by Ken McClure
Once back in Edinburgh, Steven went straight to police headquarters and told McClintock everything. ‘I’m telling you this because I want you to tell Santini. If it came from me it would look and sound like gloating — and it would be. I don’t much care for your boss but to be fair, there was little the police could have done in this instance.’
‘ Thanks for that,’ said McClintock. ‘But facts are facts and there has still been a bloody huge miscarriage of justice.’
‘ Fraid so.’
‘ Do you still want to talk to Verdi?’ asked McClintock.
‘ Please. Any progress?’
‘ Not yet. He’s still denying everything but we got permission to hold him for another forty-eight hours. He still doesn’t know about us having the snuff videos. We’re keeping them as our ace in the hole.’
‘ Mum’s the word,’ said Steven.
‘ Give me a moment,’ said McClintock. He left the room and came back a couple of minutes later, accompanied by a man in shirtsleeves. ‘Sergeant Wills will take you to him,’ he said. ‘I’m off to tell Santini.’
Despite the intensive questioning he’d been undergoing, Verdi still seemed sharp and alert, thought Steven as he entered the room.
‘ Shit, this is all I need,’ he exclaimed when he saw Steven. ‘What the hell do you want?’
‘ Just a few questions,’ said Steven.
‘ I’ll tell you what I told the rest. I don’t know anything about Tracy Manson’s death or any porn videos.’
‘ I’m not concerned with Tracy’s death; that’s a police matter. Same goes for the porn.’
‘ So what the hell do you want?’
‘ I want you to tell me about your association with John Merton.’
Verdi’s eyes narrowed at the name but he said, ‘Never heard of him.’
‘ Yes you have. He deliberately screwed up forensic evidence and then gave you the nod so you could expose the flaws in court and get your clients off — the ones who could afford it that is. Three of them to be precise, all big name criminals and all three acquitted.’
‘ Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘ You do, Verdi, but I’m not even interested in them. It’s the Julie Summers case I want to know about.’
‘ Still don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Steven leaned closer and said, ‘You are entirely dependent on your people keeping quiet, aren’t you Verdi? They keep quiet and you’ll look after them and their families handsomely. Isn’t that the deal?’
Verdi said nothing.
‘ The trouble with that is that it falls to pieces when you go broke and that’s just what’s about to happen.’
‘ What are you talking about?’ snapped Verdi.
‘ The money, Verdi, the money that links you to an international criminal operation involving pornography, maybe even some of the money that the villains paid to you and Merton for getting them off. I know where it is and how to get my hands on it. The police don’t but I do.’
‘ Dream on,’ said Verdi as Steven sat back.
Steven took the card out of his pocket and read out the first number.
Verdi winced but kept his composure. ‘I take it these are your lottery numbers,’ he said. ‘Let me tell you, it’s a mugs’ game. You’d be better off buying Premium Bonds.’
Steven read out the second account number and then finally, the third.’
Verdi swallowed but didn’t say anything.
‘ Ring a bell?’ Steven asked. ‘Or should I say, sing a song?’
‘ What?’ croaked Verdi.
‘ Eleven letters, usually sings in Berkeley Square,’ said Steven. ‘How am I doing?’
The blood drained from Verdi’s face. ‘You’re serious?’ he said. ‘The police don’t know?’
‘ They don’t,’ said Steven. ‘I’m the only one.’
‘ How about a deal?’
‘ Tell me what I want to know and I’ll give you the card back.’
‘ Not a word to the police?’
‘ Not a word.’
‘ All right, I did have something going with John Merton.’
‘ How did you meet him?’
‘ We met at a club in the early nineties. Let’s say we had a mutual interest in young ladies.’
‘ And their exploitation,’ said Steven.
Verdi ignored the comment. ‘John was a computer buff. He convinced me that that was where the real money was to be made. All we needed was a few willing girls and some film equipment. I had a few friends who were in the sauna business so we pooled our resources and made a few videos. John distributed them via the net and they went like shit off a shovel. Then I found out what his day job was and we decided to help each other out there as well.’
