by Val McDermid
Miran’s shoulders relaxed. ‘This is good. She is worrying, you know?’
‘I know. And I’m sorry about that.’
He patted her shoulder. ‘But it is important to speak. We know that too.’ Then he was gone, off to serve the next customers.
Karen flipped open her laptop and jumped on board the Wi-Fi. Her automatic first stop was her email and the morning’s bulletin from Police Scotland. She skimmed the reports and requests for information, then her eye was caught by the Dog Biscuit’s name. ACC Markie to deliver keynote speech, the catchline read. Karen clicked on the link and read:
ACC Markie is at Europol HQ in the Hague today to deliver a keynote speech about the ongoing cooperation between Police Scotland and Europol in a post-Brexit world. She will highlight the importance of a continuing close relationship with our European colleagues in the fight against transnational crime.
She didn’t bother with the rest of the flannel. The main thing was that Markie was out of the country for at least one day. Knowing she couldn’t be blindsided was a bonus. She returned to her email and was pleasantly surprised to see the next message was from Michael Moss with an empty subject line. Nevertheless her heart quickened with hope as she clicked it open.
Good morning, DCI Pirie, she read.
It was a pleasure to meet you last week and fascinating to obtain some small insight into the work that you do in historic cases, an area I have always found particularly gripping. Following our conversation, I sent a communication to the members of the LDI with little hope of providing you with assistance. However, I was happily proved wrong. And this is the response I received late last night from one of our members:
--------Forwarded message--------
From: David Cohn: [email protected]
To: Michael Moss: [email protected]
Re: help re unusual sale in 1995
Hello, Michael. Good to hear from you, even with such a strange request. I don’t know if this is what your policewoman is looking for, but your inquiry stirred something in my memory. You probably don’t remember – why should you? – but back in 1995, my father was still running the business though I was doing a lot more of the ‘front of house’ work. I was the face of Cohn Diamonds, if you like. So when anyone came in to sell stones, I was the person who dealt with them in the first instance.
Relying on memory alone, I can’t be precise about the date but I do recall a young blonde American woman bringing in a parcel of uncut stones around that time. They were of a uniformly high gem quality, which is mostly why I remember them. Most of them were clear or very faintly tinted, and they were low in flaws. If I’m right, we bought them for something like £150k.
You will of course be wanting more detail than these vague recollections. We will have full records of the sale. As you doubtless practise yourself, we insist on proper ID – passport or driving licence – and bank details when we make a sale, as well as provenance. Also, back in 1995, before we had full CCTV in all the showrooms and offices, we had a concealed stills camera that photographed all potential vendors. I’m sending this email from home, but I will check our records when I get in tomorrow morning.
Can you let me have the contact details for the police officer concerned and if my partial recollection turns out to be accurate, I could get in touch with her directly?
Best wishes to you and your family,
David Cohn
I took the liberty of passing on your email address and mobile number to David. He’s a very reliable chap – he took over the family business about ten years ago and he’s been on the board of the LDI for some years. Cohn’s have a solid reputation for integrity and discretion. Really, you could not have been more fortunate in terms of who you are dealing with.
I wish you the very best of luck in solving your historic murder.
Yours sincerely
Michael Moss
It was almost too good to be true. Surely there couldn’t have been more than one young blonde American selling diamonds in London in 1995? Karen checked the time on her screen. It wasn’t even quarter past eight yet. She was going to have to possess her soul in patience for a bit longer. She swallowed the rest of her coffee in a single gulp and headed for the door. All the frustrations of the last few days fell away when she emerged on to Duke Street as a 25 bus lumbered into sight. She broke into a run and made it to the next stop with seconds to spare. She wanted to be sure she was in the office if David Cohn called, not halfway up Leith Walk with the noise of traffic to distract her.
