Perdition

by Pete Brassett

  ‘Not long. Do you remember what happened?’

  ‘Aye, I do. He jumped me just around the corner from the pub, as I was heading for my car.’

  ‘And do you know why?’

  ‘We’d had a… disagreement. A wee… misunderstanding.’

  ‘A wee misunderstanding?’ said West. ‘That’s got to be the understatement of the year. Was it about the loan?’

  ‘Loan?’ said Craig. ‘What loan?’

  ‘Rona said…’

  ‘You’ve spoken to Rona?’

  ‘Of course. Is there a problem with that?’

  ‘No, no,’ said Craig. ‘I’d just rather she wasn’t involved, that’s all.’

  ‘Too late for that, I’m afraid. Now, she said you’d borrowed some money from Alan Byrne.’

  ‘I did, aye.’

  ‘Okay,’ said West, ‘so, as Alan Byrne and Sean Jardine were running a loan racket together, we just assumed…’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Craig, ‘I don’t mean to interrupt but Sean was running a loan racket?’

  ‘You mean, you didn’t know?’

  ‘First I’ve heard of it.’

  West, clearly perplexed, slumped back in her chair and folded her arms.

  ‘Then what’s all this about the money you borrowed?’

  ‘A big deal over nothing, by the sounds of it,’ said Craig. ‘I used to bump into Alan in the pub after work.’

  ‘So, you were mates?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far. Just a couple of punters having a beer together.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, I was strapped for cash one night and I tapped him for fifty quid. I never realised he was such a tight-arse. He kept hounding me to pay it back.’

  West, even more confused, ruffled her hair in frustration.

  ‘Fifty quid?’ she said incredulously. ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘Aye, positive. I should know, I’m the one who borrowed it. Why?’

  ‘Rona got in touch with Byrne…’

  ‘She did what?’

  ‘…because she thought you were skint. She offered to pay your debt but Byrne told her you owed him fifty grand.’

  Craig smiled and rolled his head against the pillow.

  ‘No, no, no,’ he said. ‘That’s ridiculous. He must have been joking her.’

  ‘So, it wasn’t fifty grand?’

  ‘Fifty quid, Inspector. Straight up.’

  ‘Then why would he say that?’

  ‘Search me,’ said Craig. ‘Maybe he saw her as an easy touch.’

  ‘Okay, hold on,’ said West, taking a deep breath and frowning as she gathered her thoughts. ‘Let’s go back a bit. You lost your job a while back, is that right?’

  ‘Aye, unfortunately, it is.’

  ‘Gross misconduct?’

  ‘Is that what they called it?’

  ‘Do you mind telling us what happened?’

  ‘Is it relevant?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘If you’d rather not,’ said Munro, standing by the door like an impartial observer at the ballot box, ‘then you dinnae have to.’

  ‘Oh, it’s ancient history now, I suppose,’ said Craig. ‘We were having a party in the office, someone’s birthday, and I’d had a few bevvies. One too many, if I’m honest. And I made a pass at the boss.’

  ‘And she didn’t like it?’ said West.

  Craig turned his head and smiled.

  ‘He. He didn’t like it.’

  Munro, bewildered by her lack of perception, stared at West and rolled his eyes as he waited for the penny to drop.

  ‘So, you’re…gay?’ she said.

  ‘One hundred per cent, Inspector. Shocking, isn’t it?’

  ‘No. It isn’t. I mean… but what about Rona? Weren’t you and she having an affair?’

  ‘In her dreams, maybe. No, no, I’m kidding. We’re pals. Good pals. She might’ve fancied me at some point but after we’d been out a couple of times, I set her straight. She didn’t even bat an eyelid. She said she thought our friendship was worth more than that and we’ve been friends ever since. We hang out together, we have a laugh.’

  ‘I hate to ask,’ said West. ‘But what about Mary?’

  Craig lay back and stared at the ceiling.

  ‘Well, now,’ he said with a sigh. ‘That’s a different story.’

  ‘So, she doesn’t know?’

  ‘She has no idea. It’s a subject I’ve yet to broach. No doubt it’ll come out in the wash once the divorce gets rolling.’

