Windsor Place

by Russell Robertson

  “Do you think it was an accidental overdose?”

  “I doubt it. They were not known to take anything harder than whisky.”

  “As soon as we get the toxicology reports I’ll let you know.”

  “Good, I’ve got to scat. Keep in touch, Brian.”

  Chapter 75

  While all the halls in Saughton were isolated from each other, the exercise yard was shared by all. Bryson Kidd was feeling nervous as he jostled his way through the groups of prisoners. He knew something was about to go down, he was part of the act and he needed to be near Alf Hunter when it did.

  Alf Hunter was at the north end of yard, protected by a group of his henchmen. It was impossible to get near him but with the riot about to erupt it would give him the cover he needed.

  Bryson sat down at one of the doorway steps and started to roll a cigarette while keeping one eye on a small group of prisoners huddled together a few metres away. This was the group that would start the riot. He lit his cigarette and made sure that the chib he had made was sitting freely accessible under his sleeve.

  The screws were in groups of four, a protocol they adopted when they thought trouble was brewing.

  It was four o’clock and light misty rain was falling, it was getting dark – ideal weather. He knew that what he was about to do would most likely be his final act. He also knew it would help his son, Tony, and most of the crims in the prison hoped that he would be successful.

  A punch was thrown within the group. That was the sign.

  He let the chib fall down from his sleeve and grabbed it firmly in his right hand as he began to move quickly in the direction of his target. Bodies and punches were flying all around him. He ducked a couple of misdirected fists and he could see a couple of screws heading his way.

  He was now only a few metres from Alf Hunter who was backing up against the wall for protection. That way he only had to worry about what was in front of him. His cell mate Murphy was busy fending off an attack. Stanley, Billy and Kenny were in the middle of a small group ferociously throwing punches at anything that moved. This left Alf Hunter vulnerable and before he realised what was happening Bryson had lunged at him and thrust the chib deep into his neck.

  As he retreated he felt a sharp blow to his chest and then his legs gave way. He fell onto the concrete and started to lose consciousness, he looked down to see blood spurting from his chest. At this point, he realised that he wasn’t going to see St. Mirren anymore and his last thought before the final blackness was of his son, Tony.

  The prison hospital could not cope with the casualties as the elite riot squad was called in and ambulances were urgently dispatched from the Infirmary and Western General Hospital to deal with the overspill and those prisoners with life-threatening injuries.

  All nearby stations were put on alert and the prison was surrounded and secured.

  The six o’clock news bulletin reported the incident to a frightened public, letting everyone know that the authorities were now in total control. The prison was in lockdown.

  Harry was watching it all unfold on the news when Alex rang him. “You seen the TV?”

  “Yep. Watching it as we speak.”

  “My sources tell me that there are three dead and around ten in a serious condition.”

  “Any names yet?”

  “Not yet, but we think that Alf Hunter may be one of the seriously injured. It’s chaos here in the office. Got to go, talk to you later.”

  Harry wasn’t sure what to think. If Alf Hunter didn’t survive, would that mean that he was safe? He decided to keep watching the news updates rather than going anywhere tonight.

  Blair was the next to call. “You up to speed on what’s happening at Saughton?”

  “Sure and Alex has just called me as well. She will call back when she gets any fresh news.”

  “Keep in touch Harry and stay safe.”

  During the evening the news updates kept coming. There were three dead but no confirmation of names.

  Harry knew that the next of kin would be notified before any reporters or the public. This was unlikely to happen until tomorrow. So, he decided to call it a day and see if he could catch up on some badly needed sleep.

  Alex rang him early in the morning as he was sitting on the balcony listening to radio updates. “Harry, I've just heard that Bryson Kidd was one of the three fatalities in the riot. Rumour has it that he chibbed Alf Hunter in the neck and was then stabbed in the heart and died at the scene.”

  “Christ, poor Bryson. Did he succeed in killing him?”

  “It is believed that Alf Hunter is one of the prisoners in the critically injured category.”

  “Who were the other two?”

  “The White brothers. Billy and Kenny.”

  “Alf’s lieutenants. Thanks for the update, Alex.”

  Harry was sad. This was the third death in a week in his life. He could only assume that Bryson didn’t receive good news from the hospital scans and felt angry enough about what they had done to his son. He wanted revenge and had nothing to lose. He decided that what he needed was a long walk along the promenade to clear his thoughts.

  Chapter 76

  Harry sat in the lounge bar slowly sipping a pint of Guinness at the Ship Inn Hotel in Stonehaven, one of his favourite destinations in Scotland, or ‘Stone the Crows,’ as his father used to call it.

  Stonehaven was a popular holiday destination for many Scots. Harry’s parents took him and his sisters there on holiday for seven consecutive years when they were children.

  It brought back only good memories for him and was a welcome distraction from his current woes. He needed to recharge the batteries and he couldn’t think of a better place to get away from it all. He had taken the train up there in the morning and planned to return to Portobello the next day.

