Evidence of Death

by Peter Ritchie

  Macallan smiled. Bell just couldn’t do serious.

  Baxter told Andy Clark that he’d be back later and that armed officers had already been stationed outside his room. Clark knew that he was going to have to answer for what he’d done, but he couldn’t live this way any more. The other truth he’d faced up to was that he was looking at a life of limited mobility. The doctors had been as honest as possible and he was already well aware that he had never been able to rely on brains – that physical ability was all he’d ever had – and he groaned quietly at the thought of his future.

  Kristina Orlova was recovering quickly and all she wanted was to face the man who’d hurt her so badly. She was finished with being abused by the worst kind of men and determined that a terrible chapter of her life was going to close, but first she needed the opportunity to look her attacker in the eye.

  Macallan arrived at the coordination centre and found the air crackling with the tension of the operations that were running towards a climax. Young was working in an office near to the centre and briefed them on the progress so far. It had been straightforward enough, but the traffic had been solid in Glasgow so the lorry and Martin had only just cleared the city on the M8 heading for Edinburgh. Macallan explained what had happened at the hospital and Young scribbled notes furiously, shaking her head at the revelations.

  ‘My God, this is unbelievable! I’ll come down to your briefing if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course – you need to be there, and we have a hell of a lot to do once we figure out where the bodies might be buried and where they were killed. It’s going to be another hour or so before Martin hits the city so we’ll nip down to Leith and get started. See you there.’

  The briefing room at Leith police station was crowded and Macallan filled her team in on the events of the morning. There were a few indrawn breaths as the story unfolded but Macallan knew that nothing had been solved. They had a story from Clark, but unless the rest of the Belfast team were going to sit down and confess they needed a lot more to wrap the case up.

  ‘Our priority is to identify the sites of the murders and the burial. We have a problem in that Clark is still in a lot of pain and we’re going back to see if the doctors would allow us to take him out under medical supervision to show us where it happened. Any questions?’ There were none and the only sound was Young, scribbling away as always.

  ‘We have a start because Clark has told us that the killing took place in Nelson’s old flat in Wester Hailes. I should qualify that because from what he told Grant we’re not sure that they were both dead when they were buried.’ She paused again, wanting the team to understand exactly what kind of people they were dealing with.

  ‘From what we know, a family of refugees have since moved into that flat so before we do anything we’ll liaise with the social-work department and try to get them to arrange them some temporary accommodation. We’re going to have to do a full forensic job on the flat.’

  ‘Welcome to Bonny Scotland,’ Baxter said without a trace of humour.

  ‘We’re going back up to the hospital to see what arrangements we can make. It’ll be tomorrow at the earliest before we can start on the sites, but I want you all to get cracking on the tasks you have in hand.’

  There was a murmur that told her that they all got it and were ready to move up a gear.

  Macallan had been putting off the last thing she needed to do before heading back to the hospital, but once the briefing was over she had no excuses left, so she called the chief super and told him she needed to speak to him urgently about the progress of the investigation. He sounded less than enthusiastic and said that O’Connor would sit in because of the problem with Donnie Monk. She told Baxter, who was heading back to the hospital, and said she’d see him as soon as she was clear of her meeting.

  ‘Best of luck. Don’t let him beat you.’ Baxter winked, but he was glad it was her rather than him.

  When she walked into the chief super’s office he was already sitting with O’Connor and sharing some kind of joke. She sat down without being asked and decided she hadn’t the time to piss about with them – she just wanted to get him up to speed with the story so far and then get back to her job.

  She briefed them as fully as she could and did her best to avoid eye contact with O’Connor, who sat quietly, leaving any questions to the chief super. When she was done with that, she told them that the surveillance operation was on course and going smoothly.

  ‘It sounds like Lesley’s doing a good job,’ the chief super said with a rat smile.

  ‘She’s doing a great job, sir, and I’m so pleased for her. She’s taking to it like the proverbial duck, and the guys like her.’

  That reply was not what the two men had expected. Well done, Grace – you got that one right, she congratulated herself as she watched the confused expressions spread across their faces.

  ‘What about Donnie Monk?’ O’Connor asked her politely.

  ‘There’s nothing else I can tell you apart from the fact that he’s done nothing on the investigation at the hotel so we’re starting it from scratch. He hadn’t even got a hold of the CCTV tapes so we’re on that now. Our guys have already started viewing and think they’ve got Nelson, but he’s wearing a brimmed hat and glasses. I’d appreciate it if you could leave Monk till we get the surveillance operation resolved so we don’t spook them.’

  ‘That’s no problem. He’s gone off sick and isn’t at home as far as we can gather. We’re already turning up evidence that’s going to get him prison time and the guy’s got some serious problems. There are going to be a lot of questions for the people who’ve supervised him about how they could have missed all this.’

  Macallan made her excuses to leave and felt she’d got off lightly, but as she reached the door the chief super had one last order: ‘This whole story has to be controlled as tightly as possible with the press so we’re going to let as little as we can out till we see how this story develops.’

  ‘Of course, sir,’ she said, immediately thinking: That’ll be fucking right.

