by Ian Todd
“If they wur available before this meeting, which they wurnae,” The Editor interrupted him, nipping that wan in the bud, as he took his time in lighting up a fat cigar. “The agreement between oor superiors wis that baith you and Chief Superintendent Bison here wid make yersels available fur comment in the first instance, before we went tae press wae the results ae oor investigation. Secondly, wan ae oor journalists, in this case Miss Campbell, alang wae wan ae oor photographers, Tommy Print, mair commonly known in the toon as Slipper, wid be present at the arrest ae Mr Hamilton. In order tae guarantee that we wid be the first media organisation tae report oan the story and tae gie us time tae make oor copy deidline oan Sunday evening, the arrest and subsequent detention ae Mr Hamilton, wid take place up in Lochinver, where we believe he his substantial private and business holdings central tae the investigation. We also understaun that, although Mr Hamilton claimed leave ae absence fae his work at short notice, due tae his mother being no well, Mr Hamilton is in fact up north as we speak, due tae a customs and local polis operation involving a company he’s chairman ae, Assynt Development Holdings. The company wis raided a few days ago, efter it wis discovered that wan ae the skippers ae his fishing boats wis landing tons ae illegal black fish in the dead ae the night in wan ae the many deserted beach coves that the area is famous fur, in breach ae European Fish Quota Regulations. We wid also expect Superintendent Bruce tae be the arresting officer, due tae the sterling work him and Miss Campbell hiv carried oot thegither in reaching this stage ae the investigation.”
“Superintendent Bruce may no be available oan Sunday,” The Heid ae Crime and Intelligence informed him.
“Oh?”
“That shouldnae be a problem though,” Bison continued. “We kin put somewan else in. The main thing is that we get oor man and you get the photos.”
Silence.
“Pearl?” The Editor turned and asked, as everywan’s eyes in the room focussed in oan hers.
“Superintendent Bruce is a key component ae ma investigation. Irrespective ae the ootcome ae the story and any subsequent flack, as far as Ah’m concerned, he’s the real hero here.”
“We believe a mair senior officer should be leading the arrest, given the seriousness ae the allegation against a corporate member ae the force’s staff, even though he dis work fur us in a civilian capacity.”
“Like who?” Pearl asked, smelling a rat.
“Like Chief Superintendent Bison here,” The Assistant Chief Constable replied, as Bison visibly puffed oot his stripped coloured medal ribbon chest.
“Withoot Superintendent Bruce’s support, encouragement and advice, there widnae be a story. Ah believe his presence is crucial tae me being able tae conclude ma investigation.”
“Wae aw due respect, dear,” The Assistant Chief Constable said, ignoring the hackles gaun up in The Ginger sitting opposite him. “We determine the operational involvement ae officers and at which level ae the force that man comes fae.”
“Bit, that’s ma issue,” Pearl exclaimed, fighting tae control her anger. “Irrespective ae the contents ae the story, replacing a dedicated polis officer like Bruce wae a senior commander who hid overall responsible fur a department like the fraud squad, who some might believe irresponsibly allowed Robert Hamilton’s conduct tae go unchecked and undetected fur so long, at best smells ae a dampening doon ae liability at a senior level within the force or worse, an attempt tae cover up responsibility oan the part ae management. Whether anywan in this room likes it or no, senior management within the force ur gonnae take a pounding o’er this. Ah certainly won’t be singing the praises ae senior management, that’s fur sure.”
“Hugh?”
“I concur with Pearl,” Hugh McAllen replied thoughtfully, as the two senior bizzies opposite glared across at him. “I’ve already gone over a draft of what Pearl has produced so far and have amended the article accordingly, with regard to any legal ramifications on the content. In my opinion, if anyone within the police force is to come out of this with their reputation intact, it’s Superintendent Bruce.”
“Sam?” The Assistant Chief Inspector asked him.
“Well, Ah’m sure we could relook at Bruce’s participation in the operation,” he scowled, clearly no happy and throwing Pearl a filthy look.
“Right, then, seeing as we appear tae hiv resolved that wee impasse, which reflects the spirit ae us being able tae work successfully thegither, Ah’ll jist haun the proceedings across tae Pearl here fur her tae ask the questions that she’s prepared fur this stage ae the meeting. Pearl?” The Editor said nodding, as the two braids stiffened in their seats.
