by Zach Abrams
“It was very good of you to come in so quickly, thank you very much,” Sandra started.
“That's okay. I've got a moped and I was going to use it but the man said you needed to see me soon and I knew there was a bus due, so I just ran for it and that saved me from having to get changed. I was lucky, I just got to the stop when it arrived and it's only a short walk from Buchanan Street round to here.”
“That's good. Well, I'd like to get some information from you. You said on the phone that you were Mr Mathewson's fiancée.”
Alyth's face formed a frown and she stared down at the floor. “I'm sorry, did I do wrong? I wasn't meant to say. Hector told me it had to be kept a secret and I shouldn't say to anyone, even my parents. He made me swear. When the man spoke to me on the phone, it just came out. I didn't mean to break my promise.” Tears were welling in her eyes.
“There's nothing for you to worry about. We're the police and you're allowed to tell us because it's wrong to keep secrets from the police. We have some questions for you, but I'd like you to excuse us for a moment while I have a word with my colleague.”
Sandra and Phil stepped out of the room. “Phil, it's obvious she's not very bright, but I'm worried she's not the full shilling and she might be deemed to have mental health issues. I want to guard against any evidence we collect being deemed inadmissible if we're seen to be taking advantage of her. I think we should arrange for an `appropriate adult' to be present on her behalf for the duration of the interview.”
“Shit, how long will that take? No, you're probably right, Sarg. Let's do it by the book.”
As luck would have it, they were all set up and ready to restart within fifteen minutes.
“Alyth, this is Mrs Proctor. She's here to help you and explain anything you don't understand or answer anything you're not sure about. She's not a policewoman. Her only reason for being here is to help you. Is that okay?”
“Yes, I suppose, but I don't need any help.”
“That's okay, she's here just in case you change your mind. Now, Alyth, how long have you known Hector Mathewson?”
Alyth smiled at the mention of his name. “I met him a few months ago. I'd gone to a pub near home and I met him there. We got talking and he was really nice and kind to me. He walked me home and he asked to see me again the next night. He took me to his flat and we spent the night.”
“Where was the flat?”
“I don't know, somewhere in Glasgow. He picked me up and dropped me home so I'm not sure. I think it was near the river.”
“Did you have sex with him?”
Alyth giggled. “Oh yes. It was fun.”
“Had you had sex before, or was he your first time?”
“Oh no, I've had sex lots of times.”
“Did he force you to do anything?”
“No, no. He's not like that. He's kind and he looks after me. He's good fun and buys me things. He loves me and I love him.”
“How do you know he loves you?”
“He makes love to me so he must love me and he gave me a ring, so we're engaged. We wouldn't be engaged if he didn't love me.”
“Are you wearing the ring?”
“Yes,” Alyth held up her right hand and showed a thin gold band with a heart shaped amethyst on her third finger. “That's my engagement ring. Hector bought it for me, but he told me I couldn't wear it on my left hand because it's our secret. He said he had a lot of things to sort out before anyone else could know and he made me promise not to tell anyone yet.”
“Where do you meet him and where do you go.”
“Hector works in the Benlochy distillery,” she said proudly. “He's one of the bosses. He told me he'd get me a job there so we could spend more time together. He got me a job as a cleaner, but he's made me a special cleaner. I only work three shifts a week but I get paid more than I used to working full-time in my last job.”
“When do you work and what do you do? Why is it special?”
“Please only ask one question at a time,” Proctor interceded.
“I can answer okay,” Alyth cried. “Two nights a week, I go in to clean the offices and the shop. It's every Wednesday and Sunday. On Wednesday, I start work at five in the evening and I work until eleven and on Sunday I work from four o'clock until midnight. I'm special because I'm the only one who works as a cleaner for Benlochy. There are other cleaners who come in every evening from five until seven, but they work for an agency and they just do general work. I have to check that they leave everything right and I'm the only one who gets to clean Hector's room. He says I'm the best cleaner he's ever had.”
“You said you worked three shifts. That's only two.”
“Yes, the other one can be done whenever I like, but I like to do it on Thursday morning so that I get most of my week's work done at once. It's a really special job. I get to clean a little cottage that's at the end of a road near to the distillery. It's only little and there's nothing much in it, but there's always loads of dust and the floor gets into an awful mess. I sweep it all out and I clean the inside of the windows and I polish all the wood.”
“Do you see Hector outside of work?”
“Sometimes, but not very often.”
“But you do see him when you're working in the distillery in the evening?”
“Oh yes, every time, twice a week and sometimes he asked me to come in extra times too. That's why he gave me the phone so he could call and tell me where to meet him. I sometimes got paid overtime when I came in for extra work.”
“And what happened when you met him?”
“We made love.”
“Where?”
Alyth's cheeks burned and she giggled again. “Everywhere. It's so much fun. Hector says the more risk of being caught then the more exciting it is.” Alyth suddenly became very serious. “Is that what this is all about? Are we in trouble because somebody saw us?”
“No, you're not in any trouble for that. Did you ever fight with Hector?”
