‘Think he would? I mean, if he was planning some payback, would he tell you?’
Rab considered his reply, making Knight think he was not so sure about his old pal. ‘Maybe, maybe not. Hard to say now. Ten years ago I’d’ve said, aye, definitely, but now? You said it, people change.’
‘So he could’ve done it?’
‘Anybody could’ve done it. You could’ve done it, I could’ve done it, fuckin aliens could’ve done it. What I’m saying is, I don’t believe Davie would’ve done it.’
Knight puffed thoughtfully on the remnants of his smoke. ‘Yeah, me neither. Told my boss that, too. He’s asking me to nose around a bit, on the hush-hush. He’s had a bee in his bonnet about Davie McCall ever since Joe the Tailor got himself done. Luca, too.’
‘Why Luca specifically?’
Knight gave him a sideways glance. ‘Have I never told you? Bannatyne thinks Luca pulled the trigger on the old man.’
Rab fell silent, taking this in. ‘What makes him think that?’
Knight shrugged. ‘Gut feeling. He doesn’t think Jazz Sinclair had it in him to do it, or that Joe would let a kid like that get the drop on him. And then there’s the GSR, told you about that, didn’t I?’
Rab nodded. Gunshot residue, tiny chemical particles that blow back from the gun when fired, adhering to the gunhand. There had been none on Jazz Sinclair, Knight had told him. Rab had never heard of GSR before then. Knight was certain he’d kept it in mind since, though.
Knight said, ‘It had to be someone he knew, someone he trusted. Luca fits the bill, so the boss did some digging around.’
‘What did he find out?’
‘Fuck all. That’s what bothers him. What do you know about him?’
Rab shrugged. ‘Born in Sicily, went to New York, came here. That’s it.’ Knight could tell Rab knew more, a lot more, but wasn’t going to tell. Rab only passed on information that would do him favours and he wasn’t ready to say anything about Luca. Not yet anyway. Never mind, Knight had time. This was one of the reasons behind this meeting, just to plant seeds into McClymont’s mind. And from little seeds, big trees grew.
Rab continued, ‘Luca’s taking less and less to do with business. Getting old.’
‘That right?’ said Knight, thoughtfully. ‘Getting to be a bit of a passenger, is he?’
‘Wouldn’t say that,’ said Rab, but Knight could hear caution in his voice.
Knight dropped what was left of his cigarillo onto the ground and twisted his foot on it. ‘Doesn’t matter, big guy. Just keep an eye on your boy McCall, eh? Let me know if you hear anything. And watch him around Luca. He might get the same notion as my boss and then there’d be trouble. You know what Davie thought of Joe.’
He patted McClymont on the back and headed back the way he’d come, for he was due to link up with Frank Donovan. He’d taken a few steps when he remembered something else and turned. ‘And Rab…’
McClymont looked up and Knight could see by his expression that he was thinking about Davie. And Luca. Specially Luca.
‘When you see Liam Mulvey, give him my best.’
The change of expression from thoughtfulness to suspicion was like a cloud passing over the sun. ‘How the fuck d’you know I’m going to see him?’
Knight gave him his biggest shit-eating grin. ‘He owes you money, I told you I’d heard a whisper he’d come into some. Stands to reason you’d be paying him a visit. Saturday, if I’m not mistaken.’
Rab’s eyes narrowed and Knight knew he was trying to suss what game he was playing now. Knight kept his grin wide and open, as ever enjoying keeping Rab guessing. He saw him sigh and there was a weariness in his voice, ‘How the fuck you know these things, Knight?’
‘Told you before, son – got eyes and ears everywhere. There’s no much happens I don’t hear some sort of whisper about…’
Knight knew he was going to be late for his meet with Donovan, but there was business to discuss.
* * *
Donovan didn’t mind Knight being late because it gave him the opportunity to study the computer printouts in front of him. They gave him chills. He’d put the request through HOLMES, the Home Office Large Major Enquiry System. Seven major enquiries came back from Scotland, England, Wales and Northern Ireland – God bless modern technology. He’d discounted four of them because they didn’t quite fit the pattern he was looking for or someone was already doing time. That didn’t mean they weren’t part of the puzzle, but he had to whittle it down somehow.
