‘I’ll ask for bail,’ Birtles told him.
‘I imagine you will. I’m not of a mind to oppose it, unless the police have a strong view that I should. Inspector?’
Stallings shook her head. ‘No, sir,’ she said, ‘we won’t ask for a remand in custody. However. .’ she paused for emphasis ‘. . I do want, as a condition of bail, that Weekes be forbidden from contacting or approaching his former wife, Lisanne Weekes, and his by now, I reckon, ex-girlfriend, PC Mae Grey. It’s possible that both these women may be witnesses against him.’
‘Frankie?’
‘I’ve got no problem with that.’
‘In that case,’ Broughton announced, ‘I’ll see you in court in about an hour. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like a further word with the officers.’
Birtles smiled, going from severe to attractive in an instant. ‘I’m sure you would,’ she said, sliding her papers into a black leather document holder, and heading for the door.
The fiscal watched her leave. ‘The lad,’ he began, as the door closed. ‘What do we know about his movements on the morning of the Sugar Dean murder? We know where PC Weekes was, but what about him?’
‘He was a boarder at the school,’ McGurk replied. ‘The problem is that by the time the body was found, it had broken up and the other pupils were scattered to the four winds. We’ve been as thorough as we could: we located his dormitory warden and interviewed her. She says that he came in for breakfast at nine sharp. They were given a lie-in that morning as it was the last day of the session. She hadn’t seen him before that, though. She gave us the names of some of his pals; since he left his digs in France we’ve been contacting as many as we can find, but they’ve all been pretty vague. What we have been told, though, more than once, is that Davis is a very fit lad, and that he often got up early and went for a run.’
‘So it’s possible that he ran up to the golf course, intercepted the victim and shot her, then got back in time for a late bowl of All Bran?’
‘All other things being equal; for example, him having access to a firearm, yes.’
‘So why wasn’t he taken seriously as a suspect from the start? Because of his dad?’
‘Because there was no reason to, Mr Broughton,’ said the sergeant. ‘The victim’s parents spoke well of him. The night before the murder he took her to meet his folks, and they all got on. The day after, they were supposed to be meeting up in France for what was shaping up as a pretty intimate holiday. Where does any of that put him in the frame?’
The fiscal nodded. ‘Well put, Jack. You’re right: I accept that. And then, of course, PC Weekes lumbered on to the scene and offered himself up as the perpetrator.’ He looked at Stallings. ‘Be in no doubt, Inspector, regardless of what’s happened elsewhere, I still fancy him. But before I lay it all on him, we must pursue the Colledge alternative. Do all you can to find him. When you do, I want him brought back up to Edinburgh for questioning. There will be no cosy chat in Mummy and Daddy’s drawing room, with them eyeballing the proceedings. I need you to interview him in the same room and under the same conditions as Weekes, and I want you to go just as hard at him as you did on the tapes I heard this morning. Squeeze him and see what pops out. Don’t worry about comeback from the Shadow Defence Secretary. I’ll deal with any flak from that quarter.’ He winked. ‘You never heard anything like that from the Crown Prosecution Service, did you?’
She returned his smile. ‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I never even got to talk to them.’
Fifty-seven
‘Can it be done?’ Adrian St John repeated. ‘Yes, Chief Superintendent, it can be done. It’s an unusual request to be coming directly from a Scottish police force, rather than through Special Branch at the Yard, but we can access that information.’
‘That’s good,’ said Maggie Steele.
‘We can do it, but. . You understand that I’ll need to take it up the line for authorisation. I know I was told to co-operate with you, but this is a bit special.’
‘Adrian, I don’t care if you clear it with the Prime Minister, as long as it gets done.’
‘I won’t have to go that high.’ He laughed. ‘Top floor will do.’
‘How long will that take?’
‘If I’m lucky, two minutes.’
‘And if you’re not?’
‘If I’m not, I’ll come back to you. . or that someone up the line will.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’
‘If I’m asked why you need this information, what should I say?’
‘That the people under surveillance may be attempting to contact a fugitive from justice.’
‘That isn’t normally our concern.’
‘Come on, now,’ said Maggie, sharply. ‘We’re all playing for the same team.’
‘Yes, but. .’ he paused ‘… if you want to continue with the sporting analogy, we all have different roles. You’re a striker, whereas I’m one of those unsung chaps labouring away in mid-field.’
‘In that case, think of it this way. The boys at the back have let a goal in. I’m after the equaliser.’
‘Indeed? Let me ask you something. Should this task you’ve asked me to undertake lead to me slipping you a scoring opportunity, how do you propose to convert it?’
‘Like any good striker. I’ll improvise.’
‘That may be more difficult than you think. Are you aware of the terms of the new extradition treaty between the US and Britain?’
‘Not really: I’ve never had occasion to use it.’
‘Think yourself lucky. It’s a one-way street. It means that the Americans can have anyone they ask for without presenting any sort of a meaningful case against them, whereas we still have to show solid evidence of guilt. In this case, since the man you’re after has disappeared, your greatest difficulty. . should, by some miracle, you make an arrest. . may be in proving that the man you’ve caught is who you say he is.’
‘Adrian,’ she asked, ‘how do you know who I’m after?’
‘I had dealings with your colleagues a few months ago,’ he told her. ‘On that occasion they were tracing Boras junior. My guess is that you still are.’
‘You’re too clever for your own good.’
‘That has been said, Chief Superintendent. That’s why I’ve been running my own checks on the logged movements of Davor Boras’s plane ever since his son disappeared. If anyone’s made contact, it isn’t him. The thing hasn’t left its hangar since it returned from its unauthorised journey to the USA.’
Fifty-eight
‘Your Scottish courts don’t waste any time,’ said Becky Stallings. ‘That can’t have taken more than a couple of minutes. I’d have had to write off the best part of a day for this in London.’
She glanced from the gateway to Edinburgh Sheriff Court back towards its doorway.
‘It’s a cost thing,’ McGurk replied. ‘You know how we Jocks are when it comes to watching the pennies. The Scottish Courts Administration lays down the limits: ninety seconds maximum for a first appearance, twenty minutes for a guilty plea, mitigation speech and sentence, one week for a murder trial, two for fraud.’
The inspector gasped. ‘You’re kidding,’ she exclaimed.
‘Sure, but I had you for a second or two, admit it.’
‘You bastard. Somewhere along the line you’re going to suffer for that.’
‘It’ll be worth it. Forget golf: taking the piss out of the English is our real national sport. Hasn’t Ray taught you that yet?’
Stallings let a half-smile cross her face. ‘Our relationship is still too new for DS Wilding to be taking chances.’
‘Jeez. It must be the real thing if that one’s minding his manners.’
‘You’ve worked with him?’
‘For a bit, back in Dan Pringle’s time.’
‘Dan Pringle?’
‘My old boss, latterly head of CID. He retired last year. He didn’t have blue-eyed boys, but. . let’s just say that Ray and I got on pretty well with him. Old-fashioned cop.’