“Sometimes he'd want to wrestle when we were making love.”
“No, I mean did he ever hit you or did you hit him?”
“One time he spanked my bottom. Is that what you mean?”
“No, not that. Did he ever get angry with you or did you get angry with him and maybe hit him?”
“No, we love each other.”
“Did you make love on Wednesday?”
“Yes.”
“Where was that?”
“In the shop.”
“What time did you see him?”
“I'd already finished cleaning and he told me to meet him in the shop. It must have been about ten o'clock. Yes, that's when he said to be there but he was a bit late.”
“And what time did you leave him?”
“He left about eleven. He said he needed to make a phone call and he left me to clear up before I closed up. I left at about half past eleven.”
“Does he always leave you to clear up?”
“Usually he does and I'm meant to lock up, but my memory isn't good and sometimes I forget things. Hector tells me off when I forget to lock doors. It's happened at the distillery and sometimes at the cottage. Oh, I can't remember if I closed the cottage on Thursday.”
“You said you have a moped. Is that how you get to and from work?”
“Yes, that's right. Hector bought it for me. It's the only way I can get to the cottage with my cleaning stuff because it's too far to walk. Sometimes if the weather's very bad, I can't drive the moped, and on those days I take a bus or a taxi, but only to go to the distillery. I can't do that for the cottage.”
“Did Hector tell you that he was married?”
“Yes, he did. He said he was married a long time ago but he wasn't married any more. He said he was waiting to get papers to show he wasn't married. He said he was working on something to make him lots of money and then we'd be together all the time. I think that's when he wanted us to get married.”
“Alyth, I'm sorry to tell you that somethin
g really terrible happened at the distillery. Something happened to Hector.”
“Where is he? I'll go and see him.”
“I'm sorry, you can't do that. I'm afraid that Hector is dead.”
Alyth sat quietly, saying nothing looking at each of their faces in turn, tears filled her eyes and started to stream down her cheeks.
It occurred to Sandra that Alyth was the first person they'd spoken to who'd shown genuine regret and loss at Hector's passing.
“I'm going to arrange for someone to take you home. Will any of your family be there when you get back? I'm going to arrange for a social worker to go with you anyway.”
A few minutes later Sandra was walking alone, taking a stroll around the police building. She wanted to inhale the cold, fresh air to clear her head. For an instant, she thought she might have preferred to inhale the warm cloudy fumes of a cigarette and imagined the sensation of nicotine drawing down her throat, infusing her being. She dismissed the thought as she'd given up months before and she wasn't prepared to risk the addiction returning. She felt drained after her day's work. She felt heart sorry for Alyth, another poor soul whom Mathewson had exploited for his own gratification. He was a real creep and no loss to the world, yet Alyth's life was being turned upside down by his murder. Her thoughts returned to practical issues. They'd tied up one more lose end but were no closer to solving the case. It was now late afternoon and she realised the football should have ended. Having a moment's privacy, Sandra took the opportunity to call Alex, wanting to hear his voice and so she could tell him what had been happening. The call rang out until voicemail kicked in. Sandra rang off and sent a brief text instead.
Returning to her desk, she noted an unopened email sent the previous night from Anne Dixon. She quickly opened it and read their latest findings on the glass found at the crime scene.
`Glass is consistent with nineteenth century hand blown Italian made, possibly Murano. Would most likely have come from a decorative object, ornament or item with decorative glass finish. One sliver had trace of wood attached, polished oak.'
Chapter 20
At their morning meeting, Alex had consciously let Sandra lead to emphasise to the others that she would be taking charge. He would stay in overall control but wasn't intending to be in attendance again over the weekend. He knew Sandra would have a busy day advancing the case and had complete confidence she would handle everything as he would wish. She could contact him if he was required and would no doubt check in with him later in the day. He left the office and detoured home to get changed and have a better shave before going to collect the boys. He received his normal welcome from Jake and was pleased to see the boys were ready and waiting for him. Helen was out shopping so there was nothing to delay him. He collected their overnight bags and tossed them into the car's boot.
“We can drop into the Laurels for a bite of lunch and then go on to the game,” Alex suggested. “Sound okay?”
He drove back down Clarkston Road and found a legitimate space in the midst of a line of parked cars opposite the bistro. It was only about fifty yards along from the Bank where Alex had met Brian the previous evening. Off peak parking was permitted on this side of the street.
The roads were still frosty and it was cold outside; however, a welcoming wall of heat hit them as they walked through the door. The Laurels was clean and fresh with modern furniture and a cool counter displaying an appetising array of gateaux, biscuits and scones. Although it was quite early for lunch, the restaurant was already busy, but they found a table by the window and were welcomed by the owners. Norman was in the kitchen but called a `Hello' when he saw them walk by. Cathy came over and offered them menus.
“It's good to see you back, Alex. You're looking well. How is everything going?”
“I'm doing fine, thanks. We're just in for a bite of lunch before heading over to Ibrox for this afternoon's game.”