So that left three. One from London, one from Liverpool, one from Manchester, all committed since 1985. There might be older cases, but, Jesus – this was enough to get the goosebumps growing.
Three murders.
Three women of varying ages, two of them prostitutes, one a middle-aged mum picked up in a disco. All found in pokey flats, all battered to death with a poker, which was left at the scene. All the rooms similar to the two Glasgow murders, an overturned chair, a standard lamp on its side. All with a fire left burning.
All unsolved.
He knew he should’ve kicked this upstairs before now, but he still wasn’t sure he was on solid ground. After all, it was just his coppers’ nose twitching. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. Was Danny McCall really some undetected serial killer, reproducing the murder of his wife up and down the country? And if so, what the hell was going on his twisted mind? And had Detective Sergeant Francis Donovan of Strathclyde’s finest simply stumbled on it? Betting man that he was, Donovan would not lay odds on that. And yet his nose was still twitching. He laid his hands on the printouts, as if he could divine some basic truth through his fingertips. More information was needed, but he knew as a lowly DS he was unlikely to get it. This would need someone on a higher pay scale.
He saw Knight enter the CID room, the ubiquitous cigarillo clenched between his teeth, so he pulled together the sheets of paper and thrust them into a drawer. There was no way he was sharing this with him. Knight would either scoff or work out a way to take all the glory for himself.
Knight came to a halt at his desk, plucked the cigarillo from his mouth, smiled, and said, ‘So, Frankie boy, you ready to go see your wee pal? You want some time alone with him, to make kissy faces, just you let me know.’
Donovan sighed. He hated working with Jimmy Knight.
* * *
Audrey was still trying to convince Davie to take the photographs and his fears to the police when there was a rapping at the door. Davie knew it was the Law even before he opened it – they had a way of banging like they had the right to do what they wanted.
‘Davie,’ said Frank Donovan, his face as stiff as Audrey’s had been earlier, his voice low, the friendly manner of the previous night now gone. Only the cop was left. ‘Need a word.’
Davie flicked his gaze from Donovan to the man at his side. He knew him immediately, even though the last time he’d seen him was only as a face in a courtroom. Jimmy Knight, the one they called the Black Knight, the one who forced witnesses to give perjured evidence. Davie had been involved in the robbery, but the notion that he was convicted on false testimony still rankled. Davie felt his muscles tense. Donovan caught the look and went on, ‘You remember Detective Sergeant Knight?’
‘He want a word, too?’ Davie asked.
Knight said, his voice harsh, ‘Let us in, McCall, don’t be pissing me about on the doorstep.’
Donovan half-turned his head towards his colleague, irritation flaring then subsiding, trying hard to present a unified front. ‘Let us come in, Davie,’ he said, his tone conciliatory. ‘It’s best we discuss it inside, eh?’
Davie sighed and stepped aside. Donovan nodded as he passed, Knight barged on down the hallway. He’d been in the flat before, when he arrested Davie and Rab. He glanced to his right into the kitchen then turned left to the sitting room. Davie followed the cops, knowing this had to be about Lomas and Harris. It was only a matter of time.
Donovan stopped short when h
e caught sight of Audrey sitting in an armchair, a cold mug of coffee in her hand. ‘Audrey?’
Audrey kept her face impassive, but Davie caught the slight flare in her eyes as she saw the two cops. ‘Frank,’ she said, calmly.
Donovan looked from her to Davie, his confusion evident. Davie guessed she was the last person he’d expected to see. Knight didn’t have any time for this, but he knew better than to be as abrupt in front of a witness as he had been at the door. Davie also had the impression he’d recognised Audrey. ‘We’d like to speak to Mister McCall alone, miss, if you don’t mind.’
‘Anything you can say to Davie you can say in front of me, that right, Davie?’
Davie nodded. He was enjoying the way she handled these guys. Being a straight arrow – and a crime reporter on the Daily Record – she’d get away with it. To an extent, at least.