By the time the Mint arrived a few minutes before nine, she was pacing. She felt electric with nervous energy, desperate to hear what the diamond dealer might have to tell her. ‘What’s up?’ Jason asked, an edge of panic in his voice. She gave him the thirty-second version. Even that was enough for his jaw to drop. ‘Jings,’ was all he could say.
‘Let’s not get over-excited yet.’ Karen was cautioning herself as much as him. ‘How did you get on with your homework?’
Jason pulled out his notebook. ‘I managed to track down six other heavy athletes who were competing on the circuit in 1995.’ He looked up, pulling a face. ‘None of them was much good on detail. They’re all obsessed with their own performances. They don’t pay that much attention to who else is competing on the day unless they get beaten by them. But they all said that Joey did disappear from the scene, and four of them were able to pin it down to 1995. And that fits with what the Scottish Highland Games Association told me. They’ve got no trace of Joey Sutherland being placed in any event after the Invercharron Games, and he never renewed his registration. It’s possible he may have been competing abroad, but even so, the guys I spoke to said they thought somebody would have run into him along the way and got the story behind his disappearing act.’
‘Good work. It doesn’t definitively prove the window of death, but it gives us more circumstantial support.’ And now for the more tricky question. Casually, she said, ‘And what about Mackenzie? Any luck there?’
He flushed. ‘I was a bit devious. He said he went to Edinburgh University, yeah? So I rang up their admin department and I said I was from the Home Office, checking on the immigration status of overseas students. I mean, I know Mackenzie is Scottish and not American, obviously, but I thought with him being at school in America, it might be the sort of thing somebody in immigration might have wanted to clarify?’
Karen was amazed. It was a deception worthy of her own deviousness. ‘And what did they tell you?’
‘According to his university application, he went to Palo Alto High School. Never went anywhere near Michigan as far as his education went. There’s no reason to believe he ever met Shirley O’Shaughnessy. You google their names together, there’s not even a photo of them at a charity gala. None of his coffee shops is in any of her company’s properties. I think he’s clean, boss.’
The extent of her relief surprised her. She would be able to sit across a table from Hamish Mackenzie tonight at dinner without having to worry whether he was a co-conspirator in murder. No, the carping little voice in her head said, just a different sort of devious liar.
Before she could reply, her mobile rang. They both started and looked at each other, anticipation on their faces. Karen snatched up her phone. ‘DCI Pirie,’ she said, more peremptorily than she’d planned.
‘Good morning, Chief Inspector. This is David Cohn from Cohn Diamonds. I believe Michael Moss may have mentioned to you that I might call?’ The voice was a very precise light tenor. To Karen’s ear, he sounded like a Londoner, but she was no expert on the nuances of southern accents.
‘Yes, thank you, Mr Cohn. I appreciate your help. And your time, of course.’
‘You’re very welcome. We’ve had occasion to help the police before. It’s an occupational hazard in our line of work, I’m afraid.’
‘I suppose so. With diamonds being so valuable and so portable.’
‘Indeed. And in their uncut stage, not always easy to differentiate. M
ichael tells me you are interested in a purchase we made in 1995, is that correct?’
‘It is. Sometime between mid-September and mid-December, to be precise.’
‘And the seller was a young blonde American woman?’
‘We believe so,’ Karen said, matching his caution.
‘I vaguely remembered a transaction that matched that description so I came in a little early this morning to check our records. We keep very comprehensive records, Chief Inspector. It’s very important to us that no taint of suspicion attaches to our business. We don’t approve of money laundering and we try very hard to be scrupulous in our dealings.’ He sounded almost prim now.
‘Very commendable. I wish everyone was like you, Mr Cohn.’ Karen rolled her eyes at Jason. She was trying to keep her urgency in check. The last thing she wanted to do was to make him nervous. ‘And did you find something in your records that matched your recollection?’
