Falling Fast

by Neil Broadfoot

  Ann Bryant’s face tensed as she studied the photograph. ‘Where did you get this?’

  Doug cleared his throat, shifted in his seat slightly. Good question. ‘It was sent to me,’ he said simply. ‘I take it you recognise the people in it?’

  ‘Yes, yes I do,’ Bryant said, eyes flitting between the photograph and the blow-up. ‘So, tell me Mr McGregor, why am I talking to you instead of the police?’

  Doug felt his cheeks burn. ‘Ah, well. I’m sure you will be in due course. But, as I said, I was sent that photo first. I guess I’m just a little ahead of the police on the follow-up.’

  Bryant handed the photos back to Doug. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing I can tell you.’

  ‘Can’t or won’t?’ Doug asked. ‘Look, Ms Bryant, it’s you in the photograph, I know that’s Katherine Buchan with Derek McGinty. Believe it or not, I’m not just trying to get a story here. I really want to know what’s going on.’

  ‘That why you got those bruises, sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted?’

  The threat echoed in Doug’s mind. You’ve been asking questions about Derek McGinty. It stops, now. ‘You could say that.’

  Bryant studied him for a moment, as if trying to make a decision.

  ‘Look,’ Doug said finally, putting aside his notepad and pen. ‘Off the record, okay? I promise I won’t print anything you tell me here. But please, if there’s anything you can tell me about Katherine or her work here, I’d like to hear it. It might help answer a few questions.’

  ‘Off the record?’ Bryant asked, eyes not leaving Doug’s. He nodded slowly. Not the way he would have liked it, but if it was the only way to find out what was going on, he would take it. God knows what he was going to tell Walter, though.

  ‘And I take it you’re going to publish this anyway, whether or not I talk to you?’

  ‘Unless you can tell me something that’s going to change my boss’s mind, yes.’

  Bryant sighed heavily, stood up and made for a door on the other side of the office. She opened it to reveal a small kitchenette. ‘You want a coffee?’ she asked.

  Doug felt a wave of relief. ‘Please. Black.’

  Bryant reappeared with two mugs of coffee, placed one in front of Doug and then settled back into her seat. She took her time getting comfortable. ‘Firstly, if I see one word of what I tell you in print, I’ll sue your paper to the ground.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Doug said, willing her to stop stalling and get to the story. He sampled the coffee. Weak and warm, like her handshake.

  ‘Alright then,’ Bryant said, cupping her mug in both hands and looking into it as if she would see her next sentence there. ‘The first thing you need to know is that you’re wrong on two counts, Mr McGregor.’

  Doug raised an eyebrow.

  ‘The woman in that photograph is not Katherine Buchan. And she wasn’t a worker here, Mr McGregor, she was a client.’

  34

  Hal had his phone tucked into the crook of his neck as he packed his case, vaguely aware that Jonathan was hanging around at the door to his room, looking for all the world like a little boy watching Daddy pack for yet another long business trip away from home.

  Hal know the look well enough. He had spent his own childhood perfecting it.

  In his ear, Eddie Hobbies from Tory HQ in London was asking the same question for about the fifth time. Ever the politician, he had varied his approach each time. He had tried challenging, disbelieving, straightforward and dispassionate so far. Now he was trying for flattery.

  ‘Look, Hal, I trust your judgment – we all do, that’s why you got the job in the first place – but are you sure? Isn’t it too soon? Surely you should stay there for a few more days, see how it plays out?’

  Hal tossed a shirt into his case. Left it unfolded deliberately, looking forward to the rolled eyes and mocking disapproval Colin would subject him to for packing so sloppily. God, he couldn’t wait to get home.

  ‘Eddie, I’m sure,’ he said. ‘The party’s involvement in the story is almost tangential now. Buchan has agreed to a leave of absence. He didn’t like it, but he’s swallowed it now, knows he doesn’t need the press interest.

  ‘Anyone asks, they know not to comment any further. If they carry his Bill through parliament, they’re doing it in his name because it’s what Richard would want. If they decide the Bill’s too hot to touch, which is my advice by the way, then they’re letting it fall because it wouldn’t be right to try and get it through without Buchan being there to be a part of it. Win-win, either way.’

