The Initial Blow

by Paul Vincent Lee

  Harris shrugged and turned to look at me.

  ‘Well Mr Ford, are you pleased that your client is now in the clear?’

  ‘Well, to be strictly correct, he isn’t........’

  ‘Well, don’t be.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ interjected Healy.

  ‘He killed his wife Kate.’

  I was beginning to think I was in some kind of dream sequence, some parallel universe. I looked at Susan and Healy, their states of mind not apparent.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘He was there. He saw Kate and I together.’

  A chill ran down my spine and seemed to shake my whole body. Again I looked over at Susan and Healy. They too were beginning to show signs that what was unfolding in front of them was impossible to take in. I looked back at Harris. He had kept looking at me, smiling. I somehow formed some words in my head.

  ‘You saw him there? You saw him kill his wife?’ My words somehow came out in a measured calm manner that belied my true mood. For me this was worse than Joe killing Julie.

  ‘Yes, I organised it. After Kate and I made love, I didn’t leave; I waited. I knew Turner would show up. It was dark and misty but then he appeared, quite dramatic in a way. I thought he would just freak a bit, hit her maybe but when I saw him stab her, I panicked and ran off.’

  Healy leaned over the desk. His face inches from Harris’s.

  ‘Look, you sniffling little fuck. Just stop talking in riddles and say what you’ve got to say in plain English.’

  ‘I knew Kate had had enough of Turner, knew she just needed help getting out, so I put that help in place. I made the arrangements to meet her, romantic setting etc, and then I wrote to Turner with the details. He was always a jealous pig so I knew he would flip when he saw us, probably resort to violence, but that would have been a small price to pay to win Kate.’

  ‘But Kate wasted it by telling you she had met someone else and it was you who flipped.’ Susan said.

  ‘In a way, but I did not kill her. Look why would I lie. I’ve admitted to killing two people and if it was just hatred of Turner, I would let him take the rap for Julie Connor as well. No, I want the truth out and punishment meted out to the right people for the right things; including me.’

  ‘But Turner knew you and Kate met up when she was over here. You weren’t telling him anything new.’

  ‘I elaborated on the content of our liaisons. Included some fake hotel bookings in the names Harris/Turner.’

  ‘What hotels?’

  ‘Moat House; Lorne; Cathedral House, The Ingram Hotel.’

  Susan and Healy glanced at each other. Susan looked flushed. I knew there must be a connection to the case.

  ‘In all the times you met up with Kate Turner over the years, did you ever sleep together?’

  Harris seemed to lose his calm demeanour, his confidence.

  ‘No.’

  We left the prison and drove to Coia’s Cafe in Duke Street on the way back to the centre; busy but with alcoves where you can talk privately and enjoy the best minestrone soup in Glasgow.

  ‘You can’t warn Turner’ said Healy as I sat down.

  ‘I didn’t intend to,’ I said.

  ‘It’s still not proof enough. Harris is a fucking nut job. I do believe him though’ said Susan.

  ‘How did you get on in Spain, Matt?’ I asked.

  ‘Fine, it’s him.’ Healy didn’t even look at me as he answered. I decided there and then that I was finished even trying to re-build bridges, that I didn’t even know I had damaged, with Healy.

  ‘Great. You say it, so it must be so.’

  Healy looked ready to explode. Susan raised a hand.

  ‘We’re all thrown by this; let’s just get on and do what we have to do.’

  I didn’t even bother ordering. I made an excuse about clients waiting, leaned over and kissed Susan, and left. I could feel Healy’s staring eyes in my back as I walked out the door. Just what was his problem? What had I done to rile him so much?

