Windsor Place

by Russell Robertson

  Raffles called from the back of the room “One question we would all like an answer to is what leads do you have then?”

  “We are pursuing some solid leads but at this stage they remain confidential until we can substantiate them. Let me assure you that we are making progress.”

  “I don’t think anyone on Planet Earth would agree with that. We’re not seeing any evidence only your investigative imagination,” was Raffle’s final comment.

  “Thank you. And on that point, consider the conference closed,” DCI Scully announced.

  The media conferences were meant to please all and sundry. This one had failed miserably on that count. There were sure to be a few truth bombs going off in head office.

  Chapter 36

  Once the formalities for the recording of the third interview were complete, Scully opened the proceedings, “Mr. Cram, we would like to ask you some more questions following on from our last interview.”

  Harry was just as nervous as he was at the last interview and still found it strange having to deal with his best friend on a formal basis. He guessed that there had been numerous behind the scene discussions as to whether there was a conflict of interest here. His friend would no doubt have convinced his bosses that this would be more an advantage than a hindrance during any interview. They would probably have had to concede that he may well be right.

  “Anything I can do to help, but I’m not sure there is anything I can add to my previous comments,” Harry replied.

  “We will be the best judge of that Mr. Cram,” was Spencer’s introduction.

  He nodded. “Okay, top of mind for me from the last interview is why you choose to drive to Sixty-Six Windsor Place from your apartment when it is less than a five-minute walk, can you explain why you would do that?”

  He covered his mouth as a nervous cough slipped out. “Simple. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. It can be dangerous to be predictable, so parking my car at different streets and walking only for a few minutes changed my routine, just in case anyone was trying to follow me.”

  “And who would that anyone be?”

  “Obviously, I was concerned that Alf Hunter would be keeping an eye on his wife.”

  “Is that why you always went there after dark?”

  “Yes. I always entered after dark and left before dawn.”

  “Did you ever visit Carole Hunter at any other time at her home other than Friday evening or Saturday morning.”

  “No.”

  “Did you ever meet her anywhere else?”

  “No, it was too dangerous. That’s why we often used Skype.”

  “Mr. Cram, why did you not tell us at the last interview that Sixty-Six Windsor Place used to be your family home?”

  “It was my family home, but that was over thirty years ago, I didn’t think it was relevant.”

  “You visit your old family home and find three people dead and you didn’t think it was relevant?”

  “No, and I have five simple words for you. I did not kill anyone.”

  “Mr. Cram, where were you between five o’clock on Saturday evening and nine o’clock Sunday morning?”

  “You mean last weekend?”

  “Yes, last weekend.”

  “I arrived back at my apartment at around three o’clock on Saturday afternoon after a drive out to South Queensferry to walk around the local shops and didn’t leave my apartment until Sunday morning around eight o’clock when I went for a stroll along the promenade.”

  “Do you have anyone who can vouch for that?”

  “What for the stroll?”

  “For both the strolls and the time you were in your apartment.”

  “No, I was alone in the apartment all night and I can’t remember seeing anyone I knew on my walks. Can I ask why you are interested in what I was doing then?”

  “At the moment, we are investigating the death of the well-known solicitor Reginald Buchanan. And as he was Carole Hunter’s solicitor, there may be a connection to her death and therefore we need to ask you some questions.”

  He continued. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Buchanan?”

  “I have never met Mr. Buchanan.”

  Spencer re-joined the interview. “Never?

  “I knew of him but I have never met him.” I knew that he was Carole’s solicitor.”

  “And the solicitor representing Alf Hunter?”

  “I assumed that would be the case, but I can’t be sure.”“Mr. Cram, I think it would be wise to be extremely careful where you go and who you talk to. If Alf Hunter is behind these killings then your association with his wife may have you involved and your life could be in danger. Whoever carried out these killings may think that you have some information that could be harmful to them.”

  Harry thought about the last comment and decided not to respond.

  “Okay, that’s all for now,” said Scully as he turned off the recorder and concluded the interview. “You are free to leave and thank you for your co-operation. DI Spencer will see you out.”

  As he left Portobello Police Station for the short walk back to his apartment, Harry could not help feeling that the police thought he knew something about the case that they didn’t. Maybe they were right.

  Chapter 37

  This visit to the prison would be less pleasant than the previous time as Alf Hunter would not appreciate a second visit from the pigs and neither would the inmates, but Spencer and Darling were experienced enough to deal with any possible issues that may arise.

  It had been a wild and windy night and today was negative five, so the car heater was on full blast as they drove along Dalry Road in Gorgie on their way to the prison.

  “You still support that lot Andy?” Craig pointed towards Tynecastle Park as they passed the ground.

  “Yes, Craig. Better than that shifty lot from Leith.”

  “Well, Saturday’s derby will see the best team win and I look forward to taking a tenner off you then, my dear Andy.”

  “No chance.”