Knight’s voice became officious. ‘This is police business and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’
‘You arresting him?’
‘No.’
‘You going to caution him?’
A red flush began to stain Knight’s cheeks. Davie knew cops didn’t like to answer questions. It was a technique Joe had taught them to circumvent police interviews. If you start asking questions, they get flustered.
‘Not at this stage,’ said Knight.
‘You going to haul him downtown?’ Audrey’s eyes were shining now and Davie could tell she was enjoying herself as well.
Knight glanced at Donovan. Davie followed the look and saw the big cop would get no help there. He’d burned his bridges in the doorway. ‘No,’ said Knight, the word straining against his temper.
‘Then I’m free to remain where I am as long as Mister McCall is happy about it. You happy about it, Davie?’
‘Couldn’t be happier.’
Knight sighed deeply, his face growing darker by the second. They had first met in a small interview room at Baird Street Police station and Davie had recognised him then as the kind of copper who could turn nasty if his buttons were pushed. He doubted he had mellowed with age. Donovan, though, wasn’t going to let it get that far.
‘Audrey, do us a favour, come into the kitchen with me, eh?’ he said softly. ‘Let DS Knight ask his questions. Davie’s a big boy, he can handle himself.’
Audrey looked at Davie, who nodded. She obviously knew and trusted Donovan, but Knight she either didn’t know or perhaps only by reputation. However, both she and Davie were aware there was no way he could verbal Davie if he was on his own. He needed corroboration. She got up and followed Donovan out of the room. Knight glared at her back, then said when the door closed behind her, ‘You two back together?’
Davie was not surprised that Knight knew his history. ‘No.’
‘Bit of all right. Bet you’d like to, eh?’
‘She’s married.’
Knight sneered. ‘What? You got scruples?’
‘Yeah, but I’ve got ointment for it.’
Knight exhaled through his nose, which might have passed for a laugh. ‘You a funny guy?’
‘Not especially. What did you want to ask me?’
‘You know a guy called Lomas?’
Davie felt a stillness come over him. So it was about Lomas. Small world, right enough. ‘There was a screw named Lomas in the jail.’
‘Oh?’ Knight’s face tried to look innocently surprised. He didn’t quite pull it off. ‘How was the Bar-L, son? Holiday camp, I hear.’
Davie grimaced. ‘Let’s stop the games, eh? So what do you want to know?’
‘Where were you last night?’
‘Here.’
‘All night?’
‘Yes.’
‘Anyone with you?’
‘No.’
‘On your own?’
‘That’s usually what it means when there’s no-one with me.’
Knight’s jaw tightened. Davie wasn’t normally one for snappy comebacks but something about Knight brought it out in him. ‘So no-one can verify that you were here?’
‘Don’t know how else to say it. I was here, all alone, on my tod, with no-one with me. Clear now?’
The jaw clenched tighter. ‘Crystal. You seen this bloke Lomas since you got out of the jail?’
‘No. Why would I?’
Knight ignored the question. ‘What about a junkie called Donald Harris?’
‘Saw him yesterday,’ Davie knew better than to lie. He’d spoken with Harris in broad daylight and anyone could have seen them together, whereas he was certain no-one saw him at Lomas’s flat, or at least no-one who could identify him.
‘Why?’
‘Him and I have a history. I wanted to know why he attacked me in jail, maybe you’ve heard about that.’
‘I’ve heard it was the other way round.’
Davie shrugged, telling the cop he didn’t care what he’d heard. Knight paused. ‘You part on amicable terms?’
‘Yes. Mrs Fraser was with me, you can check with her.’
‘Mrs Fraser? Bit formal, isn’t it? If I remember right, you were pretty tight once.’
‘We’re old friends.’
Knight leered. ‘Old friends? That what they call it now?’
Davie didn’t answer. He wasn’t getting into that. He regretted even mentioning Audrey, but there was no point in lying about her either. If someone had seen him, they’d seen her, too.
‘You want to know why I’m asking all these questions?’
Davie shrugged. ‘You’ll tell me when you’re ready.’
‘Or won’t.’
