‘Strathy’s fourth wife,’ Clarke eventually said. ‘Seems he collects them like hunting trophies. She walked out on him.’
‘Is that all?’
‘Renounced the high life for the pleasures of hippiedom.’
Rebus’s eyes narrowed. ‘Meaning?’
‘According to reports, she joined some New Age cult.’
‘Based between Naver and Tongue, by any chance?’
‘Why ask if you already know?’
‘It was more of an educated guess. Do you have a name for her?’
‘Angharad Oates. Cue tabloid headlines about wild oats being sown.’
‘Can you send me what you’ve got on her?’
‘Or you could google it, same as Malcolm did.’
‘He’s keeping you busy then?’
‘Just a bit.’
‘Funny that, when he’s just been up here asking questions at Strathy Castle...’
‘Keeping your usual low profile?’
‘Just remember who’s doing all your dirty work.’
‘How’s everything else? With Samantha, I mean?’
‘She’s hanging in.’
‘And you?’
‘Do me one last favour, will you? Run a check on a Colin Belkin. He’s the groundsman and general factotum at Strathy Castle.’
‘And?’
‘I’m betting a pound to a penny he’s got previous.’
‘I’ll see what I can do.’
16
‘Tell me what you see,’ Malcolm Fox said, turning his head towards Siobhan Clarke. He had driven them to Craigentinny golf course, passing the scene of Salman bin Mahmoud’s murder on the way.
Clarke saw some parked cars, most of them the makes and models preferred by middle-management types — indeed, the sort of car Malcolm Fox himself drove these days. A couple of silver-haired gents were exiting the clubhouse at the end of their morning round, bags of clubs slung heavily over their shoulders.
‘Your future?’ she pretended to guess. Then: ‘Maybe just spit it out, eh?’
‘Watch and learn.’ Fox killed the engine and undid his seat belt before opening the driver’s-side door. Clarke hated him when he was like this. He could never just share a finding or what he thought might be an inspired inkling — there always had to be a song-and-dance. He was walking towards the barrier they’d just driven through. It was a weighted white pole, which could be lowered as necessary. The car park was unmanned, though signs warned of penalties and restrictions. Once Clarke had caught up with him, Fox slapped a hand against the barrier.
‘They close it at night — I called and checked.’
‘Okay,’ Clarke agreed.
‘Closed and locked — you see what that means?’ He waited, but she didn’t respond. ‘Salman bin Mahmoud has been here in daylight, played golf here. The car park is a good place for a meeting, he thinks.’ He made a circle in the air with a finger. ‘No CCTV, no security guard.’
‘He doesn’t know it’s not usable at night?’ Clarke concluded.
‘Thwarted, he drives to the first car park he finds.’
‘The warehouse.’ She was nodding now. ‘All of which assumes the meeting was his idea, yet we’ve found nothing on his phone.’
‘Maybe there’s another phone we don’t know about; or the meeting was planned some other way. Could even have been arranged face to face. All I’m saying is, this gives us the reason he ended up being killed where he did. Added to which, maybe the meeting was to be about the golf course.’
Clarke saw the excited look on Fox’s face.
‘Any time you’re ready,’ she said, folding her arms.
‘I got talking to my business reporter contact. Craigentinny’s a public course, meaning the city owns it, but it’s no secret Edinburgh Council’s strapped for cash and desperate to save and make money. A consortium made an approach.’
‘To buy the golf course?’
‘Apparently not just this one — and not just in Edinburgh.’
‘This is connected to Stewart Scoular’s plan for the golf resort up north?’
‘Same names keep popping up.’
‘Including the bin Mahmoud family and Lord Strathy?’
Fox nodded like a bright kid whose teacher had just taken note. Clarke kept her face emotionless as she thought it through.
‘John says Lord Strathy’s done a vanishing act. I tried his London office but they’ve all got degrees in evasion.’
‘His daughter?’
‘Not answering her phone. I left a message.’ Clarke gnawed at her bottom lip. ‘How often did Salman bin Mahmoud play here?’ Fox shrugged. ‘The game with Scoular was how long ago?’
‘You know as much as I do, Siobhan.’
‘We need to talk to Scoular again, don’t we?’ The shrug became a slow nod. ‘And how much of this do you report back to Big Ger Cafferty?’
‘That’s probably best kept between me and him, wouldn’t you say? Last thing I want is for you to be dragged into this.’
‘In case it becomes messy?’
‘I’ve got a certain level of body armour.’
‘Better hope whoever comes for you doesn’t aim for the head then.’ Clarke unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her hips. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘let’s go and see if we can get under the skin of a certain reptilian property developer...’
He didn’t exactly look pleased to see them.
They had tracked him down to a restaurant just off George Street, where he was hosting a business lunch. He was still chewing as he left his guests and entered the foyer.
‘Just a couple of questions,’ Clarke said, this being as much of an apology as she was willing to offer. ‘You played golf with Salman bin Mahmoud how many times?’
‘Three, I think.’
‘How many of those at Craigentinny?’
‘Just the one.’
‘And this,’ Fox interrupted, stepping closer as a waiter squeezed past, ‘was because of your consortium’s interest in taking Craigentinny into private ownership?’
Scoular swallowed whatever was in his mouth. His eyes moved between the two detectives.
‘What’s this got to do with Salman’s murder?’
‘That’s what we’re attempting to ascertain.’
Before Scoular could add anything, Clarke lofted another question in his direction. ‘How long ago was your final game with the deceased?’
‘Maybe three weeks.’
‘Three weeks before he died?’
‘I’d have to check my diary, but thereabouts.’
‘And this was at Craigentinny?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the pair of you were discussing financing the purchase of the course?’
‘Along the way, yes.’
‘I’m guessing buying it would be a cheaper option than building a new resort from scratch elsewhere?’ Fox enquired.
‘That depends on negotiations.’
‘Always assuming you intended keeping it as a golf course. I’m guessing if the membership sums didn’t add up, you could always apply to rezone it and build a lot of nice executive homes...’
Scoular glared at Fox. ‘Which of my competitors have you been talking to? Not one of them’s to be trusted — and baseless gossip can lead to a libel action, Inspector.’
It was Clarke’s turn to step closer to Scoular as a couple of new diners entered the restaurant. ‘Seen anything of Lord Strathy recently?’ She watched his jaw tighten as he turned his attention towards her.
‘Ramsay?’ he eventually said. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘He’s one of your investors, isn’t he? Maybe I should even say “partner”?’
‘What if he is?’
‘He seems to have gone to ground.’
‘Oh?’
‘You’ve not heard from him?’
Scoular made show of looking at his watch. ‘Was there anything else?’