For The Death Of Me

by Jardine, Quintin

  The DCI nodded. ‘Okay. Since you were once one of us, you can do it. Have you forgotten that you and I were at the police college together?’

  I placed him then: Ollie Coffey had been on the same new entrants’ course as me at Tulliallan. A couple of years later he’d been selected for an accelerated promotion course and I’d been turned down. That was a close shave, I thought. If they’d picked me I might have wound up interviewing hoodlums in windowless rooms.

  Trevor Raymond was around the same age as me, but about three inches shorter and quite a bit lighter. His hair was close-cropped, he had heavy dark eyebrows and a tattoo on each forearm. His left cheek was red and swollen. I guessed that he had resisted arrest, or that one of Harvey’s brother advocates had got in a good one.

  They hadn’t chained him to the floor, but he was in a restraint belt and his ankles were shackled. As I stepped into the room, his eyes lit up with hatred and he tried to stand up.

  ‘I promised not to touch you,’ I told him. ‘I don’t advise you to make me break my word. You might be good but I’m better, you might be tough but I’m tougher, you might be strong but I’m stronger. Those aren’t boasts, they’re facts. Now, why the vendetta?’

  He spat at me, a good-sized gob, but he wound it up so I was able to dodge it.

  ‘Man, they’re filming this, and they’re angry at you as it is. The police like Harvey; you’re lucky you’ve still got the same number of teeth you woke up with this morning. What did Maddy tell you?’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘Hey, a response! When did she call you?’

  ‘Go and fuck yourself.’

  ‘Are you still in the army?’ He glared at me, but stayed silent this time. ‘Doesn’t matter, Coffey will have found out by now. Either way, you’re not any more. But you have had a call from her, yes?’

  ‘When I get out of here I’m going to fuck your wife.’

  ‘I don’t think so. One, the way you’re going your dick will be withered by the time you get out of here. Two, I employ a better soldier to protect my family than you’ve ever been. Three, you have got all this fundamentally wrong. Okay, I’m not going to ask you any more questions. I’m going to tell you stuff instead. The last time your sister was seen was on Monday, on an island called Dayang, which is, interestingly, and I will quote this fact to bored listeners for the rest of my life, not far from the island that they used as the fictional Bali Hai in my mother’s favourite movie, South Pacific.’ I’d clocked the camera by this time, top right corner facing me: I winked at it.

  ‘While she was there she killed a man called Sammy Goss. It’s technically not correct to say that Sammy was the last person to see her alive, because she shot him in the back of the head as soon as he stepped into the room, so he never saw her. Nobody will ever blame her for that, for Sammy was a very dangerous wee man. So dangerous, in fact, that he killed her boyfriend, Tony Lee, more or less right under my very nose.’ I could picture Coffey and Ross as they listened to this; I nodded towards the watching lens.

  ‘After killing him, she took the boat that he sailed in on, and that’s the last I knew of her, until you stuck your oar in. Now I know that she made it to the mainland and on from there. I know you’ve had a call from her, because last night you showed up in Pitlochry and gave her ex-boyfriend a gratuitous battering just because he admitted having spoken to me about her. Let’s say you spent half a day getting there. That tells me she probably called you yesterday morning. All I don’t know is where she was at that time. And I need to know, Trevor, because I am the only person who can save her life. I have no idea why she resents me, for I had agreed to give her a lot of money, but I don’t care about that. I just want to know where she is, or was yesterday morning.’

  He glared back at me. ‘I don’t know where you dredged all that crap from,’ he hissed, ‘but the only thing I will ever tell you is . . . fuck off!’ I was looking in his eyes as he shouted the last two words of advice, and I knew that he meant it.

  I walked behind him and leaned close, then whispered something, so quietly that no mike would have picked it up unless one of us had been wearing it, keeping my face off camera so I couldn’t be lip-read. ‘A promise. If you ever go near any member of my family again, I’ll have you killed.’ He twitched; that was all, but it was enough to tell me that he believed me.

  I straightened up and walked out of the room, waving goodbye as I closed the door behind me.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Coffey asked, when I rejoined him and Ricky.

  ‘The Triads are after Harvey’s ex, for reasons which to them seem pretty solid. Nobody outside this room needs to know that, though.’

