder. She had clearly interrupted him in the preparation of his evening meal. Strains of opera drifted out into the garden.
‘DI Moore. How may I help you?’ he said with old-school courtesy.
‘I’d like to talk to you about your daughter’s investigation,’ she said. ‘But if you’re busy, I can come back another time.’
‘Please, come in. We can talk in the kitchen,’ he ushered her through, ‘but only if you join me for a bowl of pasta. Since my wife passed, I hate to eat alone.’
DI Moore hesitated for a second then smiled her assent.
‘You’ve twisted my arm.’
They sat at a rustic pine table with two bowls of pasta and some freshly sliced bread and olive oil. She suddenly felt ravenous.
He poured himself a small glass of red wine and offered the bottle to her, but she declined and filled her glass from the water jug.
‘We eat first and then we talk. Agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ she said, tucking in with unaccustomed gusto. She found this aspect of him hard to reconcile with the idea of him as an extortionist driving people to despair with his cruel manipulation of their frailties. However, if the last couple of years had taught her anything it was that appearances can be deceptive. She resolved to remain on her guard.
The simple but delicious meal was soon over and after she’d helped him clear away the dishes he brought two espressos and some biscotti to the table.
‘Thank you for indulging the whim of an old man. Now, how do you say? Down to brass tacks.’
She chose her words carefully.
‘Has it occurred to you that your daughter’s murder might have been directly linked to one of your … er … business assets.’ She knew if she called them victims of blackmail he would snap shut like a clam.
He narrowed his eyes and tilted his chair back, staring at her.
‘One of my … assets … rather than one of my competitors?’
‘Yes. We know that your daughter was involved in your business dealings. She may have even interfaced directly with one of these … assets.’
‘You want to know who these assets are?’
She could feel the hair on the back of her neck prickle and a droplet of sweat head down her back. So far, she was groping about in the dark. Careful not to trigger him on the one hand but also trying to give the impression they perhaps knew more about his operation than he had realized.
‘We’re conducting a murder enquiry. If you’re able to provide particulars of these … assets … then we would have the means to properly investigate and bring your daughter’s killer to justice.’
‘Do you have children, DI Moore?’
‘No,’ she said.
‘They can hurt you in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.’
‘Were you and Gina close?’
‘We used to be until she married that lily-livered toff. We stopped working together after that. She thought she was a cut above her old father. Looked at me like I was the dirt under her shoe at times.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said DI Moore. ‘That must have been difficult. Even so, I’m sure you want the person responsible for her death to be brought to justice?’
‘Oh, I do,’ he said darkly, ‘one way or another, DI Moore. Bear with me a moment while I make my Christmas card list …’
‘But, it’s only May,’ she protested, wondering if he’d had more wine than she thought.
He pulled a pad of paper towards him, wrote a few names down, ripped off the sheet and carefully placed it before her. Immediately, she twigged and committed them to memory.
‘These assets … as you so diplomatically refer to them, DI Moore, do not deserve any consideration. If they were not shoddy … or defective … in some way, they would be of no use to me.’
‘You heard that Sheriff Robert Granger was murdered?’
‘I would like to take credit for that one. However, I was otherwise engaged. Father Jim Murray at St Margaret’s will confirm that I stayed the night in Edinburgh along with members of St Margaret’s social club.’
‘Thank you, Mr Lombardo, I’ll pay the good priest a visit.’ Her face clouded. ‘The next topic for discussion is rather more … difficult.’
‘Go on,’ he gestured, his expression inscrutable.
‘Aaron … died trying to protect his soon-to-be adoptive father, Jack Kerr, as I’m sure that you’re aware.’
‘I’ve heard talk. His father is a weak apology for a man. He didn’t deserve such a son.’
‘So …’ DI Moore said, feeling her way delicately.
‘You think I had something to do with that boy’s death?’ he exploded, leaping to his feet.
DI Moore leapt to her feet also and they stood staring at each other.
‘I would NEVER hurt a child for the sins of its father. NEVER! Whatever you think you may have on me, you are absolutely wrong about this.’
‘If that is indeed the case then do you have any other information you are prepared to share with me in relation to these deaths?’
Lombardo exhaled in frustration.
‘I’ve been leaning on all of my contacts but I’ve heard nothing.’