  ‘Rather you than me,’ said West. ‘Tell me to sod off if I’m prying, but why did you marry her if you knew you were gay?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Craig. ‘Not then. I knew something wasn’t right but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It’s like… have you ever found yourself in a space you didn’t want to be in? Despite everything being perfect on the outside?’

  West glanced at Munro and lowered her head.

  ‘Yup. But me almost marrying the wrong bloke is hardly the same.’

  ‘It sounds exactly the same,’ said Craig. ‘See here, Inspector, we ticked all the right boxes: nice couple, nice house, nice car, and a bairn on the way; but there was one box we couldn’t tick, the one marked “happy”.’

  Munro, aware that Craig had touched a nerve, interrupted proceedings with a swift change of subject as he noticed West’s concentration beginning to lapse.

  ‘If you dinnae mind me asking,’ he said, ‘how were you coping financially? I mean, it cannae be easy with a mortgage to pay and a bairn on the way.’

  ‘Aye, you’re not wrong there, Mr Munro. Sean was helping me out. He was slipping me a couple of grand each month until I got myself sorted.’

  ‘Sean? But I thought you said you didn’t have a loan with Sean?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘By jiminy, now you’re confusing me,’ said Munro. ‘What’s a couple of grand a month, if it’s not a loan?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Craig. ‘A gift? It’s no different to say, a husband giving his wife some housekeeping.’

  ‘What are you getting at?’ said West. ‘Sean didn’t get on with his sister, so why would he suddenly bung you a couple of grand unless…’

  ‘Well done, Inspector,’ said Craig, smiling limply. ‘You’ve caught up at last. Sean and I were… we were seeing each other.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said West. ‘Talk about keep it in the family.’

  ‘I know. Doesn’t look good, does it? God knows how I’m going to tell Mary. Once she finds out, I’ll be right back in here, that’s for sure.’

  ‘She might not have to,’ said Munro, muttering under his breath.

  West stood, returned the chair to the wall, and walked to the foot of the bed.

  ‘Sorry, Craig,’ she said, ‘but I’m still a bit lost. If you and Sean were an item, and he was supporting you, then why the hell did he do this?’

  ‘Rona,’ said Craig. ‘He found out I was seeing Rona and couldn’t handle the fact that we were just pals. He thought I was playing him for a fool and sleeping with her behind his back. He got jealous.’

  ‘The possessive kind, is he?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘And he’s got a temper.’

  ‘Oh, he has that.’

  ‘Just so you know, once he’d had a pop at you, he went after her.’

  ‘He killed the goat, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘I knew it. God, I’ve got some explaining to do when I get out.’

  ‘Yeah, don’t envy you that,’ said West, ‘but from what I’ve seen of Rona, she seems pretty cool. We’ll let her know you’re up and talking and she’ll be down to see you soon, I’m sure. Listen, before we go… actually, no. We’ll save it for next time.’

  ‘No, you’re alright,’ said Craig. ‘You’ve come this far, you may as well let me have it.’

  ‘It’s Alan Byrne,’ said West. ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘Oh, well,’ said Craig. ‘That’s fifty quid i
n my pocket, then.’

  ‘And I’m sorry to have to say this but… so is Sean.’

  Craig closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  ‘Are you alright? It must be a shock, I know.’

  ‘Not so much a shock,’ said Craig. ‘More a surprise. What was it?’

  ‘Overdose.’

  ‘Those bloody steroids! I told him to pack them in, but would he listen? No. Always had to play the big man.’

  ‘It wasn’t the steroids, Craig. We’re pretty certain he was murdered.’

  ‘Murdered? Are you joking me?

  ‘No. Alan Byrne died just a few days earlier, same thing. There’s probably a connection between the two.’

  ‘Visiting time, eh?’ said Craig. ‘Whatever happened to a bunch of bananas and a bottle of Lucozade?’

  ‘We’ll leave you in peace.’

  ‘Aye, okay. Listen, I don’t suppose Mary…?’

  ‘She’s outside. We’ll send her in. Oh, and you need to have a chat with her once you’re home.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Sean. He was HIV positive.’

  Chapter 14

  With a face like a fisherman who’d failed to land his catch, and reeling from the revelation that Craig was spawning like a salmon with Sean Jardine, West – her confidence ebbing away – was floundering like a fish out of water.