  Chapter 24

  Susan Dornan was in the office early the next morning. All the squad had been informed the previous day about Harris’ confession which, unlike Colin Banks’ confession weeks previously, was being taken seriously. The focus now was on confirming that Joe Turner was present on the river bank at the time that Kate Turner was killed and to go from there to linking him to the other Azrael killings. The problem of timing she had now was that, once Harris was charged with Julie Connor’s killing, she would have to inform Joe Turner that the charge against him was being dropped. This would inevitably mean he would get his passport back and head back to Spain before they had sufficient time to put a water tight case against him in place for killing his wife. She knew that, whether she liked it or not, she would have to seek advice from Matt Healy who she felt was becoming more distant by the day; and who still remained a possible, if somewhat improbable, suspect in the killings himself. Her feelings of unease were about to be compounded by the ringing of the phone on her desk.

  ‘DI Dornan.’

  ‘Good morning, Inspector. This is Alistair Dorado from the Spanish police here.’

  Healy had told Dornan of Dorado’s background so the distinctly un-Spanish accent had not thrown her.

  ‘Oh, good morning Alistair. Matt Healy isn’t here at the moment; you have been put through directly to my number. How can I help you?’

  ‘Yes, perhaps you could pass a message on to him for me. It’s just to let him know that unfortunately there was no DNA found at the scene of the murder. It was a stabbing, quite frenzied, in fact, but no DNA. Strange really, there weren’t any tell tale signs of anything other than a small partial print, no good for full identification, on one of the girl’s patent shoes. The killer was careful, yes.’

  Dornan was temporarily thrown; her hand began to shake. She needed clarity, a dreaded doubt removed.

  ‘OK, Alistair, I will. Just to be clear, which of the murders are you referring to?’

  ‘Oh, the one that happened while Matt was here. Nothing more on any of the other murders, I’m afraid.’

  Dornan was sure Dorado said more and she must have replied and brought the conversation to an end but no more had registered; she was drowning in a sea of panic and doubt. She rose slowly, closed her window blinds, returned to her desk and put her head in her hands. It can’t be true, Susan. Think. Unbeckoned, the memory of a hotel room came to her. Drunken passion. Listless night. Healy mumbling in his sleep. Unintelligible. Think, Susan, think. No, it couldn’t be; “Sorry, mum. Sorry.” Dear God.

  Her door opened, no knock, Healy entered and sat down uninvited. ‘Susan we need to talk.’

  ***

  Paul Allan was delighted with the developments in the Julie Connor killing. Finally get Max off my back about Joe Turner.

  ‘You’ll never guess what’s happened?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Joe Turner didn’t kill Julie Connor. See, I told you, you should never jump to conclusions.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Another guy has confessed. Her stepfather would you believe.’

  The silence on the line was so palpable that Allan thought Kermack had hung up.

  ‘You still there, Max?’

  ‘Yes. Her step father, are you sure? Can you get me to meet him?’

  ‘Doubt it.’

  ‘Is his name Russell?’

  ‘No, Harris. Look, I have to go. See you later.’

  Kermack opened the office desk drawer he normally kept locked. He looked inside. The drawer only contained two items; a photo and a knife.

  ***

  ‘I know how we can nail this, Susan.’ Healy sat looking at Dornan, unaware of Dornan’s inner turmoil.

  ‘Nail what?’ Dornan said quietly.

  ‘What do you think? This whole Turner, Harris, Azrael thing.’

  ‘And how’s that, Matt?’

  ‘We get Turner in for a chat; tell him he’s off the hook for the Julie Connor kil
ling. Get him to relax. But we get the Polish girl from the Cathedral House Hotel and the guy from the restaurant in Buchanan Galleries in. They ID Turner, even unofficially at first, we’ve got him.’

  Dornan didn’t react, hardly seemed to be listening.

  ‘Susan?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, what do you think?’

  ‘How did Spain go, Matt?’

  ‘What? What are you talking about? I told you. Nothing concrete but I know it’s Turner.’

  ‘Nothing else of note?’

  ‘Look, Susan, what is this? What are you on about?’

  ‘Nothing, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.’

  ‘Right. Well, what do you think?’