  It was a pleasant day so he decided to take his beer outside, where he could sit at one of the outdoor tables and look out over the scenic harbour.

  The boats were out at sea in one of the best fishing areas in the UK. They would return this afternoon with their catch of herring and prawns to be sold at the markets in Aberdeen.

  This was the best place in Stonehaven to relax and have lunch. There was hardly a ripple on the water in the harbour.

  It was peaceful, sipping a cold beer and watching with interest the tide about to come in and accommodate the late afternoon arrival of the local trawlers.

  The small boats in the harbour bobbed around like dinky toys as the kids played in the sand while their parents took time out. Seagulls milled around in small groups looking for morsels of food from some unsuspecting innocent child.

  After lunch, he took a leisurely stroll away from the harbour along the beach towards the Caravan Park and swimming pool complex where he remembered spending the summer days playing football and swimming in the Olympic-size heated pool. Summer’s then must have had good weather. As a kid, he didn’t feel the cold and loved the midnight swimming at the floodlit pool.

  The golf course up on the cliff top was his favourite place to be. He loved playing golf with his father and they played every day while on holiday.

  Harry never understood why his father would take him up along the path on the edge of the cliffs that led directly into the golf course rather than taking the easier track along the main road. It wasn’t easy climbing along the cliffs carrying a set of golf clubs each. His father must have had a reason for this but, to this day, Harry couldn’t fathom it. He decided at that moment to take the same journey up the cliffs.

  It was a pleasant climb without any golf clubs and twenty minutes later he reached the course. He opened the gate to the small graveyard just behind the eighteenth green and wandered past the headstones up to the clubhouse for a welcoming drink.

  Sitting in the clubhouse along with his memories, he gazed out to the ocean to see in the distance the ghostly shapes of the oil rigs in the North Sea. To Harry, they looked more like tiny matchstick models than gigantic masses of ste
el.

  After a couple of more beers and a chat with the local friendly barman, he left the clubhouse and returned back down the cliff path towards the beach.

  Cutting through the town centre on the way back to the hotel, he passed a giant-sized draughts board painted on the concrete in the town square. A couple of elderly gentlemen stalked around the board like tigers contemplating their next move. He stopped and joined the mixture of locals and tourists fascinated by the board and the combatants.

  Stonehaven had sentimental connections for Harry’s father, who’d told him that this was where he was stationed during the war. He recalled the days on the beach listening to his father tell him tales of the night training in the nearby mountains in freezing conditions before being dispatched to Belgium to fight in the war.

  Christ, we had it easy compared to our parents.

  It was a couple of quiet pints in the Royal Hotel for Harry that evening, accompanied by a pub sandwich and an early night. He was reasonably relaxed and ready for the train ride back to Edinburgh tomorrow morning.

  As he was getting ready to call it a day his mobile phone vibrated with a text from Alex:

  Enjoy your beer and your memories goodnight!!!

  Chapter 77

  There were two police officers guarding Alf Hunter’s hospital room and they looked as interested in their current task as they would be sitting in a dentist’s waiting room.

  Spencer and Darling approached them. “Good morning, PC McDonald and PC Gordon. Everything okay here?” Darling asked.

  “Nothing to report, sir.”

  “Good. Make sure no one, and I mean no one, comes in while we are in there talking to Mr. Hunter.”

  “Sir.”

  Alf Hunter was half propped up in the bed although he didn’t seem to be awake or aware that the detectives had entered the room. They had permission from his doctor to talk to him for a maximum of five minutes as he was still very weak. The room was dimly lit and the blinds were fully closed for privacy. The only sound was the breathing of the patient, the very soft piped music in the background and the occasional beep from the machines that were monitoring his vital functions.

  The doctor had explained that infection was his major concern over the next seventy-two hours. He was still in a critical but stable condition. It was amazing how hospitalisation could reduce such a large man to a fragile position and eradicate the fear that he portrayed simply by his presence. He didn’t look very menacing and in a way, Spencer actually felt for him.

  “Mr. Hunter, are you awake?” Spencer whispered.

  Alf Hunter never missed an opportunity to insult the police. “Only because I don’t trust the two people in the room.”

  “So glad to see that you are recovering. We have a couple of questions we need to ask you in relation to the incident in prison that landed you here.”

  “Don’t remember a thing.”

  “You don’t remember being chibbed by Bryson Kidd?”

  “No.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Only standing in the exercise yard having a fag. A fight broke out. Next thing I recall is waking up in here.”

  “You tell me what happened and how is Mr. Kidd?”

  “Mr. Kidd died of a single stab wound to the chest in the prison yard. He was announced dead on arrival at the hospital.”

  “What a shame.”

  “Do you want to apologise to his son then?”

  “Hmm … that would be like picking up a fork and stabbing myself in the eye. No. I’ll take a rain-check on that, if you don’t mind.”

  “Full scale riot erupted with a couple of your cellmates in a serious way in here as well.”