  ‘You couldn’t make it up, could you?’ she said, glancing at Munro as they strolled along the corridor. ‘I mean, Craig Ferguson and Sean Jardine? Who’d have thought?’

  ‘As they say, Charlie, the truth is often stranger than fiction. It’s that lassie I feel sorry for, she’s the one left holding the bairn.’

  ‘Yeah, and I can’t see her being too happy once she finds out what her husband’s been up to. Nothing like a bit of infidelity to dent the ego.’

  ‘Right enough,’ said Munro, ‘but he seems like a good lad, I cannae see him leaving her high and dry.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said West, ‘but where does that leave me?’

  ‘I don’t know, Charlie. Where does that leave you?’

  West stopped and turned to Munro with the woeful look of a vegan vacationing on a Venezuelan cattle ranch.

  ‘I don’t know, Jimbo,’ she said. ‘Honest to God, I really don’t know.’

  ‘Well, you’ve only got one suspect: Rona Macallan. I suggest you concentrate on her.’

  West, hands in pockets, stared at the floor as they continued slowly towards reception.

  ‘Alright, look,’ she said, ‘I admit, the evidence against her is pretty overwhelming and she’s got no qualms about burying a goat or killing a chicken so I doubt topping a couple of blokes would make that much difference to her, but we’ve got nothing to prove it. Even if we get a match from the hair you filched from her bathroom, all that does is prove she was in Byrne’s car, which she’s admitted to, anyway. I’m just not convinced it’s her.’

  ‘Then stop trying to prove she’s guilty, Charlie,’ said Munro, ‘and start trying to prove her innocence. Then you can eliminate her from the inquiry and start afresh.’

  West stopped abruptly and spun to face Munro.

  ‘You,’ she said, grinning wildly, ‘are a bloody genius! It’s like reverse psychology!’

  ‘Is it, indeed?’

  ‘God, everything seems so much simpler, now! Okay, we need to cross-match the hair sample with the strands we got from Byrne’s car. Then I need to bring her in and get a set of dabs, see if they match the unidentified set from Jardine’s motor. And, while we’re at it, we should see if we can lift any prints off the beads those two were wearing. It’s got to be worth a look. And if we draw a blank, then bingo, she’s off the hook.’

  ‘Well done, Charlie,’ said Munro, ‘but have you not forgotten something?’

  ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘The car park by the McTurk bridge, is it still sealed off?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Why?’

  ‘Because now that you know what killed Jardine, you’ll be wanting a murder weapon. You need the SOCOs to do a clean sweep of the area, it’ll be easier now that the weather’s improved. Rubbish bins, drains, hedges, even the water under the bridge. It’s a syringe you’ll be looking for and mark my words, it’ll not be easy to find.’

  * * *

  Apart from an elderly gent engrossed in The Herald, a forlorn-looking lady making enquiries at the desk, and a doctor chatting in hushed tones with a lady by the far window, the reception area was, unusually, all but deserted.

  West froze and grabbed Munro by the sleeve as the doctor gently placed an arm around the young lady’s shoulder and guided her towards them.

  ‘Oh, crap!’ she said, muttering under her breath.

  ‘What is it, Charlie?’ said Munro as he followed her line of sight, his face wrinkling as he smiled. ‘Ah-ha! Your registrar friend, I assume?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘And he’s with a dolly bird, too.’

  ‘No need to rub it in. Oh, God, he’s coming over. How do I get out of this?’

  ‘Confrontation is the best way to overcome your fears, lassie. I’ll be waiting in the car.’

  West cursed through gritted teeth as Munro disappeared through the door, leaving her to face a beaming Doctor Bowen.

  ‘Inspector!’ he said. ‘Nice to see you again. What brings you here?’

  ‘Craig Ferguson,’ said West, bluntly.

  ‘The lad in the ICU?’

  ‘Yup. He’s up and about.’

  ‘Oh, that is good news. I was hoping I’d see you.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Well, because last time we met, you seemed in an awful hurry to get away. I hope I didn’t say anything to upset you?’

  ‘Nah, I’m made of stronger stuff, no need to worry on that score.’