  ‘What sort of a world are you living in these days, man?’ asked Ricky.

  I looked at him. ‘Listen, I’m supposed to be on my holidays. These things just happen to me.’

  ‘He had a mobile on him when we brought him in,’ said Ollie Coffey, thinking like a real policeman. ‘If it needs a password we’ll never get it from him, but I can access the information on it, one way or another. You guys go for a pint somewhere; I’ll join you when I’ve got it.’

  36

  In fact we went to the Western General, to check up on Harvey’s condition. Ellen was with him when we got there, having left Jonny in charge at St Andrews. He wasn’t with anyone: he was awake but dazed, and sedated on top of that. When he spoke, it was nonsense.

  At least he knew me when I walked into the small room they had given him. ‘Hello, brother-in-law,’ he said. ‘How are the fish?’

  ‘Fine,’ I replied. ‘I fed them before I left.’ That seemed to satisfy him, for he smiled and settled back into his mountain of pillows. I’d been right about the black eyes. They were well puffy already; in a couple of days they’d be prime shiners.

  Our Ellie was less easy to placate. ‘What is this all about, Oz? Why should someone attack Harvey like that? He doesn’t have any clients with a grudge. And how could it happen in there?’

  ‘Parliament Hall is a public room,’ I told her. ‘And it wasn’t a disgruntled client. It was his first wife’s brother.’

  ‘What? Trevor the bloody soldier? What could Harvey possibly have done to upset him?’

  I had hoped, against all hope, that Harvey had taken my advice and told Ellie the whole story. But clearly not: he might have faced up to some serious villains in the witness box, but my sister is a different story. He had bottled it and, in the process, put me right in the firing line. ‘Actually,’ I admitted, ‘it’s more me who’s upset him. He just took it out on Harvey. I’m just not sure why he’s gone off like that.’

  She took me by the elbow, as she used to when we were kids, and led me into the corridor, then looked me in the eye and said, ‘Right, spill.’

  It took me a while, but I told her everything, including the bits I’d left out to spare Harvey’s feelings. No, not everything: I didn’t tell her about Mike Dylan. To my relief, she didn’t rant, and she didn’t rave. She waited until I was finished, and then she shook her head.

  ‘You two,’ she sighed, ‘you’re just a pair of stupid boys. Okay, so a sleazy tabloid publishes an ancient photo of the new Lord January in his dad’s old robes with his cock hanging out. So what? He’s not a faggot Aussie actor playing a stud in a TV show, plus, the Supreme Court only acknowledges the existence of the tabloids when they’ve got one of their editors up before them for contempt, so how can it really harm him? He’ll be the laugh of the New Club for a week, and that’ll be the end of it. But, no, you and he had to take the whole thing seriously, and you wind up flying half-way round the world to buy the silly bitch off. Have you still got the fifty thousand?’

  As a matter of fact I had: it was in the knapsack, over my shoulder, although I wasn’t quite sure why.

  I decided it was time to mount a counter-offensive, to appeal to her soft side, wherever that might have been hiding. ‘We did it for you, you ungrateful hussy. Harvey wanted to spare you the embarrassment.’


  It didn’t work. ‘Why should I be embarrassed?’ She snorted. ‘Between you and me and anyone else who asks, I’m very proud of my husband’s chopper. Big improvement on the last one, I’ll tell you. You’re lovely lads, but you’re silly; I wouldn’t have minded that much.’

  ‘Whatever, it’s gone way beyond that now, though, Ellie,’ I pointed out. ‘Even if I hadn’t gone out there, she’d still be in deep trouble, and maybe dead by now.’

  ‘Agreed, so why’s her brother gone off the deep end at Harvey?’

  ‘I’m going to find that out when I trace the bloody woman.’

  ‘You might have a job doing that. She’s taken a scunner to you it seems.’

  ‘I’ll find her, sis. I’m going to save her bloody life in spite of herself.’

  ‘Well, when you do, tell her to come and see me. Mind you, she might prefer those Triangles to that!’

  As she spoke I was looking over her shoulder, at Ollie Coffey who had just turned the corner and was coming towards me. I introduced him to Ellie. ‘Have you got this thug well locked up?’ she demanded.