‘ He faked evidence for you?’
‘ Fucked more like. He messed it up and I brought it to the attention of the court.’
‘ Tell me about the Julie Summers case. That was different.’
‘ Yeah, that was different. God help me, I don’t know too much about that. None of it was anything to do with me. It was John’s thing. He had some bee in his bonnet about the guy who was charged.’
‘ David Little?’
‘ That’s right. John maintained that he was as guilty as sin and was determined to see him go down for life. The DNA fingerprint evidence against Little was perfect but John said that some of the other stuff was a bit iffy. He asked me not to challenge it so I didn’t but that bloody case was just about the end of us.’
‘ How so?’
‘ Lee, John’s boss was a piss artist. He didn’t suspect anything about what had been going on until the Summers case. John could usually convince him that he must have screwed up but this time he kept on arguing with John about some gel pattern I think he called it. He refused to accept that he’d made a mistake. The drunken old bastard overheard John telling me on the phone about it in one of his sober moments and checked up on the phone number afterwards. He got in touch with Seymour and Nicholson to say that he thought that something ‘gravely unprofessional’ had been going on.
The old queens called me in and made noises about calling in the police. I had to point out that they had been sharing handsomely in the money I’d been bringing in to the firm and even if they didn’t go down with me, it would be the end of the line for dear old S amp; N. I put forward the alternative of my resignation from the firm with a bit of a pay-off and they went for it.’
‘ What about Lee?’
‘ I had a word with him.’
‘ What does that mean?’
‘ I told him that S amp;N were not going to take the matter any further so there would be no support for him from that direction. If he tried doing something on his own he would be exposed publicly as a drunk who couldn’t run a pie stall let alone a forensic lab. On the other hand, if he forgot about the whole thing he would be paid generously for his continuing silence. Guess which option he went for?’
‘ When did you last hear from him?’
‘ Funnily, a few weeks ago. He called me to say that some nosy bastard was asking questions about the evidence in the Summers case. I suppose that was you. He was up to high doh about it.’
‘ So you killed him in case he started talking about it?’
‘ Christ no, I didn’t give a damn about the Summers case. It was nothing to do with me. All I did was not ask a few questions.’
‘ Did you tell John Merton about Lee’s call?’
‘ As a matter of fact I did.’
‘ So you’re still in touch with him?’
‘ He runs the website.’
‘ And finds the customers?’
‘ No comment.’
‘ Where can I find him?’
‘ I haven’t seen him in ages.’
‘ Then how?’
‘ Through the website. Aren’t computers wonderful?’
‘ So he could be anywhere?’
‘ You got it. Can I have the card no
w?’
Steven handed over the card without another word and left the cell.
TWENTY
‘ How d’you get on?’ asked McClintock when Steven entered.
‘ Real good, how about you?’
‘ The news went down like a shit sandwich but you couldn’t really expect anything else,’ said McClintock. ‘However, our illustrious leader has come to terms with the situation and has switched his attention to damage limitation. He pointed out that we could do a lot to minimise the harm to the force’s reputation if we get a quick result with Verdi and his pals. He’s thinking along the lines of, “Edinburgh’s finest solve prostitute’s murder and smash international porn ring. Oh, and by the way, we locked up the wrong man for eight years.”’
Steven nodded and took out a piece of paper from his wallet. He handed it to McClintock. ‘This may help.’
‘ What’s this?’ asked McClintock, reading out the numbers on it.
‘ I promised Mr Verdi that I wouldn’t say a word about it to the police,’ said Steven.
‘ Christ, these are account numbers!’ exclaimed McClintock. ‘They couldn’t be Ver…’
‘ My lips are sealed,’ said Steven.
‘ But where?…’ began McClintock. ‘Shit, they were in the tin, weren’t they? Tracy’s tin,’ he said. ‘And you held on to them?’