  ‘Fine. Do it. I’ll phone Ray. He’s not officially acting for Turner but I’m sure he’ll be happy to support him when he hears the good news.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Oh, and Matt. You’ll be here for it as well?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Right. Will you make sure Frame, Allan and T’Baht are here as well?’

  Healy sat and stared. ‘What’s going on, Susan?’

  ‘Nothing is going on. I just want everyone up to scratch about where we are. Anyway, Matt, just do it, will you?’

  Healy rose and left without uttering another word. Dornan remained at her desk till Healy closed the door and then picked up her phone.

  ***

  Martha Reid was glad it was a sunny day. She sat on the bus at Buchanan Bus Station waiting as the driver whiled away the minutes until departure time fiddling with his mobile phone. She was looking forward to the drive out through the Clyde Valley and to her lunch in The 4 Pillars. She had checked that morning that her reservation had been noted and that she wished a table looking out onto the river. She was also happy with the outfit she had finally chosen. Some people would probably describe it as “Sunday Best” but she had never quite followed that kind of reasoning. Would God be bothered about what you were wearing when you visited him? The noise of the doors swooshing closed brought Martha back from her debate with herself. The bus pulled out and passed the back entrance to the John Lewis store. Martha considered it one of her favourite stores and watched with a smile as two other ‘ladies of a certain age’ negotiated the revolving doors. Martha sighed and turned her thoughts to the day ahead.

  ***

  Azrael had never felt such contentment. He knew he had never complained about the demands placed upon him by the Lord; but he was glad his time of serving appeared now to be over. He watched impassively as the whores and harlots passed by the window; they would be dealt with by someone else blessed by His calling. Dionne Warwick asked if he knew the way to San Jose. He smiled, No, but he did know the way to redemption.

  ***

  Susan Dornan had never moved from her office. She couldn’t decide if she was being practical or cowardly but she felt she had to detach herself in a way from some in the squad. She picked up her phone, rang Paul Allan’s extension, summoned him through and made the biggest mistake of her career.

  ‘I want you to go up to Barlinnie, Paul, and speak to Harris. I’ve had enough of the place, and him, and it might give you some experience. Take a full statement from Peter Harris. Cover everything; Kate Turner, his confessions over killing his first wife and now Julie Connor. I’m not sure who’s available to go with you but just go about and ask.’

  ‘No problem, Ma’am.’

  Paul Allan left Dornan’s office, went back to his desk and picked up the phone.

  ‘Max, can you meet me in Riddrie in twenty minutes?’

  ‘Not really. I’m due to show someone a bungalow in Knightswood in an hour. Why?’

  ‘Oh it’s just that I’m on my way to Barlinnie to interview Pete Harris, alone; thought you might like to tag along.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’ Max replied in a quieter tone than usual.

  Allan got an old Warrant Card from his desk that a retired officer had left behind. He’d get Max just to flash it quickly and sign in on the same name. Nobody would take much notice anyway, he was sure, and Dornan would never get to find out.

  ***

  Martha Reid enjoyed her lunch immensely. She was sitting looking out at the river when the waitress approached.

  ‘Can I get you anything else?’

  ‘No, thank you. Everything was just lovely.’

  ‘It’s a lovely view isn’t it?’

  ‘It is. Yes. Did I read somewhere though that there was a terrible tragedy here a while back?’

  The waitress seemed to retreat within herself, unsure what to say.

  ‘There was. I was working that day too. The couple were sitting right over there.’

  ‘Please tell me, did the girl seem happy?’

  ‘She did but then there seemed to be some sort of lover’s tiff. She left. He sat for a while and then he left. We found out later about, well you know.’

  ‘Quite. Did the police say where it actually happened?’

  The waitress’s feeling of unease over the conversation heightened.

  ‘Just at that tree there apparently. Well, is that all? Can I phone you a taxi or anything?’

  ‘No, thank you. I’m going for a walk.’