  ‘Yes, Mrs January, he’s for the court in the morning. I’ve been checking up on him too. Your husband was right, he was in the army for a while, second lieutenant in the Green Jackets, but he resigned his commission after a few years because he felt he wasn’t seeing enough action. Then, believe it or not, he joined the French Foreign Legion, and served there for eight years. Since then he’s been a freelance journalist, specialising in military matters. He’s popped up once or twice on television and radio news programmes as a quote, defence expert, unquote.’

  ‘Sounds like a fantasist,’ I said. ‘His old man was an adventurer and died on the job. Like father like son.’

  ‘What’s he being charged with?’ Ellie asked. ‘Attempted murder, I hope.’

  ‘With no weapon used we’d never make that stick. It can only be serious assault for now, but the Lord Advocate’s told the Crown Office to take a longer look. Legally speaking the attack happened within the confines of the court.’

  ‘What difference does that make?’

  ‘About five years, depending on the judge.’

  ‘That’ll do for starters.’ She left us and went back into Harvey’s room to send out Ricky Ross.

  ‘I’ve got something,’ said Coffey, when he arrived. ‘Raymond’s only had one call on his mobile in the last couple of days, yesterday morning as you thought, Oz. It was made from a callbox at the airport in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.’

  ‘She made it out of Malaysia, then, thank Christ. Can we find out where she’s going from there?’

  ‘Ouch!’ said Coffey. ‘That’s going to be a bit more difficult. It’s going to involve other agencies; I don’t know if I can do that.’

  ‘Come on, Ollie,’ Ricky cajoled him, ‘you’re Special Branch, you’ve got access. The woman’s brother’s just attacked a judge, and you’ve got evidence from Oz here that she’s been involved with organised crime in the Far East. You’ve got every reason to try and trace her.’

  ‘He’s not a judge.’

  ‘He will be inside a fortnight,’ I volunteered.

  ‘In that case, I suppose I can,’ he conceded. ‘Leave it with me.’

  We left it, and Ricky left me, promising to give me any feedback he got from Ollie. I found a pay-phone and called Susie, to reassure her that Harvey was going to be all right, and then I went back to Ellie. We stayed in the tiny ward for half an hour or so, until the consultant came back and told us that we might as well go since the patient would be dozing for the rest of the night. All being well, he promised (meaning if his brain didn’t implode during the night), he’d be able to go home some time the following day.

  I could have stayed in the Caley, but I’d seen enough of it. Instead I went to Fife with Ellie, to look in on Dad and Mary and give them the positive tidings (I didn’t give them any details about the attack: I said it was a random nutcase and that was all), and then to spend the night at her place in St Andrews.

  Every time I see my nephews, these days, I see a change in them. Jonny’s sixteen, and starting to fill out; he’s a big, good-looking boy, with a quiet self-confidence that never threatens to spill over into arrogance. Ellie says he’s like me at that age, so I’m glad he’s got Harvey around now to steer him along a conventional and responsible path. He seems to be serious about the law as a career; I’d rather see him being a pro golfer, but I hadn’t been bold enough to tell his parents that. Colin, the incorrigible imp of mischief that he’s been since he was born, has edged into his teens and, without anyone really noticing it, he’s quietened down. Of the two, it’s Jonny who’s the more outgoing now, and Colin who spends much of his time indoors, hunched over a computer. My fear is that he’s starting to turn into his father, the boring Alan Sinclair.

  Cooking wasn’t an option: I told Ellie we were all going out to eat. St Andrews was gearing up for the ritual of the Open Championship the following week, and already the place was full of golfers, journalists and fans. Somehow, though, I used connections to find us a table at the Seafood Restaurant, a relative newcomer to the old grey town, as Alex Hay loved to call it when he was in the BBC commentary box. Ellie was grudgingly impressed, but not half as much as later on, when Seve Ballesteros came across to our table and asked for my autograph. We swapped, and he signed the three other menus as well, plus a fourth for my dad. He still says that Arnold Palmer is the most exciting golfer he’s ever seen, but Seve gets my vote every time. Tiger? He’s on another planet; at his best he’s chilling. It’s like watching a trained assassin at work, killing golf courses.