‘If anything else occurs to you, please get in touch. Your daughter was murdered. Her two children will grow up without their mother. That matters to me.’
He gave her a sad smile.
‘I know it does. I can assure you that I will not rest until justice has been done, one way or another,’ he said, the threat in his words underlined by an uncompromising stare.
DI Moore left the way she had come, feeling unmistakeably relieved as the gates opened on her approach. She drove away smoothly but pulled in to the side of the road once she was out of sight, her heart pounding. The forcefulness of Mario Lombardo’s personality had reminded her of the man she had spent the last two years trying to forget. He was getting inside her head and she wasn’t sure she could trust her judgement any more. Had she just broken bread with a cold-hearted killer or was he telling the truth?
Chapter 65
Mhairi knocked lightly on Farrell’s door and popped her head round.
‘Got a minute?’
‘Sure, what’s up?’
‘Joe Capaldi isn’t our fall guy for Emily Drummond, the girl in Granger’s year who was murdered at Morrington Academy. He was remanded in custody at the time.’
‘Another dead end,’ said Farrell.
DI Moore entered. Normally impeccably attired, Mhairi noticed a small splash of tomato sauce on her pristine white blouse. At least she’s had something to eat, she thought.
‘Good, I hoped I’d catch the pair of you before you headed off for the night,’ she said, taking a seat beside Mhairi.
‘I’ve just come from Mario Lombardo’s house.’
‘You went on your own?’ said Farrell, looking concerned.
‘Yes, I made a judgement call,’ she said, flushing in annoyance. ‘I’m not a complete idiot.’
‘No one would ever think that,’ said Farrell.
But your judgement has been impaired before, thought Mhairi, striving to keep her expression neutral.
‘I had developed some rapport with him after the murder of his daughter. I felt it was more likely he would open up to me if I went alone.’
‘And did he?’ asked Farrell.
‘He’s definitely in the extortion business, though we rather tiptoed around it. I formed the impression that he considers his targets are fair game.’
‘A regular knight in shining armour,’ muttered Mhairi earning herself a cold look from DI Moore.
Moore handed a hastily scrawled list of names over to Farrell.
‘These are the people who he’s been extorting money from,’ she said.
‘He told you this?’ asked Farrell.
‘Yes, but in a way that didn’t constitute an admission. The one thing I’m fairly sure of, however, is that he didn’t murder Aaron Sullivan or have him killed. He seemed genuinely outraged at the very idea.’
‘He could be lying,’ said Mhairi.
‘I appreciate that, but I don’t think that he is.’
‘So,’ said Farrell, hurriedly, ‘there’s a few names on this list: Sheriff Robert Granger, Jack Kerr, Jane Pearson, Joe Capaldi and Gabriel Ferrante. I imagine that there are many other people he hasn’t mentioned, but broadly speaking, these are the most likely candidates.’
‘Oh, and he did mention as far as the murder of Sheriff Granger is concerned, your friend, Father Jim Murray, can provide him with an alibi.’
‘Did he now?’ said Farrell.
‘Gabriel Ferrante?’ said Mhairi. ‘What’s he got on him?’
‘Possibly extorting hush money for not putting it about that he’s got a known felon running his law practice,’ said Farrell.
‘I gather that Gina used to work with him, but that tapered off when she got together with Fergus Campbell. Her father isn’t his biggest fan. I think he blames him for turning Gina against him.’
‘Do we think that Gabriel Ferrante could have killed Gina Campbell in cold blood, though?’ asked Mhairi. ‘The murder was definitely premeditated.’
‘Honestly?’ said Farrell. ‘If someone had crossed the line by blackmailing him, I reckon he’s got it in him to do just about anything. Gina may have let slip to him about being involved in her father’s business and he might have felt betrayed. People have died for less.’
‘I remember the look in his eyes that day when he was punching Fergus Campbell,’ said Mhairi. ‘It was like he didn’t even know what he was doing.’
‘Anyway, he’s fetched up on that list so we need to do some digging around in his past, see what we can find out,’ said Farrell.
‘I’ll do it,’ Mhairi volunteered, secretly hoping there was nothing to find.
Chapter 66
It was already nearly seven by the time Farrell and Mhairi pulled up outside Jack and Sarah Kerr’s house at Locharbriggs.