  “They’ll take care of themselves.”

  “Some didn’t make it though.”

  “Who would that be?”

  “Not at liberty to reveal that until their next of kin are notified.”

  “If you can’t remember anything more then there is nothing you can tell us. So, no point in carrying on this conversation.”

  “Pass me a banana. They remind me of all cops.”

  “Should I ask why?”

  “Yeah. They go in green and come out bent.”

  “Mr. Hunter, you’re living in fading glory. Are you aware that Nugget Reid had now taken over your franchise?”

  Darling and Spencer noticed the beeps on the machines increasing rapidly.

  “What did you just say?”

  “It’s okay, I think we better let you get some rest. We can come back and talk to you another day as you will be here for a while longer.”

  “Fuck you.”

  As the pair left the room they could hear the buzzer being pressed and felt the anxiety in the air they were leaving behind.

  “Jesus, that was pretty cruel, Craig. Poor bastard’s temperature will be pretty high on the Richter scale right now.”

  “You have to break an egg to make an omelette, Andy. He’s tough and his propeller of lies will keep on turning. He’ll survive and I can assure you he will want to talk to us. Right now, we are his only avenue to the outside world. Better to hurdle than hesitate.”

  “Very clever.”

  “I guarantee he knows what went down and revenge will be high on his agenda regarding Nugget Reid. He will assist us with our enquiries. What’s the bet he contacts us for another visit within days?”

  “Hope your right. But I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

  “I don’t.”

  Chapter 78

  As the staff gathered in the office for the impending final briefing, they would have noticed as they entered through the upstairs security door, that PC McDonald was still keeping up his humour and artistic talents in addition to his day job with a large photograph of Wayne Rooney of Man Utd displaying the caption. “What would they do if Jesus arrived at Old Trafford?” Scrawled underneath was, “Move Wayne Rooney to the right wing.”

  The superintendent was not in a good mood as he entered the briefing room in Portobello Police Station to address for the last time. “Operation Skippy” to a packed audience of disgruntled officers. Touch wood they wouldn’t be too angry. Everyone who had been involved in the cases were in attendance.

  “As you all know this is my last official case prior to my retirement, effective next month.

  “I am sad that we couldn’t close these cases and I personally appreciate the efforts of everyone in this room. It is evident that the underworld has closed ranks. However, there has been a crack in their defence with the recent riot in prison and what appears to be the subsequent removal of Alf Hunter as head of his crime syndicate. I have no doubt that leaks will flow and results will be forthcoming from the coup. Everyone here in this room has done the hard yards and I trust that the detectives who eventually solve the cases will remember that.”

  “However, what we do know, is as follows.

  “We suspect that the intended victims at Sixty-Six Windsor Place may have been Carole Hunter and her partner Harry Cram. The two daughters were collateral damage.

  “We suspect that Alf Hunter wanted both Carole and her partner dead and professional hit-men, possibly the Mason brothers from Dundee were hired to carry that out.

  “We also suspect that Carole’s solicitor Reginald Buchanan may have been holding some information for her that could have been damaging to Alf Hunter. For that reason, he too was taken out.

  “It has been confirmed that the Mason brothers died of a massive heroin overdose and that may well have been organised by Alf Hunter for their mistake in killing the two girls.

  “Alf Hunter appears to have linked up with the Dean brothers also from Dundee but we can’t link them to any of the murders although they were probably the conduit to hiring the Mason brothers.

  “Dolly Dyson appears to be just a silly old gay with a small supporting role for Alf while he is in prison. There really is no crime there.

  “We haven’t uncovered any motive for Bryson Kidd to attempt to murder Alf Hunter, an
d suggest that it may have been an in-house dispute over drugs.

  “There has been a suggestion that a mole is in here passing on information to the underworld. That again is unproven.

  “There we have it. In a nutshell, a lot of supposition but no solid evidence. However, plenty of ammunition for the new team to secure a result.”

  There was an atmosphere in the room that you could cut with a knife as the Commissioner stepped up to the microphone.

  “Thank you, superintendent. I think the summary of what you have just heard is accurate and I don’t need to tell you people that there are of course many other crimes to solve and we all need to be pulling in the same direction to achieve results. This is one of the best stations that I have had the privilege to visit and I know that the superintendent has high regard for all the staff who work here. I think that is backed up by the fact that in the last ten years there have only been a couple of new faces in the ranks.

  “Of course, we want to solve all crimes but that is not possible. Some cases are harder than others and some criminals are smarter than others. Sometimes it feels like we are chasing an ever-receding finishing line with dark shadows creeping up on us.

  “Once again, I thank everyone here for their efforts and I am extremely confident that the new team will close in on the perpetrators sooner rather than later. The meeting is now officially closed and ‘Operation Joey’ is now open.”

  Chapter 79

  “Fancy a beer or a wine or maybe a champagne? Seeing it’s my last drink in the best pub in Portobello?”