  Eddie demurred on the other end of the line, tried his old trick of coughing to stall for time. Hal took advantage.

  ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘I can monitor the press from home as easily as here now, and if anything does go tits up, Jonathan can be my hands on the wheel here. You should keep an eye on him, Eddie, he’s a bright one.’

  Jonathan flashed a smile so wide it was almost genuine. Colour crept up into his cheeks as his eyes widened and he gave Hal a silent, overly enthusiastic thumbs up. God help the kid, Hal thought suddenly, he could be a future prime minister.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ Eddie replied, sounding like a kid being told this was the last story of the night before bed, ‘when will you be back?’

  Hal glanced at his watch, made a quick calculation. ‘Should be later this afternoon. You want to meet up this evening, talk it over then?’

  ‘No, that won’t be necessary, Hal. You get home, see your family. We’ll talk in a few days, settle your fee. There’s also another matter we could use your help on – long-term contract, right up to the next election.’

  Hal smiled, fought back the urge to punch the air. ‘See you in a few days then, Eddie,’ he said.

  ‘Look forward to it, Hal. Oh, and good work.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Hal replied. Glanced at Jonathan. ‘But it was a team effort.’

  35

  Susie got in touch just as Doug was drawing into a parking space outside his flat.

  ‘Hey, Doug, it’s me. I got your message, what’s up?’

  ‘Hey, Susie. Where are you right now?’

  A pause on the line. Still wary. ‘On my way to an appointment,’ was all she said.

  ‘If it’s with Richard Buchan, don’t bother,’ Doug said. ‘We need to talk first.’

  ‘What? Oh Christ, Doug, now what have you done?’

  Doug closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. There was no way around it, he was going to have to tell her. Now. ‘Look, you know that photograph…?’

  ‘Yes?’ A pause. Doug could almost see her chewing her lip. ‘What about it?’

  ‘Well, I found out a little more about it, found one of the other people in it with McGinty and Ka…’ He caught himself. Not yet. ‘Katherine.’

  ‘What?’ Susie’s voice was so sharp Doug had to pull his mobile from his ear. ‘You just couldn’t leave it, could you? Do you know how much shit you’ve already stirred up for me?’

  ‘Look, I know. I’m sorry. I tried to call you this morning, but your phone was off.’

  ‘I was at the mortuary,’ Susie snapped. Doug imagined the bodies there were warmer than her tone.

  ‘Look,’ he said, talking quickly now. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve fucked things up for you. Really, I am. But I’ve got to speak to you before you talk to Buchan again. I’ve found some things out that you need to know.’

  ‘Well? Tell me, then.’

  ‘Not on the phone. Meet me at my flat.’ He glanced at his watch, worked out routes from Edinburgh to Musselburgh in his head. ‘Say twenty minutes?’

  ‘Come on, Doug, cut the crap. If you’ve got something to tell me, just tell me. Enough of the games, okay?’

  Doug chewed on his lip. Tell her now or not? ‘No,’ he said finally. ‘Not on the phone. My flat, Susie, twenty minutes. And believe me, you’re going to want to hear this.’

  He cut the line before she had a chance to argue.

  • • •


  Even the buzzer sounded impatient. Doug hit the entry button, heard the door to the tenement bang shut as Susie’s footsteps click-clacked up the stairs. He opened his door before she had a chance to knock.

  ‘Look, Doug, I’m not too…’ her words trailed off as she caught sight of his face. ‘Bloody hell, what happened to you?’

  ‘You should see the car,’ Doug said, ushering her in and slamming the door behind her. Taking a moment to check the locks. He saw the confused look on her face. ‘Look, I’ll get to it. You want a coffee?’

  ‘Yeah, okay,’ she said as she made for the living room and took a seat. She wanted to be pissed at him, knew she should be, but seeing him like that made it difficult to stay mad. Damn it, why was she always letting this guy manipulate her?

  She heard cupboards clatter in the kitchen, the click of the kettle as it boiled. ‘You want any help?’

  ‘Nah, I’ll be fine,’ Doug said. His voice was tense, anxious. What had he found?