“Oh, I'll leave Norman to talk to you about that. He's really upset over what's been happening, what with Rangers going into administration last week. I'll give you a few minutes to choose and then come back for your order.”
“Dad, I wanted to ask you about that. What is this administration thing all about?” Andrew asked.
“Well, I'm not an expert so I might not get the technicalities right, but I'll have a go at explaining. Where a company has debts or claims of debts that it can't pay then it is insolvent. One way to deal with it is to be liquidated, that is to close down, sell its assets to pay debts, and then it no longer exists. Assets that are sold can go on trading as a new company so it doesn't always mean an end to everything. Another option is to go into administration and that's what's happened here. The organisation is handed over to a professional business manager who looks at ways of raising finance or selling off bits of the business or of restructuring its debt so that it can try to continue in business. It can sometimes work to save a company, and the receiver will then sell what's left of the company as a going concern. If it doesn't work or if he can't sell it, then it ends up being liquidated.
“In Rangers case, it's about the tax man, that's Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs, or known as HMRC for short, and it's claimed millions of pounds are owed to it. Rangers can't afford to pay, so that's what's brought this all about.”
“But why should that be? Rangers were miles ahead in the league only a few weeks ago and now they're miles behind.”
“The football side's different to the business but it has an effect. You're right, back in November, Rangers were out in front with a lead of about eighteen points in the league, if I remember rightly. That's when all the stories started and the players lost heart. They were probably wondering whether they'd get paid their wages. They played rubbish and threw away their lead by Christmas, and by the end of the year, Celtic were a point ahead and they've kept in front ever since, although not by much. As a penalty for going into administration, Rangers have had ten points taken away so they're now fourteen points behind and they could also have fines to pay.”
“Isn't that a bit stupid?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, if the administration thing's come about because they've not got enough money, surely it's only going to make it worse to penalise them with fines and to take points off them.”
“I can't argue with that. The whole thing sounds really stupid to me. I can't understand how a Club as big and powerful as Rangers can have got into so much trouble. Anyway, you'd better choose what you want to eat or we'll run out of time.”
“I'm starving, can I have a soup and a sandwich? Roast beef in brown bread, if that's okay, and a strawberry milkshake,” Andrew asked.
“A coronation chicken wrap and I'll have a milkshake too,” Craig chipped in.
Cathy returned for their order and Alex asked for a baked potato with tuna and a white coffee. The boys' eyes lit up when two large tumblers, filled to the brim with luminous, bright pink liquid were placed in front of them.
They devoured their lunch with enthusiasm and in no time had empty plates to show, Alex wasn't far behind them. Then Craig and Andrew each tucked into a thick slab of carrot cake while Alex was content with a second coffee. Cathy was bustling about tirelessly, ensuring all the customers were properly attended. Norman found a few moments free and came out for a brief chat.
“Cathy said you're going to the game this afternoon. It should be a good one. Kilmarnock has been playing well, which is more than I can say for the Gers. You can't blame McCoist; he's been an excellent manager and it's a miracle he's managed to hold the team together at all with what they've been going through. For today's game, he says the team are up for it and Rangers are the only team in the Premier League who haven't lost at home, so we don't want that to change now. He's called for the fans to give a show of strength and support so it should be interesting to see the response.”
“Yeh, not too sure what to expect, but hopefully it should be entertaining.
“I heard an interesting story earli
er on,” Alex started. “Apparently Hearts have been having some financial problems and problems with the taxman too. Anyway, there's been a suggestion that, to raise money, Rangers and Hearts should merge with each other and build a single stadium for the two of them so they can sell off Ibrox and Tynecastle. It would raise millions. They're going to call the new club the `Heart of Midlothian Rangers Club' and the stadium will be the HMRC stadium.”
“Oh, groan,” Craig and Andrew both replied at the same time.
“You're moaning now but I expect you'll be telling that one to your friends on Monday.”
“I don't suppose you'd believe me if I denied it,” Craig replied.
“Please excuse me, I'll need to get back to the kitchen. It's too busy for me to be standing talking, but please drop in again so we can have a chance for a proper chat.”
“You don't want to come with us to Ibrox then?”
“I'd love to, but I've too much on here. I'll just have to watch the highlights of the game on the box later.”
“Let's just hope there's some highlights worth seeing.”
Well fed and watered, Alex, Craig and Andrew returned to the car. Alex told Andrew to take the front passenger seat so he'd be better able to talk to him while driving. Craig was happy to sit in the back and didn't pay them much attention as he concentrated on sending and receiving Facebook messages on his iPhone. As they drove, Alex conveyed the news to Andrew about Mr Carpenter and explained that he'd had a nervous breakdown and would not be returning to teaching in the foreseeable future. Andrew's eyes welled up and he had difficulty speaking without his voice breaking. Alex was pleased that Craig was distracted as that prevented him teasing his younger brother. Alex reassured Andrew about Mrs Rankine taking him and the others to the prize-giving and ensuring there would be someone good to continue his maths tuition. To Alex's pride, Andrew was unconcerned with these aspects and his sadness resulted from genuine compassion for his teacher.