Davie shrugged again, still trying to convey lack of interest. That was when Audrey burst in and said hurriedly, ‘Davie, don’t say anything. They’re trying to connect you to a murder…’
Davie kept his face impassive. Knight was clearly irritated by the interruption, though. ‘Mrs Fraser, I’m not finished here.’
‘Yes, you are,’ she said. Donovan loomed up behind her, shrugging in apology at his colleague. Audrey went on, ‘Davie had nothing to do with that man’s death.’
Knight’s lips tightened. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because he was with me last night.’
Knight raised his eyebrows and glanced at Davie, who felt something sink in his chest. Audrey, why’d you have to say that?
‘Mister McCall told me he was alone last night.’
Audrey’s eyes were defiant. ‘He was with me.’
‘All night?’
Audrey hesitated then, glancing at Davie. He shook his head a fraction, trying to warn her off. ‘No, not all night. But Frank tells me this fellow was killed sometime between 7pm and 8pm. I was with Davie until then.’
Knight threw Donovan a glare then and when he spoke there was a weariness in his voice. ‘Anyone else here?’
‘No, just us.’
‘I see,’ said Knight, glancing at Davie. ‘And what were you doing together, just the two of you?’ That leer was back and Davie could tell it really pissed Audrey off.
‘Talking, catching up. We’re old friends.’
‘Mmm, old friends,’ Knight seemed to savour the two words, giving Audrey a slight smile. ‘And does your husband know about this, I wonder?’
Davie really thought Audrey was going to launch herself at the smirking cop. Donovan must have too, because he cleared his throat then and stepped between her and Knight. ‘I think that’s as far as we can go here, eh?’
Knight’s eyes slid from Davie back to Audrey and back to Davie again. He obviously did not believe a word of what Audrey had said, but there was no way for him to prove otherwise. He nodded. ‘Okay, that’ll do. For now. But I’m telling you, McCall, this whole thing stinks. You know something and I’m going to find out what it is, believe me, son.’
He brushed past Donovan and vanished into the hallway. Donovan gave Audrey a stern look then shook his head before following him.
Davie waited until he heard the front door close then slipped into the hallway to ensure they were gone.
As soon as he walked back into the sitting room he said, ‘Shouldn’t’ve done that, Aud.’
‘Frank told me they know all about you and Lomas and Harris. He says they’re convinced you had something to do with their deaths.’
Davie thought, they’re not wrong. He said, ‘Why is Frank telling you all this?’
‘Because he’s a good guy, Davie. He doesn’t agree with them – he knows you better than you think. I think since you got Clem Boyle that night he’s studied up on you. He told me to get in here and break this up somehow. Telling him I was with you was the only way I could think of on the spur of the moment.’
Davie shook his head. ‘That was the Black Knight, you know him?’ She nodded and Davie continued, ‘If he finds anything to link me to that graveyard last night, you’ll be in deep trouble.’
She shrugged. ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’
She looked so calm, so confident and he knew he was falling for her all over again. It scared the hell out of him. ‘He’ll tell your husband.’
‘What makes you so sure?
‘You pissed him off, he’ll want to get you back.’
She thought about this. Her face clouded for a second then cleared. ‘I’ll handle it.’
* * *
‘What the fuck was that all about, Frank?’ Knight was furious. He rounded on Donovan as they descended the stairs. ‘What? Could you no keep a wee slip of a lassie away for longer than five minutes?’
‘What was I supposed to do, pin her by the arms?’
‘You do anything you bloody have to when I’m interviewing a fuckin suspect.’
‘You’re not even supposed to be interviewing him, you’re there unofficially, remember? Anyway, you’ve got nothing on him and you know it.’
‘He could’ve burst…’
Donovan began to laugh, the idea of Davie McCall being so overtaken with guilt that he spontaneously confesses being worthy of a stand-up comedian. He’d seen it happen, but not to guys like McCall. They never burst. Knight glared at him.
Donovan said, ‘He’s not the type to use a knife, you know him.’
‘First time for everything, Frankie boy.’ They were moving together down the stairs towards the street now. ‘You think she was with him last night?’
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