“Thanks, Mr McGovern. Right, then, jist a wee straightforward question tae start aff wae,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Kin you confirm that Mr Robert Hamilton operated under two different job titles?”
“Eh?” John Sinclair coughed, frowning.
“Those being Deputy Finance Director and Deputy Establishment Officer?” she asked.
“Aye.”
“Is that common within the force?”
“Er, naw, that would be unusual…certainly within the operational divisions,” he admitted.
“In his role as the Deputy Establishment Officer, whit wis his main area ae responsibility?”
Silence.
“He wis responsible fur managing…fur overseeing the Serious Task Force budget,” he eventually replied.
“The secret budget otherwise known as The Establishment Budget?”
“Er, aye.”
“And whit did ‘being responsible or overseeing’ this secret budget entail?”
“Hamilton his…hid sole jurisdiction tae ensure that any costs associated wae undercover activity relating tae organised crime…surveillance, stakeoots, paid informers, that kind ae thing, that hidnae been approved as part ae the force’s annual budget allocation, wis processed.”
“Processed?”
“Paid oot.”
“Where did the budget originate fae?”
“The Scottish Office in Edinburgh.”
“Dae ye know which division or department?”
Silence.
“Scottish Home and Health Department.”
“Under whose authority?”
“Pass…ultimately, the responsibility wid come under the Secretary ae State for Scotland.”
“Whose job within the polis department here in the toon hid supervisory…management responsibility fur Robert Hamilton, in his capacity as Deputy Establishment Officer?”
“That job title wis never really brought up. It wis his role as the Deputy Director ae Finance that wis supervised…by, by the assistant chief constable, as part ae his numerous other functions.”
“Ye mean you…you’re responsible?”
“Whit Ah mean is, it wis the role ae the assistant chief constable. Ah’ve only recently been appointed oan a permanent basis efter hivving been acting up since ma predecessor resigned last October as a result ae the furore efter Wan-bob Broon, Charlie Hastie and three serving polis officers wur charged wae corruption and complicity in the murder ae that young nurse, Rose Bain.”
“Ur you saying that ye wurnae aware ae the secret fund or its uses?”
“Whit Ah’m saying, Miss Campbell, is that Robert Hamilton came under ma responsibility since becoming the assistant chief constable fae a force ootwith the city…Motherwell, tae be precise.”
“Surely if Hamilton had direct control of this special account, then someone must have had the responsibility of ensuring the authorisation procedures were robust, Assistant Chief Constable?” Hugh McAllen asked him.
“Since this awful situation his come tae light, Ah’ve checked. Ah couldnae find any form ae budgetary reconciliation controls…or at least, none that wur ever implemented,” The Assistant Chief Constable admitted, looking as miserable as a droont cat. “The internal management ae the account wis aw based oan trust. Efter aw, Hamilton is…wis a very senior member ae staff. The few controls that wur in place originally, he basica
lly jist ignored. Nowan ever questioned him.”
“In operational terms, the senior officer, usually an inspector oan the ground, basically identified a particular need and Hamilton came up wae the budget. It wis as simple as that. The key thing wis that we wurnae tae apply or top up any existing budget allocations. This wis supposed tae be fur additional support over and above the existing fraud and flying squads annual allocated budgets,” Bison added.
“Whit aboot in the finance section itsel?” Hamish asked.
“He basically ran the show. Nowan under him wid ever question somewan at his senior management level, particularly as this budget wis a well-guarded secret.”
“So, whit ye’re admitting tae, is that there wis nae internal financial control systems in place within the finance department ae Glesga City Polis and subsequently, Strathclyde Polis?” Pearl asked him.
“There ur stringent controls, bit no concerning Hamilton’s management ae this particular budget account.”
“Whit aboot internal or external auditors?” Hamish asked. “Ah mean, surely they wid’ve insisted oan strict financial control and accountability procedures?”
“If they did, Ah couldnae find anything…which tends tae suggest that they wid’ve been kept in the dark as well. Remember, the account wis controlled and managed by wan individual. In this case, that person wis Robert Hamilton.”