  He came through a moment later with two mugs of coffee, set Susie’s down on the table in front of the couch and then eased himself into his chair. She saw him wince as he moved.

  ‘You going to tell me what happened to you?’ she asked again.

  ‘Got a little warning last night,’ he said, sipping his coffee. Too hot. ‘Guy jumped me outside, told me not to poke around Derek McGinty any more. Gave me a couple of digs and the car a new sunroof to make sure I got the message.’

  Susie leant forward, eyes widening. ‘Jesus, Doug, why didn’t you call me?’

  He smiled slightly. ‘Didn’t think we were speaking,’ he said. Saw her shift uncomfortably in her seat as colour filled her cheeks and added: ‘Honestly, it’s nothing. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘So,’ Susie said, breaking the awkward silence, ‘what’s so important?’

  ‘First, a question,’ Doug replied as he tried to get more comfortable in his seat and take the weight off his aching side. ‘What was it you found yesterday that you wouldn’t tell me?’

  Susie scowled at him. ‘Don’t tell me you got me all the way here so you could try and get another line out of me? Come on, Doug, I really don’t need this at the moment, especially with the crap Burns is giving me.’

  ‘It’s not like that,’ he said. ‘Really. But I need to know. I think I know what all this is about. I think you found something that either put McGinty at the Scott Monument or gave him a damn strong motive for being there, right?’

  Susie studied him closely, felt a sudden, stupid urge to reach out and take his hand as she saw pain kaleidoscope across his face. How badly had he been beaten last night?

  ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Tell me what you know, Doug. I’ll tell you if you’re right.’

  ‘Okay,’ Doug sighed. It hurt too much to argue. ‘Okay. Like I said last night, when I got that photograph of McGinty and Katherine, I had our picture editor scan it into the system.’

  Susie nodded. She didn’t want to talk about the photograph.

  ‘Anyway, I also asked Terry to see if he could do anything about the picture, maybe give us a clue about where it was taken.’

  Susie sat back in the sofa. ‘And it did, right?’

  ‘Right. Turns out Terry knew one of the people in the photo, Ann Bryant. She runs a community group in Niddrie.’

  Doug saw Susie turn the information over in her mind, trying to see where it fit.

  ‘I spoke to her about an hour ago, right after I called you to let you know what was going on.’ Susie shot him an arch look. He shrugged. ‘Anyway, after a bit of persuading, she told me a story.’ He dug his copy of the photograph out of his pocket and passed it to Susie, ignoring the roll of her eyes. He had been sent the picture, did she seriously think he wasn’t going to copy it before handing it over?

  ‘That was taken in April 1992,’ he said, ‘back when the Niddrie Community Awareness Programme was the East Edinburgh Dependency Care Unit.’

  ‘Dependency care? As in drug abuse?’

  Doug nodded slowly. ‘Exactly. At the time, the unit was run out of one of the old tenements in Niddrie. It was used as a day-care and hostel centre for recovering drug addicts.’

  ‘So Katherine was working there?’

  Doug smiled. ‘Not quite. Ann said she was one of the patients.’

  Susie’s eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. Doug felt a flash of guilty satisfaction. She had recently stunned him into silence with a mind-blowing snippet of information, so it was only fair he repaid the favour.

  ‘Shit,’ Susie whispered. ‘Katherine Buchan was a drug addict?’

  ‘Yup. Heroin, apparently. Pretty heavy user too, if what Bryant said is true. Oh yeah, and one other thing. You’ll never find any of this in her records. Nobody at the unit knew her as Katherine Buchan. She was registered there as Katie. Katie Milton.’

  Susie felt as though the room was beginning to spin as it did after a big night out. Katherine Buchan was a drug user who was at an addicts’ clinic under an assumed name. It sounded fantastic, insane… but…

  But it also made perfect sense. The daughter of a prominent lawyer and rising political star gets a drug problem and then sorts it out under an assumed name so dearest Daddy’s career and image as a wholesome family man is never tarnished.

  ‘H… hold on,’ Susie said, glancing down at the photo again. ‘So, how does Derek fit into all this?’