‘ I needed an edge,’ said Steven.
‘ You made some sort of a deal with him?’
‘ He told me what I wanted to know about his arrangement with the forensic lab and I gave him Tracy’s card back without saying a word to the police. I didn’t say I wouldn’t give you a copy of the numbers and let you work it out for yourselves.’
‘ Remind me not to buy a used car from you, Dunbar.’
‘ You’ve started the hunt for Merton?’ asked Steven.
‘ It’s under way. We managed to get his old staff photo from departmental records at the university. It’s years out of date but better than nothing. It’s already been sent out.’
‘ Maybe I could have a copy?’ asked Steven.
‘ A keepsake?’ said McClintock.
‘ I want to see what evil looks like,’ said Steven.
‘ If only you could tell,’ said McClintock. ‘It’d sure make the job a whole lot easier.’
Steven picked up the photograph that McClintock slid across his desk and nodded, ‘Wouldn’t it just,’ he said. He was looking at the photograph of a man in his early thirties with nothing to suggest what he might be capable of. He wouldn’t have attracted a second glance in a bus queue.
‘ He’s still involved with Verdi,’ said Steven. ‘But Verdi maintains he doesn’t know where he is. He says they communicate through the website that Merton runs as a front for the porn business. He runs his legit business the same way. You might be able to trace him through that but I have my doubts. Merton’s no fool when it comes to computers.’
‘ Shit, he could be in California,’ said McClintock, ‘or Thailand or anywhere. This just aint gonna be easy. Maybe I’ll have another go at Verdi about him. He must have a base somewhere.’
‘ Have you thought what you’re going to do about Little’s wife?’ asked Steven. ‘Someone’s going to have to tell her.’
‘ I’ve been pushing it to the back of my mind,’ admitted McClintock. ‘But you’re right. She shouldn’t have to read it in the papers. It’s funny; I’m not sure if she’ll see it as good news or not. I mean, how do we tell her that the husband she divorced and left all these years ago was innocent all along?…’
Steven grimaced and remembered how upset she’d become when he’d brought up the possibility of the porn on Little’s computer having been a plant. ‘She’s going to need some kind of support,’ he said.
‘ Do you think there’s any chance your people could deal with this?’ asked McClintock. ‘I hate to ask but somehow I think the less she sees of the Edinburgh police in the circumstances, the better.’
‘ I’ll have a word with John Macmillan,’ said Steven.
‘ Does she know Little’s got AIDS?’
Steven shook his head. ‘That’s another little surprise to add to the package,’ he said.
‘ Christ, what a fucking mess,’ said McClintock, letting his head drop forward on to his chest and rubbing his temples with his fingertips. ‘Do you think that bastard Merton has any idea what he did?’
‘ It’s my fear that he does,’ said Steven. ‘When Little told me how Merton didn’t believe that he was really doing anything wrong when he was caught selling corpse glands, I saw the warning signs. No conscience; the sure fire trade-mark of the psychopath’
‘ Another psycho. My cup overflows,’ said McClintock.
‘ Well, I’ve got a report to write,’ said Steven, getting up to go. ‘And then I’ll have to start thinking about when I’m going to head south.’
‘ Will you manage a pint before you go?’
‘ I’m not sure,’ said Steven.
McClintock got up and came over to Steven with his hand held out. ‘I can’t say it’s been a pleasure,’ he said shaking hands with a smile. ‘But I’ve got a lot of respect for you, Dunbar.
‘ And vice versa,’ said Steven. ‘Maybe we’ll see each other again.’
‘ If you’re thinking of re-opening any of our old cases, let me know and I’ll put in for early retirement on medical grounds,’ said McClintock.
‘ Let me know how you get on with Verdi and his pals.’
‘ Will do.’