“I find this all utterly astonishing, I must admit,” Hugh McAllen admitted, shaking his heid, as the two braids cringed. “I mean, we’re talking about hundreds of thousands of pounds over a period of five or six years.”
“Aye, well, as Miss Campbell and Chief Inspector, noo Superintendent Bruce discovered,” Bison reminded them. “There wis nothing, at least doon here in the toon, that wid’ve caused any alarm bells tae ring regarding Hamilton’s lifestyle. Noo, if he wis splashing the cash the way he’s clearly been daeing up in the Highlands there, then there’s nae doubt in ma mind that we wid’ve picked up oan it,” he claimed, as the assistant chief constable nodded in agreement and the other four, including Helen Cardle, aw looked at Bison in disbelief, clearly no convinced. “It wis only when the bank manager ae The Clydeside Bank up there in Bishopbriggs, a Mr Harold McMillan, seemingly the grandson ae the great man himsel, contacted Superintendent Bruce wae his suspicions aboot the cheques coming in tae Hamilton’s personal account, that we realised that Hamilton wis up tae nae good.”
“Why hid this bank manager no reported his suspicions before noo?” Hamish wondered.
“Mr McMillan his only recently been transferred up fae the Springburn Branch, which is being demolished. The previous manager seemingly died ae a heart attack, the week before Mr McMillan took o’er the branch,” Pearl answered.
“Aye, it widnae hiv taken the brain ae Britain tae see why, the thieving, colluding basturt that he wis,” Sam Bison, the heid ae Crime and Intelligence cursed.
Chapter Seventy
PC Lachlan Mackenzie wis glad he’d gone fur a shite before finally drapping aff tae sleep the night before. He wisnae too sure if the churning in they guts ae his wis because he wis feeling excited, petrified or in love, as the unmarked polis car rumbled past Inverkirkaig Primary School oan his left and the big mean-looking sergeant, wae the seven o’clock shadow oan his face, drapped doon a gear. Since arresting Heckie MacLeod and the others doon oan Vestey’s Bay, he’d become a bit ae a celebrity oan the wan haun and a pariah oan the other, depending oan who he bumped intae when he wis oot and aboot oan his foot patrols in Lochinver. The attention hid become so alarming at wan point, that he’d decided tae spend a bit mair time patrolling the coastline up aroond Clachtoll. Even up there, he couldnae escape the limelight. Eighty seven year auld Jesus MacKenzie hid chased him in his tractor fur o’er five miles before catching up wae him at Stoer Point, underneath the shadow ae the lighthoose. Jesus hid refused tae move his tractor aff the track tae allow him tae retrace his steps, efter he’d stupidly furgoatten that the road up tae the lighthoose ended in a dead end.
“Right, then, laddie, chust tell me all about it again, only this time, take your time,” Jesus hid whistled through they bare gums ae his, as the baith ae them hid sat oan a bale ae straw oan the back ae Jesus’s trailer, sharing his aunt Ishbel’s honey sandwiches, watching the pair ae sea eagles playfully swoop and chase each other high above the cliffs.
The latest drama hid started the previous efternoon. Johnboy Taylor hid turned up at the polis station, oot ae the blue. Behind him, through the office windae, he’d noticed Flintlock McBean sitting behind the wheel ae his auld Landy. Sitting in the passenger seat, wae its heid hinging oot the windae, smacking its chops, hid been Flintlock’s wild dug, Blackie, the same dug that hid bitten him oan the arse the last time he’d been up at the caravan site oan official business.
“Aye, he’s got a thing about lackeys in uniform,” Flintlock hid said, ignoring his threats tae hiv the thing put doon.
“Johnboy?” he’d exclaimed in surprise.
“How ye daeing, Lachlan?”
“Fine. Ah read that book you let me borrow.”
“Which wan?”
“No Mean City. I see what you mean about Glesgie. Dangerous place.”
“Ach, it’s aw quietened doon noo since that book wis written back in the 1930s. Ye’re mair likely tae be shot in the back ae the heid these days, than end up getting slashed wae a barber’s open razor, so ye ur,” he’d said laughing.
“Is that what your book’s about?”
“Whit book?”
“The one you’re writing.”