  He shrugged slowly. ‘That’s where it falls down,’ he said. ‘Ann’s not sure. He visited from time to time, was always very friendly and helpful, apparently. Seems he and Katherine – sorry, Katie – struck up a bit of a relationship.’

  Susie leaned back in the couch, covered her eyes with her hands. Oh yes, Doug had been right. This was certainly going to change the way she was going to talk to Richard Buchan.

  It all added up. MSP’s daughter see the papers, realises the recently-released rapist everyone is so keen to track down knows her from her days as a drug addict. Said rapist has no job prospects, no cash in the bank, nothing to fall back on…

  Except his friend Katie, who would pay anything to keep Daddy’s name from being dragged through the mud. £5,000? Susie was surprised McGinty hadn’t asked for £5 million.

  ‘You think her parents knew?’

  Doug shrugged. ‘I don’t know, maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time a politician has tried to sweep a dirty secret under the carpet. It’s worth looking at, anyway.’

  ‘That your next move?’

  ‘Nope,’ Doug said, getting out of his seat, wincing as he stretched. ‘That’s your job. Me, I’m going to take a closer look at Derek McGinty.’

  ‘Huh? Why?’

  ‘Because whoever it was that had a go at me last night wanted to make sure I didn’t find something. It might be this, it might not be. McGinty was into a lot of dodgy shit in his time, I want to make sure I’m not missing something. And I get the feeling I am at the moment.’

  ‘Oh, like what?’

  ‘I don’t know. Just a…’ He turned to stare out of the window, as if looking for the answer. He didn’t find it. ‘I don’t know. But I will when I find it. Anyway, you going to tell me what you found out yesterday, or what?’

  Slowly, Susie told him about the £5,000 withdrawn from Katherine’s account on the day she died. As she spoke, she could see him adding it to what he already knew, coming to the same conclusions she did. When she had stopped speaking, he pulled a small piece of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Ann Bryant’s phone number. I know you’re going to have to see her and go through all this again, officially. She’s waiting for your call.’

  Susie smiled. ‘Thanks, Doug. Look… you sure you’re okay?’

  ‘No,’ he answered, a crooked smile on his face. ‘But I’m a lot better now I know all this.’

  Susie got up, drained her coffee. ‘I better get going. I’ve got a few people to see.’

  ‘We okay, then?’ The naughty schoolboy a
ct was back.

  ‘Yeah, we’re okay. On one condition.’

  ‘Oh, what’s that?’

  ‘Next time you get beaten up in the middle of the night, call me, okay?’

  ‘Why, you going to come charging to my rescue?’

  ‘Nah,’ she said, opening the front door. ‘But I might give the guy a loan of my pepper spray.’

  Doug slammed the door in her face. She could hear his laughter as she headed for the stairs.

  36

  When Doug had first called saying he had to tell her something, Susie had resigned herself to the fact her day was going to be messed up. She phoned Buchan, who was expecting her at his home in Stockbridge and told him she would have to postpone their appointment, apologising profusely and citing ‘unavoidable business’, which she thought was a fairly accurate description of Doug at times.

  Buchan said he understood. His tone of voice said he didn’t like it.

  Heading back into town from Doug’s, Susie phoned Buchan’s home. She was just about to hang up when Linda Buchan answered.

  ‘Hello?’ Her voice was still blank. Susie wondered if her doctor had doped her up with something.

  ‘Mrs Buchan. It’s DS Drummond here. I was wondering if I could have a word with your husband?’

  ‘He’s not here.’

  ‘Oh. Can you tell me when he’ll be back?’

  ‘No.’ The coldness in Linda Buchan’s voice made Susie shudder. It was unnerving. ‘He said he was going up to the court to pick up some papers.’

  ‘Would that be the High Court on the Royal Mile?’

  ‘Yes.’ Voice fading now. She was losing interest in the call. ‘It must be.’

  Odd, Susie thought. The day he announces he’s taking a leave of absence from his political career to focus on his family he abandons his wife to go work at the courts?

  Susie made her thanks then ended the call, glad to be away from Linda Buchan’s toneless voice. She wondered how much more the woman could take before she had a complete breakdown. Everything Doug had just told her wasn’t going to help.