  When Macallan left his office the chief super turned to O’Connor. ‘I thought you told me that Thompson would help us put Macallan in her place? Unless I’m mistaken, that is looking less than likely.’

  O’Connor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I’ll speak to Lesley when she’s finished this operation.’

  39

  On his way back to meet Fisher and McLean, Nelson stopped at a phone box and called his handler in Belfast, who answered on the second ring. ‘Hi, Billy. Everything is on track and they’ll be in the city within twenty minutes.’

  ‘Just make sure you call me the minute he’s on the approach to the car park,’ Nelson replied.

  ‘You’ll get it. I’m listening to it as it happens.’

  The surveillance team watched Nelson leave the phone box and head back to Stockbridge, where he met up again with Fisher and McLean. He bought a coffee and sat down beside them.

  ‘Any word yet?’ Fisher asked.

  ‘Shouldn’t be long now,’ Nelson said, avoiding eye contact.

  Jackie Martin drove past the Ingliston showground under a beautifully clear winter sky. The sun shone, and he was excited about his first trip to the capital city. It had been a long time since he’d felt so energised, and he realised that Belfast was draining the life out of him. The more he thought about it, the more he knew it was time to get out and try something new.

  He’d booked into one of the most expensive hotels in the city and the first thing he was going to do when they’d handed over the gear was get a couple of the best hookers his money could buy. And when he was done with them, he would have a good night out on the town.

  ‘It’s all fuckin’ good, Jackie boy,’ he said into the rear-view mirror.

  ‘Okay guys, everything’s in place and the arrest units are deployed in the car park, just waiting for us,’ Thompson relayed to the rest of her team, who were right up on their toes. They all knew that t
he danger time was at the end of the surveillance, when they were tired and one mistake could blow the whole operation. But they were focused and knew exactly how important the job was.

  Thompson called McGovern to ask what was happening at his end.

  ‘I don’t understand it. The three of them are still sitting drinking coffee. It doesn’t make sense, and this wasn’t in the script from Belfast,’ McGovern said.

  ‘Nothing we can do but go with what we’ve got. Keep you posted.’

  In the coordination centre Young scratched her head and chewed the end of her pencil. The news that Nelson wasn’t moving didn’t surprise her, but she wasn’t sure she knew why. Something had troubled her since the beginning of the operation, but it was like an itch she couldn’t reach.

  The traffic was as slow as every other day on Ferry Road and Martin had closed up behind the lorry as they approached the car park.

  At that exact moment Billy Nelson’s phone rang and the call came in from Belfast. ‘He’s arrived.’ Then it clicked off.

  Nelson said, ‘Jesus Christ!’ for effect, and looked like he was near to panic as he punched the number into his phone. Fisher and McLean watched, wondering what the fuck was going on.

  Martin was as sure as he could be that they were clear of any attention and manoeuvred into a parking space near the lorry. He thought that if the Peelers were about they would have moved in long before Edinburgh, so he stepped out of the car, walked towards the two boys who’d brought the lorry through and offered them a cigarette.

  ‘Where the fuck is Billy?’ he asked without too much concern.

  Suddenly his phone rang and he put it to his ear, surprised to hear Nelson’s voice.

  ‘I just got a call from the bent Peeler. They’re onto you, Jackie – get the fuck out of there.’

  The cigarette dropped from Martin’s lips as he looked round the car park, but it was already too late. The heavies were coming at them from all directions, and there were enough guns to reduce them to pulp. He screamed with rage and launched himself at the first cop to come within striking distance. There was no doubt about it, Jackie Martin went down fighting and only stopped struggling when he was exhausted. He spat and swore, his rage heated by the knowledge that he’d let a rat get to him – but how?

  As the arrest team dragged him into the back of the van he thought again about Billy Nelson. It had never felt right, but for the first time in his life he’d ignored his instincts, and it had cost him.

  ‘You’re fuckin’ kidding me!’ Fisher said in disbelief.

  ‘It was Donnie Monk. Just got the message, but too late to stop Jackie,’ Nelson said as Fisher stared into his eyes and wondered. ‘Let’s split up and keep our heads down for a couple of days till we see how the land lies. Don’t worry if you don’t hear from me for a bit.’ He got up and left.

  ‘Something stinks here, Rob. I’m telling you, we’ll all end up dead with this fuckin’ mess,’ Fisher spat before they went their separate ways.

  Across the street the eyeball had relayed the fact that Nelson had made a call and that the three of them looked panicked. McGovern called Thompson, who confirmed that the arrest had been made, and McGovern told her about the phone call.

  ‘Weird, Jimmy, because Jackie Martin got a call just as they were moving in for the arrest. I don’t get it.’

  ‘I’ll stick with Nelson, see where he goes next.’ There was a flatness in McGovern’s voice as he said this, because although Jackie Martin’s arrest was a great result, it looked like it was back to the drawing board with Nelson.

  Nelson walked slowly and calmly towards Inverleith Park then sat on a bench for a while, letting the winter sun shine on his face. There was warmth even though they were approaching the shortest day of the year.

  The surveillance team watched from the edges of the park: it was wide open so there was no need to be close to him.

  McGovern was getting even more agitated with Nelson’s actions. His supplier had just been taken out and he was acting as if he was on tranquillisers.