“Naw, the wan Ah’m writing is aboot a couple ae gold prospectors oot in the Australian outback, so it is,” he’d replied, smiling.
“Oh, right.”
“Anyway, Lachlan, that’s no whit Ah’ve nipped in tae see ye aboot oan the way up the road. How long ur ye gonnae be here fur?”
“I finish my shift at two pm. Why?”
“Oh, right,” he’d said, staunin there, clearly thinking. “Is there a bed in here?”
“Why?”
“Jist answer the question.”
“There’s one in the cell.”
“Good, cause ye’re gonnae need it.”
“Bit…”
“Look, Lachlan, wae whit Ah’m aboot tae tell ye, Ah don’t want ye asking me any questions…hiv ye goat that?”
“But…”
“Naw, listen, Ah’m daeing ye a wee favour here that’ll be tae yer advantage, so it will.”
“Advantage?”
“Ye’re gonnae be receiving a phone call, so ye ur.”
“And?”
“And it’s tae dae wae The Laird.”
“Mr Hamilton, but…”
“Look, Ah’m in a hurry. Ah’m aff tae hiv a look at some sheep up at Ewan MacLeod’s before heiding hame. Ewan’s gonnae show me how they two dugs ae his dae the business wae the sheep.”
“But, who’s going to call me?”
“It’ll either be somewan fae Strathclyde Polis or it’ll be wan ae your lot fae Inverness. Jist make sure ye’re here and sound surprised when they speak tae ye. We don’t want them knowing that you knew in advance.”
“Advance? In advance of what?”
“Ye’ll see,” he’d said, laughing, heidin fur the door.
“But, I’ve chust to hang about here…until when?”
“Sometime the day. Bye.”
And wae that he’d disappeared. He’d hung aboot the rest ae the efternoon intae the evening. He’d been sitting oan the stool at the desk, his heid oan his erms, sleeping, when the ringing ae the telephone hid nearly toppled him aff the stool. It hid been an inspector MacDonald fae Inverness.
“Constable MacKenzie?”
“Er, yes, sir.”
“It’s Inspector Imlach MacDonald here from HQ in Inverness. Don’t ask questions, laddie, but there will be a delegation from Glesgie Town, heading in your direction.”
“Oh, but…”
“There will be a Superintendent Bruce alo
ng with a few others. You’ve to give them all the assistance that they require. Have you got that, laddie?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, then, when was the last time you had a haircut?”
“A what?”
“You heard me.”
“Oh, er, chust about a month ago, sir. Why?”
“A month? Hmm. Is the hair over the top of your ears?”
“Er, slightly, sir.”
“Right, I would advise you to either go and get your hair cut or give yourself a trim, especially around the ears. There’s a famous journalist coming up with a photographer in tow. We wouldn’t want you to let the side down. Have you got that, laddie?”
“Oh, er, yes, sir. What time should I expect their arrival?”
“Chust assist this Superintendent Bruce, laddie. By that, I mean give him what he wants. Over and out,” Inspector MacDonald hid gruffly said, hinging up the phone.
He never did go and try and get his aunt Ishbel to cut his hair. He wis too scared that the superintendent wid arrive at the station and he wisnae there. Despite being as blunt as Inspector MacDonald fae Inverness, he’d managed tae trim the offending strands ae hair back tae behind his ears wae the pair ae scissors he’d found in a drawer. He wondered how Johnboy knew he’d be receiving a phone call fae his superiors. Who wis Johnboy Taylor, he wondered, no fur the first time. He turned tae see if the other car wis still behind them. He hidnae heard the feet entering the polis station. The first he’d been aware ae anything, wis when he’d been awakened by the strange voice ae a mermaid at 5.45 am, hauf an hour earlier. At first he’d thought he wis still fast asleep, dreaming. He hidnae understood whit he’d been asked, until she’d repeated the question. She sounded like Johnboy’s girlfriend.
“Hiv you been lifted or ur you the local polis, Jimmy?” she’d asked, laughing at his reaction.
She wis the maist beautiful maid he’d ever set eyes oan in his life, apart fae maybe Fyon MacLeod, who he’d gone through primary school wae before she emigrated tae Canada wae her parents when they wur baith aboot eleven years auld.