As he left McClintock’s office, Steven saw Santini at the end of the corridor. He was coming towards him but the moment he caught sight of him the policeman put his hand to his head — a theatrical gesture, as if he’d just remembered something — turned on his heel and headed off in the other direction.
‘ Missing you already,’ said Steven under his breath.
The good feeling that Steven usually got at the end of an assignment was entirely missing when he’d finished writing up his report. There were just so many wrongs that could not be put right. David Little would be freed but he was a dying man and the contribution that his brilliant mind might have made to medical science had been lost for ever. Even if he were to go into remission and get some respite from the relentless onslaught of AIDS, it would be difficult if not impossible for former friends and colleagues, who had universally shunned him since the time of his arrest, to start behaving as if nothing had happened.
There was also a nightmare in waiting for Charlotte Little and her daughters when it came to meeting Little face to face for the first time in over eight years. Could Charlotte even bring herself to go through with it at all? he wondered. But whether she did or not, Steven could see that society would turn against her when the full story emerged. The overwhelming evidence against Little at the time would be forgotten in an instant and the papers would cast her in the role of the woman who didn’t stand by her man. To the tabloids, she and her daughters would be the Railway Children family who’d driven off into the sunset as soon as daddy was arrested. Life was about to deliver Charlotte Little yet another kick in the teeth.
It wasn’t as if she’d managed to find happiness in the years after Little went to prison, thought Steven. She’d been forced by the press to live as a recluse for a long time after the trial and God knows what hell her children had had to endure at school when their classmates had found out who they were. Daughters of a child killer? It didn’t bear thinking about. Even when Charlotte had got enough confidence back to re-establish a social life, she’d met up with somebody who’d knocked her about and cheated her out of all her money. Jesus! Take a look at life again soon.
Steven wasn’t quite sure what to suggest to Sci-Med when it came to informing Charlotte. He was afraid that his original notion of requesting some kind of support for her would translate into a woman PC making tea. A nice cup of tea, the British panacea for all ills. World’s coming to an end? Best put kettle on, love…
The only positive thing that Ste
ven could see in the situation was the fact that Charlotte had a supportive family behind her. Her mother and father were genuinely nice people who cared deeply for their daughter and had stood by her through thick and thin. It couldn’t have been easy for them being associated with a child murderer at the time when the case was all over the papers. He just hoped that they would have the energy to stand by her all over again. Maybe he should warn them in advance?
Steven made a decision. He would not ask Sci-Med to send along strangers to tell Charlotte Little. He would go to Norfolk and tell her himself. At least he appreciated how strong the evidence against her husband had been and understood why she had had no alternative but to believe that her husband was guilty — after all, he himself had been convinced of that at the outset. He hoped that he’d be able to reassure her that she shouldn’t blame herself. Telling her that her Little had AIDS was however, going to be something else entirely.
Next day, with his final report finished and submitted to Sci-Med and his request for a few days leave granted, Steven arranged for flowers to be sent to Susan Givens and Samantha Egan, with a note of thanks to each. He handed back the keys of his rented car, checked out of his hotel, and returned to London on an evening BA shuttle. Once there, he went directly to his flat to spend the night before driving up to Norfolk in the morning.
As always, when he opened the door of his flat after being away for a while, he was struck by the still, silent, cold of the place but he quickly headed off maudlin thoughts of times past by switching on the lights and turning on the heating and television to provide warmth and noise as quickly as possible.
There was no food in the fridge or bread in the bin but his trusty stalwarts, gin and tonic were available so he downed a couple before heading out to pick up some Chinese food from the Jade Garden. A supermarket trip could wait until he came back from Norfolk. He ate the food in front of the television while he caught up on the news and gave the water heater time to do its job.
The Channel 4 news at seven reported the arrest of a sauna owner in Edinburgh for the murder of a prostitute found dead on the shores of the Firth of Forth. He’d been charged along with two other men who were also thought to have been implicated. The sauna boss was also under investigation over his involvement in the running of an international pornography ring and further charges against him were pending.’