  Eventually Nelson strolled through the park and even played around with one of the dozens of dogs being walked in the sunshine. He came out of the east entrance, crossed the road and went into the Botanic Garden, over seventy acres of peace less than a mile from the heart of the city.

  ‘Do you want us to go with him, Jimmy?’ the eyeball asked.

  ‘Keep with him but stay well back. If you think he’s paying any attention to you just back off. We’ll cover all the entrances and make sure we can pick him up again when he leaves.’

  Nelson knew that the surveillance team would be behind him and that’s why he was there. It was time to get on with his payback. He wandered round the ground floor of the entrance building then headed upstairs to the first-floor restaurant to drink some coffee and sit on the veranda looking out over the gardens. He settled in there for over an hour and seemed perfectly at ease.

  McGovern called into the coordination centre and spoke to Felicity Young. Thompson still hadn’t arrived back in the office. Her team would have nothing to do with interviewing Jackie Martin and the two young men who’d driven the lorry through – a separate team of detectives had been briefed to do the business with them. Martin was still raging but he’d managed to get a hold of his lawyer, who was on his way.

  ‘The financial investigation team have found that Nelson drew out nearly eight thousand in cash this morning, Jimmy. It had been prearranged with the bank, and I’ve no idea what it means – unless he’s preparing to do a runner,’ Young said, still writing notes as she spoke.

  ‘I think you should run that past Grace to see if it affects her thinking.’

  ‘I will. The other thing is that the phone call Nelson was seen making just before the arrest was to Jackie Martin. But he received a phone call immediately before that, from an as-yet-unknown source.’

  The footman interrupted with a call that Nelson was leaving the building and on a walkabout in the gardens.

  ‘Got to go, Felicity, but speak to Grace.’

  Nelson was wandering aimlessly about the gardens and sitting down on a bench every few minutes, making it almost impossible for the footmen to keep with him without being seen on the long quiet paths. McGovern told them to withdraw to the entrance building and drink something till Nelson appeared again or left by another entrance.

  About 3.45 p.m. the sky was darkening and the Botanics staff began to close up shop for the day. The footmen had overstayed and left to be picked up by other surveillance cars.

  ‘Where in the name of fuck is he?’ McGovern said to no one in particular. He called round the cars but no one had seen him. A stream of visitors had left during the last hour of business and he was becoming concerned that Nelson had perhaps changed his appearance when he was inside the grounds and then slipped past them.

  He called Thompson and gave her the update.

  ‘Can’t think what else to do, Lesley. I guess we’ve missed him. It’s a big place and these things happen.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ she said, remembering how she’d felt after the loss at the hotel. ‘See you back here then. I think they’re going to start interviewing Martin shortly.’

  Nelson had settled down in a small copse near a boundary wall of the gardens. He would be invisible to anyone unless they tried to struggle in beside him. With his training it was an easy hide – something he’d done a hundred times in combat situations. His rucksack contained warm clothing plus some food to keep his energy levels up, and he intended to sit tight till he could be sure he was clear of the surveillance team. If he waited till midnight he could then slip unnoticed over the wall. His only problem was that his strength was failing, but he only had to stay there for a few hours.

  Slipping into the lightweight sleeping bag made him feel more comfortable, and it would keep the worst of the cold out.

  Thompson called Macallan, updated her on what had happened so far and told her they’d lost Nelson.

 
‘What’s happening with you, Grace?’

  ‘We had a bit of a struggle with the doctors and they want to wait another day before putting Clark in a wheelchair. That doesn’t stop us from doing the flat, but we need him to direct us to where they put Joe and Danny. He says the only way he can find it is by taking us there himself. The social workers have managed to find alternative accommodation for the family so we’re just waiting for the call from them before we can go in and get started at the flat. At this rate I think it’s going to be an early start tomorrow rather than tonight.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Think I might go and see Barry Wallace though. I wouldn’t mind a word with the man.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll see you there myself. Interested to see how they get on with him.’

  Macallan had figured out exactly what had happened. She’d played the dark arts long enough in the Troubles, but what she couldn’t work out was why it had happened, and Barry Wallace was the only one who might be able to answer that question.

  40

  Jackie Martin had been taken to Drylaw police station, where he was held for interview. No one had said too much to him and he knew the drill – they’d try to make him sweat a bit before the suits came in, hoping to get an easy admission.

  ‘Fat fuckin’ chance of that,’ he said to the empty room.

  It didn’t matter what he said to the room though – he was sweating and trying to work out just how bad this might be. On the plus side, the two meatheads who’d driven the lorry through were unlikely to implicate him. It could happen, but it was unlikely given his reputation regarding anyone who’d tried to sell him out to the Peelers in the past. He could make a complete denial about the contents of the lorry, and he had the best lawyers money could buy. If that was all they had then he might just scrape a result, so it wasn’t time to panic yet. The main thing was that his businesses in Northern Ireland, both legal and illegal, were not affected by what had happened in Edinburgh. He still hadn’t convinced himself about the rat. Nelson had to be the favourite though because he hadn’t been at the meet on time – and that stank to the heavens.