  Craig switched the conversation to the task ahead. “I am positive that Alf Hunter will be quite hostile today, so we need to stay calm. We need to observe his reaction to our questions of the death of his solicitor.”

  “You want me to play the dumb waiter today?”

  “You got it in one. Seeing as you are suffering from the flu and shouldn’t really be here. He’s easier to deal with if he only has to concentrate on one person.”

  The turn off on the left to the prison was upon them so they indicated and turned into the prison driveway and then parked in the visitor’s area, locked the car and walked towards the entrance in the cold drizzle and wind. Not a pleasant day at all.

  “The Governor must be busy today,” Spencer commented as they went through all the normal procedures except meeting the Governor before their meeting with Alf Hunter and quickly found themselves in the interview room alone awaiting their resentful guest.

  They sat in silence for a few minutes before the door opened. Alf was grinning as he was lead to the vacant seat by the prison officer who winked at Alf before he left them alone in the room.

  Alf didn’t waste any time. “Just had a lovely bacon roll, have you? I can smell it in the air.”

  “If you are going to throw shit at us then come up with something more original than that Alf.” DI Spencer replied

  “You said one visit was suffice. On my count, this makes it two.”

  “We said one visit on the matter of your wife’s and children’s deaths. We are here on another matter that you might be able to shine some light on.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, what you can tell us about your association with Reginald Buchanan?”

  “As criminals, we are ranked rather than linked in society. Cut the crap, I know about his demise. You can’t keep that sort of news away from this place.”

  “Then I’ll rephrase the question. What can you tell us about his demise as you put it?”

  �
��Can’t tell you anything, except I heard through the prison grapevine he had died. Piece of advice for you sleuths. When all else fails read the directions.”

  They both ignored the cryptic advice.

  “Then the prison grapevine would have told you how he died then?”

  “No, tell me how did he die?”

  “We can’t go into those details right now.”

  The atmosphere was tense to say the least and Alf Hunter was playing it tough as they expected. He was also looking decidedly nervous, something they hadn’t seen in him before.

  The door to the main prison suddenly swung open and the officer who had brought the prisoner in called out “Five minutes left gentlemen.”

  Obviously one of Alf’s friendly officers who had this pre-arranged.

  “What business dealings have you had with Reginald Buchanan’s business partner Crawford Mills?” DI Spencer continued.

  “Only met him a few times in the office when he was required to witness a signature. Apart from that all my dealings with the firm were with Reg Buchanan.

  “So, you never met outside the solicitor’s office?”

  “Never, what else do you want to ask? I’m getting very hungry.”

  “What can you tell us about your association with Dolly Dyson?”

  “Nothing other than the fact that he worked for me in the Gaylord Club a few years ago and he lives in Slaverville. What has that faggot got to do with any of this?”

  “Maybe nothing, but you have helped to confirm his connection with you and that may assist us in our investigations. You have been most helpful.”

  Both detectives could see that Alf realised that they had upset him and he became more uneasy.

  “I’m no grass, I just answered a question.”

  “Sure. One last question before we go. Anyone in here have a grudge against you that may lead to some sort of retribution?”

  “Not that I am aware of. Do you want to ask them?”

  “No. But I suppose you have an image to uphold.”

  “False people strive to present an image. Real people don’t give a fuck.”

  “It is our duty to ask these questions as we have received information that your life could be in danger.”

  “Everyone’s life is in danger in this place, I can deal with any situation and trust me, if what you say has some truth I would know about it.”

  “Maybe.”

  That single word riled Alf and at that stage he wanted to end the interview. He was to say the least, visibly angry. He looked as though he was ready to go off like a frog in a sock.

  He shook his head gently from left to right and at the same time licked his lips. A sign that he was about to explode.

  “Don’t even think about it Mr. Hunter,” DS Darling warned.

  “Okay if you have nothing more to ask I would like to return to my cell.”

  As though it was beautifully and coincidently timed the officer re-entered the room. “Five minutes are up gentlemen. Time for me to take the prisoner back to his accommodation.”

  “You seem to be a very angry person today. Mr. Hunter.” DI Spencer continued.

  “I’m not an angry person, I just have a violent reaction to stupid people.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hunter, for the information. You have been a big help to our investigations.”

  If looks could kill. Spencer would be dead.

  After the normal exit procedures, they sauntered towards the car park.

  “Jesus, I thought you said we needed to go easy on him, I thought he was on the verge of blowing up big time.”

  “What we do know is that he was lying about Dolly Dyson and his meetings with Crawford Mills. We also know that he is now concerned more than ever about his safety in the prison and that may lead him to making mistakes.” Spencer stated.

  “I agree on most of what you just laid out, but what makes you think he knows how Reginald Buchanan died?”

  “Andy, if you look at your notes you will see that when I told him about the death and said we couldn’t divulge the cause of death he didn’t pursue how he died. Don’t you find that odd? I think he knows how he died. What we have to do is join the dots to connect him.”