‘I am so not wanting to have this conversation,’ sighed Mhairi, getting out of the car. ‘Jack Kerr was tortured enough before all this. What we have to say will most likely destroy him.’
As they walked up the path to the front door they could hear the sound of yelling.
‘That doesn’t bode well,’ said Farrell.
He rang the doorbell. Angry footsteps approached and the door was flung back wide against its hinges. Sarah Kerr stood there, red-faced and with the glint of battle in her eyes.
‘Yes?’
‘We need to speak to you both about what happened to Aaron,’ said Farrell.
‘Of course,’ she said, making an effort to calm down. ‘Please, come in.’
She showed them through into the living room and invited them to sit on the sofa. Jack Kerr took a slug from the bottle of beer he was drinking as if to fortify himself and sat opposite them beside his wife.
‘Aaron’s toxicology screen came back negative. It appears that he wasn’t using drugs himself,’ said Farrell.
‘Then how on earth did he get mixed up with all that stuff?’ asked Sarah.
‘I’m afraid that this is going to be hard to hear,’ Farrell said, addressing his comment to Jack Kerr.
‘Aaron discovered that you were in hock to the person feeding your drug addiction and got in touch to see if he could pay off some of your debt by working for him.’
Jack jumped to his feet, his eyes frantic.
‘No! That can’t possibly be right. I don’t believe you!’
‘Is this really what got Aaron killed?’ asked Sarah.
‘We can’t say yet. We’re working on a number of theories.’
She stood up and slapped her husband hard across the face.
‘You bastard! she hissed. ‘You DID this. You’d better go pack a bag because I want you the hell out of here in five minutes before I KILL you myself!’
Jack Kerr went as if to speak and then shook his head and looked at Farrell. It was too late. He left the room, his tread heavy on the stairs.
Sarah broke down in tears. Mhairi gestured to Farrell to go and make her a cup of tea.
‘We were meant to be the ones who rescued him,’ she sobbed. ‘I can’t believe he tried to take all of that on his shoulders. My poor boy. How could Jack do this to us?’
Farrell came back through and handed her a cup.
‘I need to have a quick word with your husband before we go. Is it all right if I nip upstairs?’
‘Knock yourself out,’ she said. ‘But tell him to get a move on. I want him gone.’
***
Farrell ran upstairs and knocked lightly on the open door.
Jack Kerr was throwing clothes into a leather holdall on the bed, tears running silently
down his face.
‘What? Haven’t you done enough?’
‘It’s about Colette Currie,’ he said.
Kerr froze.
‘I need to know what you’re hiding. We believe she may have been murdered.’
‘But the fire … it was an accident,’ he said.
‘We’re looking at whether the ten-year anniversary of Colette Currie’s death triggered her killer, who may hold the three of you responsible in some way for what happened to her.’
‘And if that’s the case it means that I won’t be the one responsible for Aaron’s death?’
‘Yes,’ said Farrell.
Kerr sighed heavily and sat down on the bed.
‘Fine. I liked Colette. We were good friends. She was always up for a laugh but not when her fiancé was around. He was a bit strait-laced. I suppose she dampened herself down for him. Anyway, that night, we got absolutely smashed. You’ve got to remember we were only in our mid-twenties. We’d been cooped up in a tiny town in the Borders for two weeks. All we had to do the next day was go to court for the verdict.’
‘We all went back to the cottage and had a smoke and did some Es to keep the party going. Colette let her hair down and we started playing these stupid drinking games. She was so happy that night. It’s how I try and remember her.’
‘I take it you scored the drugs?’
‘Yes. The others were clueless.’
‘Did you sleep with her?’ asked Farrell.
‘Yes. This was before I met Sarah. The reason I kept it quiet all these years was out of respect for her fiancé, Peter Swift. He was a decent enough bloke and I didn’t want to pile on the agony after what had happened. She’d been having doubts about their relationship. He didn’t need to know that.’
‘Nothing else to tell me?’
‘Isn’t that enough? If we hadn’t been drinking, if we hadn’t done drugs, if I hadn’t slept with her, would she still be alive today?’
‘My advice, for what it’s worth, get some counselling. Living with guilt eats you alive. Take it from one who knows.’
‘I’ll think about it,’ Kerr said, getting to his feet and zipping his bag.
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