  Martha Reid rose and called into the ladies toilet before leaving The 4 Pillars. She checked her appearance in the mirror and tucked a stray wisp of grey hair back into place. She strolled over to the area around the tree the waitress had pointed out. She wasn’t sure but thought she felt her daughter Kate’s presence. Hello, darling, is your brother with you? She allowed herself a smile as she looked at the refection of the branches on the water. She put her bag on the grass bank, opened it and removed a small bottle of water and a number of weed control tablets. She hoped no-one would see her drinking out of a bottle, so un-ladylike. The tablets did not stick in her throat at all and, as she lay back on the grass thinking of Kate, she felt only contentment. I’m coming children, Mum’s coming.

  Chapter 25

  Healy and Frame sat in a bar around the corner from the station. They had worked together for many years and trusted each other although neither would describe the other as a close friend. Healy knew that Frame would have no problem helping him out with what he was going to pull on Joe Turner and that prick of a boyfriend of hers but he wanted to speak to Frame about recent events.

  ‘John, have you noticed anything strange about things recently?’

  ‘What, stranger than normal?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  Frame knew exactly what Healy meant but also knew to confide in no-one.

  ‘Suppose, but can’t quite put my finger on it. What do you think is going on?’

  ‘It’s got all the smell of an internal enquiry but I can’t think what anyone would be enquiring about.’

  Frame couldn’t see any link between the cases and his own particular preferences either but even the rumour of an enquiry had him on edge.

  ‘Who do you think’s behind it Matt?’

  ‘Got to be Dornan. She’s keen to make a name for herself and McFarlane’s too thick.’

  ‘Jack T’Baht hates her you know?’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘Think it’s a cultural thing. Women should be subservient to men, that kind of thing.’

  ‘I think I’ll become a Muslim then, John?’

  Healy bought Frame another pint and outlined his plan before returning to the station. Before either had the chance to sit at their desks, the doors at the end of the squad room burst open and McFarlane teetered into the room almost crashing into the first desk he passed. He was panting by the time he reached Dornan’s room. Dornan stood up, asked while McFarlane caught his breadth.

  ‘Sir, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Harris’ been murdered in Barlinnie.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake’ roared Healy ‘what the fuck’’ going on up there.’

  ‘It’s worse than that. DC Allan and DS Provan are being held for it.’

  Everyone in the
room stood in stunned silence.

  Dornan’s mind was reeling. ‘Who is DS Provan?’ she eventually asked.

  ‘I don’t know; you sent him. Get up there now.’

  When Dornan and Healy got to the prison, the prison Governor, Vince Farrell, was waiting.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Dornan.

  ‘We don’t know the details but your guys Allan and Provan were booked in to question Harris. They were questioning him in an interview room. After a while when a prison officer at the door never heard anything he looked in and Harris was on the floor in a pool of blood with a sharpened, plastic letter opener sticking out of him and your two guys were sitting staring at the wall.’

  ‘I don’t know anybody called Provan, he’s not one of mine.’

  ‘Superintendent, it gets worse. They were sitting holding hands.’

  ‘Can I speak to Allan?’

  Paul Allan was sitting in the prison’s medical room. Susan Dornan looked at him and saw a young man who had aged forty years in the few hours since she had last seen him. “I should never have sent him here. Who the fuck is this Provan guy anyway?’

  ‘Paul, are you OK?’

  Allan looked at Dornan but she got the impression he was looking into another universe rather than at her.

  ‘I loved him. How could he have done this to me?’

  ‘Who, Paul? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Max. He told me he only wanted to watch. To see a killer in the flesh. Appraise him. For his book.’

  None of it made any sense to Susan Dornan.

  ‘Max? Max Provan?’

  ‘What? No. Max Kermack, my boyfriend. I used an old warrant card to get him in. Somebody called Provan.’

  Dornan shook her head. She looked at the withered figure sitting in front of her. His ruination complete. There was a quiet knock on the door. It was Matt Healy. He looked at Allan but his face didn’t register any emotion.