  Chapter 38

  ‘Rain is the lifeline of the outback as is blood to the body,’ Harry was thinking as he sat on the balcony watching the drizzling winter rain coming in from the sea horizontally and casting his thoughts back to weekends in the bush in the sub-tropical heat west of Brisbane. Such a world away from the current problems here in Portobello.

  Should he just let the police deal with the crime? Were he and his friends perhaps hindering the investigation? Should he have involved his friends?

  No, he owed it to himself and Carole and her daughters to seek out the truth. Where is the truth? It’s gone walkabout.

  The intercom pinged and he slid open the balcony doors and pressed the screen button to see Alex smiling at him. “Well, are you going to let me in or do I have to stand here and freeze?”

  He pressed the front door release button and waited at the apartment door to welcome her in.

  “Coffee?”

  “Love one, Harry.”

  “Sit out on the balcony then and I’ll bring the coffee and biscuits.”

  Alex noted the travel books on the coffee table as she made herself comfortable on the beach chair and looked out over the Forth. Was Harry thinking of going overseas?

  Maybe on a summer’s day this would be a great spot but on a miserable day like today, she decided that her semi-detached bungalow in Duddingston was a more comfortable choice.

  “There we go, coffee and a wagon wheel. Wouldn’t get that service in the Balmoral.” Harry offered as he slid through the small gap in the sliding balcony window.

  “Cheers, I need this.”

  “Alex, can I ask you, do you think we should continue our private investigation or just leave it to the police?”

  “No way. The station is over-run with investigations small and large and is also vastly undermanned, as is the entire Scottish Police Force. I would doubt that Scully could muster the staff that he would normally demand on a case like this. You could say they have a target but no missile.”

  “Good, my sentiments as well.”

  Alex sipped her coffee. “Thinking of a holiday?” as she pointed to the travel brochures.

  The intercom pinged again. “Better go and let Blair in, don’t want him freezing to death,” Harry quipped as he left the balcony without answering the question.

  “Hiya, Alex,” was the greeting from Blair.

  “Bit overcrowded and cold out there. Let’s move into the ‘war room’ as you guys call it,” Harry called out.

  Just as they were about to start the meeting Harry’s mobile rang and he answered. “Hi, Joltz. Has the mail arrived?”

  Harry listened to the answer. “That’s great, Joltz. Glad you received the information I sent. Look forward to catching up with you when you come to a conclusion. Any idea when that may be?”

  Harry stared out the window as he listened to the reply. “Sounds great. See you then.”

  “What would we do without our smart phones?” Harry mumbled. “I can still remember the days when I knew more than my phone.”

  Harry filled them in on his meeting with his prison contact at Saughton.

  “Jesus,” Alex groaned. “That sheds a different light on things. If Alf knew you gave his wife a lift home chances are that he would have you followed for a while. I don’t like the sound of that.”

  Blair added, “Harry, you need to be extra careful when you are out and about. In fact, I think you should strongly consider a long holiday until this case is solved or maybe even return to OZ.”

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m in this to the end,” Harry replied.

  Alex brought the team up to speed on her findings on the Dean brothers through her internet investigations and told them about the house-to-house carried out by the local plods and the re
sulting information about the white van spotted by more than one person.

  Harry asked Alex, “Any ideas on who the van belonged to or who used it that day?”

  “Not yet but I think we can safely assume that it was used by the killers.”

  Harry told the team about his meeting with the solicitor Finlay Bishop after the funeral.

  Blair offered his findings, “The backstreets of crime are very empty; seems like Alf Hunter has them all terrified.”

  Harry summed up. “Okay, we now know that Alf Hunter probably has had me followed. We also know that the Dean brothers may be working in tandem with him. What we don’t know is are the Dean brothers involved in this crime or is the timing of the business venture just coincidental? What we also don’t know is why his children were killed as well as Carole. Was this revenge or an error? If it is the latter, then the killers, if hired by Alf Hunter, are in serious trouble.”

  Blair asked Alex for her views. “Well, it’s pretty obvious that this was a professional hit which may or may not have gone wrong. In any case, it cuts it down to a handful of suspects. I have no doubt that Scully has already sussed that out and is now preparing a short list.”

  “Any ideas on who would be on the short list?”

  “Not now, but hopefully I will have some names for our next meeting.”

  Harry intervened. “I need to follow-up on young Finlay Bishop. I think he may have the answers to some of those questions but he doesn’t quiet realise that himself. After that I think I need to buy a carton of cigs for Sandy Hall. That should trigger some more information that could help us. I have no doubt about that. He is a crafty old soul and will drip feed us information at his discretion and timing. Remember, he probably hates Alf Hunter as much as anyone and he owes him one.”

  “Alex, can you delve a bit deeper into the Dean brothers and their business dealings and see if your contacts have had any luck coming up with names for Alf Hunters outside contacts.”