‘I’m pleased to say that I did.’ There was the sound of paper rustling. ‘Wednesday the twenty-seventh of September 1995. We purchased a quantity of uncut diamonds of an unusually high gem quality for the sum of a hundred and seventy thousand pounds. The vendor was a walk-in, which is a circumstance where we take particular care. She produced an American passport, a Michigan driver’s licence and an Edinburgh University student card. And of course, her bank details so we could transfer the payment to her.’ He paused, milking the moment. ‘Does that match your expectations, Chief Inspector?
Karen could hardly speak. ‘Yes,’ she squeezed out. ‘Oh yes. And the name?’
‘Shirley O’Shaughnessy.’
65
2018 – Edinburgh
It was the name she’d wanted to hear, but still Karen could barely believe her ears. ‘Shirley O’Shaughnessy?’ she repeated. Jason grinned and gave her two thumbs up.
‘That’s right,’ Cohn confirmed. ‘Is that what you were expecting to hear?’
‘Hoping,’ Karen said. ‘Can you remember, did you ask her how she came by the diamonds?’
‘I did. To be honest, I didn’t recall her response until I looked at the file this morning. She said she’d been left the diamonds by her grandfather who had worked in Antwerp some years before. He had invested his earnings in stones, she said. I assumed, to avoid the taxman.’
‘We believe the diamonds did come from Antwerp,’ Karen said. ‘But not as the result of an investment. We think they were looted by O’Shaughnessy’s grandfather when the city was liberated. He was working as a double agent for American intelligence. We’re still a bit hazy on all the details.’
‘Obviously, if she had mentioned it had been during the war, I’d have been disinclined to buy the stones.’ Cohn was clearly offended at having been conned in that particular way. ‘So many dealers were dispossessed by the Nazis before they became victims of the Holocaust. We’re always very careful about stones that might have been looted. But her story seemed plausible and she was a very self-assured young woman. Now my memory has been well and truly jogged, I can picture her quite clearly.’
‘Speaking of pictures … In your email to Mr Moss, you said you had a concealed camera that photographed people who came in to sell diamonds. Did you take a photograph of this woman?’
‘Oh yes, of course. It’s attached to the file along with the photocopies of her ID. That’s what triggered my recollection.’
It was almost too good to be true. ‘Is there any chance you can scan the file and send it to me?’
‘We’re always happy to help the police. I’ll have my secretary do it right away.’
‘You’ve already been incredibly helpful but I need to ask one more thing of you,’ Karen said. ‘We’re going to need a formal statement of what you’ve told me. I’m going to speak to a colleague in the Met and ask them to make an appointment with you to go through your recollection of your encounter with Shirley O’Shaughnessy. They’ll also need to take with them the originals of your file. You’ll get it back in due course, but you might want to make a copy of it for your own sake.’
‘I see no problem with that. I’ll expect their call. One thing you haven’t explained, Chief Inspector, is your interest in this particular matter. You seem to be going to a lot of trouble over some possible Nazi war loot. We usually struggle to get the authorities to pursue cases like this.’
‘I’m sorry to say that although the diamonds are a significant part of my case, that’s not what this is about. We believe a man was murdered in the course of Shirley O’Shaughnessy getting her hands on the stones and that’s what I’m pursuing. I know one murder doesn’t sound like much compared to six million, but in my unit we try to treat each life as equally valuable.’ She was aware of sounding both sanctimonious and defensive but she didn’t know how else to explain without possibly offending this stranger.
When he replied, there was warmth in his voice. ‘I’m glad to hear that. When we stop believing that, the road to six million becomes much easier.’
‘I’m glad you see it that way, sir. I’ll try to get someone from the Met to contact you today, if that’s OK?’
‘I’ve nothing in my diary I can’t rearrange. I presume that if your case goes as you hope, there will be a trial?’
‘That’s the plan.’
‘In which case, I look forward to meeting you when I come to give my evidence. It will be a pleasure. Till then, Chief Inspector.’