  ‘That’s alright, then,’ said Bowen. ‘Oh, where are my manners; Inspector, I’d like you meet my daughter Ally. Ally, this is Detective Inspector West.’

  West’s face dropped as her eyes flitted between the attractive, young girl and her father.

  ‘Your daughter?’ she said.

  ‘Aye, of course,’ said Bowen. ‘Who did you…? Oh! Now, I get it! That explains everything!’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Aye, you do! When we met and I said I was taking Ally for a spin on the bike, you thought I was talking about my wife!’

  West lowered her gaze and kicked fluff from the carpet.

  ‘It’s possible,’ she said, ‘that I may have misconstrued what you meant, but…’

  ‘Ally, would you give us a minute, sweetheart?’

  Bowen waited while his daughter took a seat and lowered his voice.

  ‘Your cheeks, Inspector, they’re quite the shade of pink all of a sudden.’

  ‘Hot flush,’ said West. ‘Must be the chilli I had for breakfast.’

  ‘Aye, chilli for breakfast. Does it every time. So, how are you?’

  ‘Fine. Oh, look, I’m sorry, okay. It was my fault, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.’

  ‘No, no, it’s me,’ said Bowen. ‘I should’ve said.’

  ‘Well, no harm done, eh? So, how about you? Are you alright?’

  ‘Oh, aye. Much better, now. And just for the record, my wife and I separated years ago. Ally stops with me. She’s at uni.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain.’

  ‘Oh, I think I do. I wouldn’t want to go through that again, especially if you’ve changed your mind about that ride on the bike.’

  West, playing an unconvincing game of hard-to-get, bit her lip and frowned.

  ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘Yeah, why not. It might be fun.’

  ‘Good,’ said Bowen. ‘I’m on lates all week so I’m free in the afternoons. When do you fancy? Tomorrow, maybe?’

  ‘Okay,’ said West. ‘As long as it’s not plopping down, you’re on.’

  * * *

  West slipped silently into the passenger seat and fastened her safety belt as Munro
, catching sight of the smug expression smeared across her face, shook his head and smiled.

  ‘Looks like I’ll have to find myself somewhere else to stay,’ he said. ‘I’ll not play gooseberry to a couple of turtle doves.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said West with a grin. ‘You’ll do nothing of the sort.’

  ‘I’m a light sleeper, Charlie. I’m not keen on things that go bump in the night.’

  ‘You’ll feel a bump on the back of your head if you don’t shut it. The office please, James. And don’t spare the horses.’

  * * *

  ‘Have you eaten, Dougal?’

  ‘Not yet, miss. I’m famished.’

  ‘Then it’s your lucky day,’ said West as she placed two small, thin-crust pizzas on the desk. ‘One’s pepperoni and peppers, the other’s basically a lump of dough with some cheese on the top.’

  ‘As it should be,’ said Munro as he swiped a slice.

  ‘No sign of Duncan?’

  ‘He’s away to see the French fella, miss,’ said Dougal. ‘He’ll not be long. Did you get yourselves to the hospital?’

  ‘We did, indeed,’ said Munro, ‘and Craig Ferguson was singing like a canary.’

  ‘And how about Rona Macallan?’

  ‘I’m glad you asked me that,’ said West. ‘Because we need to bring her in, as soon as possible. Can you sort it, please?’

  ‘Aye, no bother. What’s the story?’

  ‘In a nutshell, everything’s against her. She admits to being with Byrne with his motor, she knew about Craig Ferguson’s loan which… long story, I’ll tell you later; more to the point, she has her own stock of ’prenorphine.’

  ‘Jeez-oh! Why would she have that?’

  ‘For the ponies, apparently,’ said West as she handed him the wad of toilet tissue. ‘We need this tested, it’s her hair and it’ll probably match the samples from Byrne’s car, and we need her prints, too.’

  ‘So, are we going to charge her?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘No? Why not?’

  ‘Because she didn’t do it.’

  Dougal dusted down his fingers, returned to his desk, and flipped his laptop round to face them.

  ‘I’ve got something that might change your mind,’ he said as he played a grainy, black and white video. ‘Look at this.’

  ‘Riveting,’ said Munro, staring at the fuzzy image on the screen. ‘What is it, exactly?’