  When we got home, the lads turned in. Colin was on the team that would man the main scoreboard at the Open, and Jonny had a caddying job next day, for a young American qualifier who’d come over early to get acclimatised. If they got on, there was the possibility he’d be hired for the championship. Bearing in mind that the previous two Opens had been won by inexperienced American qualifiers, I wished him luck.

  Ellie and I sat in the back garden when they were gone, just as we used to in our younger days, each of us clutching a bottle of beer. It was a warm, balmy night by St Andrews standards, and pleasantly cool by mine.

  ‘He’s going to be all right, Oz, isn’t he?’

  ‘Harvey? Of course he is: advocates are notorious for the thickness of their skulls, and QCs even more so. When they’re ready to go to the Bench it would take a road drill to get through one.’

  She laughed quietly. When she tones down the volume my sister has a beautiful laugh, just like our mother. ‘I’ll tell him that. Actually, I meant Jonny.’

  ‘Jonny? Why do you ask that?’

  ‘Ach, he’s torn, Oz. He wants to be like Harvey, and to impress him, but he wants to impress you even more. He wants to be like you too.’

  ‘Then send him to drama school, not law school. But better still, get him working on the golf so that in a couple of years he’ll be a candidate for a scholarship at an American university. He can study law there, then see what direction he wants to take.’

  ‘Golf?’

  ‘What are you going to do, Ellie? Tell the man what he’s going to do with his life? He won’t take that, and if you push it, you’ll wind up hurting you both.’

  ‘He’s a boy still, Oz,’ she protested weakly, with the voice of someone who had strained it shouting at the rising tide, ordering it not to come in any further.

  I took a sip of my Rolling Rock and looked at her over the neck of the bottle. ‘You’re talking like a mother, Ellie. He’s a man. Legally he can walk out the door tomorrow, get his own place, start a career, start a family. Sure, he’s still got some growing up left, but those are his rights now, at his age. You want to help him, then advise him: set out all the options for him, even fucking dentistry, whatever Dad says, and let him make his own choice. Once he’s done that, respect it, but while he’s making his mind up, impress on him that his final choice shouldn’t be what he thinks Harvey or I m
ight like him to do, but what he wants, in his heart.’

  ‘Jesus,’ she whispered. ‘Where did you acquire wisdom?’

  ‘Through long nights spent talking to Jan’s ghost.’

  She stared at me. ‘Funny, that. Me too.’ Of course, Jan was her sister as well; I wished I could tell her, but I know I never can.

  ‘Will you be all right, Oz?’ she asked suddenly.

  It was my turn to stare. ‘Hey, that sounds like what the bell-boy’s supposed to have said to George Best when he brought him and the latest Miss World room service. “Where did it all go wrong, Georgie?” I thought I was doing all right, thank you very much.’

  ‘Aye, you are, and you wear it well, too; you’re gracious. But there’s something eating at you.’

  ‘No,’ I protested ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘You’re fine and yet you’re not. Are you and Susie okay?’

  ‘Susie and I are perfect. I just . . . I wish I could spend all my time with her and the kids, but the life I’m in doesn’t allow for that. I wish I could be there now, but Fate says, “No way.” I’ve spent the last couple of weeks on a familiarisation course of Edinburgh’s two hospitals, and chasing around Singapore and Malaysia after an ungrateful fucking cow. I’m not blaming Harvey for that, by the way. If I was in trouble he’d be the first guy I’d go to for help, and I’d get it. But when I’m away I feel unsettled, I feel vulnerable, I feel . . . I can’t explain.’

  ‘Try.’

  ‘Okay, in Singapore I met this girl, Marie. She’s an actress and she helped me out with something. I liked her, we had a drink, and we had lunch together on Tuesday.’

  ‘And you . . .’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Let me finish. You wanted to but you didn’t.’

  ‘Ellie, I can’t even admit to myself that I wanted to.’

  ‘But you did, you were attracted to the woman sexually, and maybe it was there for you. You’re a man, for God’s sake, and your profession exposes you to some of the most beautiful women in the world, and occasionally exposes them to you, from what I’ve seen of your movies. You shouldn’t be ashamed that you wanted to have her. You should be proud that you didn’t.’