As soon as she’d said her farewells, Karen let out a whoop of joy. ‘I think we’ve got a case, Jason! We need to brainstorm what we’ve got and where it takes us, but first I’ve got to arrange for the Met to do the interview with David Cohn. Go and get us some coffee while I make a list of questions for them to put to him on the record.’ She waved her fingers in dismissal and turned to her screen. Step by step she constructed a set of questions that would lead detectives unfamiliar with the case through all the key points. She needed them to get this right. It was the keystone of the argument she’d be making to the Procurator Fiscal. She needed that approval before she went in all guns blazing to arrest Shirley O’Shaughnessy. When it came to taking on those with friends in influential places, you had to be very sure of your ground. And Karen was determined that Joey Sutherland’s killer would pay for his death.
By the time Jason returned, she’d finished her questions and she was embroiled in a conversation with a Scotland Yard detective whose own mother couldn’t have described him as helpful. ‘This is a murder inquiry,’ she said, lips tight across her teeth.
‘Yeah, but by your own admission, it’s not exactly current,’ he complained.
‘That doesn’t mean you stick it on the back burner. I’m asking for two officers for a maximum of two hours to take a statement—’
‘And that’s another thing,’ he butted in. ‘Why do you need two of my officers? You think they need their hands held to do something that simple?’
‘It’s not about the competence of your team.’ She wanted to add, ‘you fuckwit’, but restrained herself. ‘It’s about Scots law. We require corroboration for any evidence that’s going to be presented in court. That’s why we do things in pairs up here. It’s supposed to mitigate the whole “he said, she said” element of testimony.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he grumbled. ‘I don’t see why you have to have a different bloody legal system. We’re all part of the same country.’
For now, Karen thought. ‘I know it’s inconvenient, but that’s the way it is. I’ve told the witness you’ll be in touch with him today. This is the crucial interview I need to move to an arrest, so I would really appreciate it if you could see your way to making it happen. I hoped we could get this done DCI to DCI. I really don’t want to take it up the line … ’ The words were emollient but her tone didn’t leave room for discussion.
‘Look, I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got a couple of lads giving evidence at the High Court on the Strand this morning. That’s just down the road from your man. If they get out of there in decent time I’l
l get them to swing by and talk to this … this David Cohn. Send your questions over to me and I’ll see how the day goes. Don’t hold your breath, though.’
‘I’ll expect to hear from you,’ she said, ending the call. She shook her head at Jason. ‘Talk about masters of the universe! Those wankers down there think they’re the only proper polis in the country. Nobody could have a case as important as the most trivial job on their books.’
‘At least we’ve got your notes to work with, boss.’ Jason placed a flat white in front of her with a smile that was intended to be placatory but which would have made dogs howl.
‘Aye. So let’s go through this brick by brick and see if we’ve got a wall or a pile of rubble.’ Karen took a pad of lined A4 paper from her drawer and sharpened her pencils. ‘Let’s start with 1944. Arnie Burke is in Antwerp where he’s been working undercover for US intelligence. Antwerp is liberated by the Canadian Army and Arnie is posted to Scotland. I’m going to assume that he either stole his parcel of diamonds from the Nazis or he took them as payment for services rendered to a dealer. Either way, he’s ended up in Scotland with something he needs to get back safely to America. Agreed so far?’
Jason nodded. ‘Makes sense, boss.’
‘We know from Alice Somerville that her grandfather and his mate Kenny Pascoe were stationed in Wester Ross and when the war was over, they were charged with getting rid of anything the military weren’t taking back with them. That included a pair of brand-new motorbikes that they decided were too good to destroy. So they basically nicked them. Crated them, and buried them. I’m guessing – and this is reaching, but it makes sense – that Arnie had stashed the diamonds in one of the bike panniers because he thought they were going to be shipped back to the States on the same boat as him, and they’d be safer there than in his kitbag. Which for all I know was liable to be searched at various points. Then the plans must have changed at the last minute. And Arnie discovered the bikes weren’t going back at all. There’s his plans, going up in smoke and nothing he can do about it.’