‘Thank you very much,’ said young Morrow, when we had finished talking to the tape. ‘I’ll have these transcribed, then I’ll ask you to sign them. It’ll take about twenty minutes, half an hour at most. You can either wait, or look in again later. It’s up to you.’
‘We’ll come back in,’ I said, taking an executive decision. ‘Will you be ready by one?’
He nodded, and showed us out through the front office and into the street, where yet another traffic warden was prowling around my car. We jumped in quick and drove off, leaving her scowling in frustration.
It took us a while to find Celtic Scenery. You don’t expect to find business offices right on a dockside, but that’s where it was, tucked in behind the Malmaison Hotel, not far from the radio station.
The entire resources of the company turned out to be two networked computers, and two bright, energetic young women. This time, I left the talking to Prim.
The ladies looked at us in surprise as we entered. I guessed that theirs was a business which attracted few customers to the door. There was no counter and only one spare chair. We stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, until they stood up and came round from behind their desks.
‘Hi,’ said Prim. ‘I hope you can help us.’ She fished in her handbag and produced a driving licence. ‘I’m looking for my sister, on a very urgent family matter. She’s an actress; her name’s Dawn Phillips. And here’s mine, look.’ She held out the driving licence for the women to inspect. They looked at it, but the suspicion on their faces was unwavering.
Prim ploughed on, using everything she had to establish her credibility. ‘Rawdon Brooks, at the Lyceum, sent us down to see you. He told us that Dawn has a part in an American movie that’s being shot on location over here. He couldn’t remember the name, but he said it was a Highland epic, and he thought that you might have been involved with them.’
The women looked at each other, then at Prim, then at me, then at each other again. Finally one of them nodded, and went back to her work-station, leaving the other to deal with us. She was stocky and confident, dressed in jeans, a tee-shirt and sandals.
‘It sounds like the remake of Kidnapped;’ she said. ‘It’s Miles Grayson’s new project. He’s playing the lead and directing as usual. It’s the second time he’s used us to do setups for him.’ Her face shone with professional pride. I wasn’t surprised. Apart, maybe, from the President of the United States, the Pope and the Queen, Miles Grayson is the most famous human on the planet.
‘We don’t see the cast list,’ the woman went on, ‘so I can’t tell you if your sister’s there or not, but yes, we do know where they’ll be today.’ She paused. ‘Look, it would be more than my life was worth to send you to the set, but I’ll take a chance and tell you that they’re booked into the Falls of Lora Hotel, in Connell Ferry, tonight and tomorrow.’
‘Could we phone the hotel and check whether Dawn’s there?’ asked Prim.
The woman shook her head. ‘No. We made a block booking for them, and they won’t have checked in yet. If it’s as urgent as all that you’ll just have to go up there to look for her. It’s not that long a drive, actually. Go via Bridge of Earn and you’ll do it in about three hours.’
We thanked the girls and went back out to the dock. There was a breeze coming in off the sea. We stood there and looked around, across the grey-blue river mouth to the Waterfront Bistro, and beyond, to the new Government office building, in all its white awfulness. We grabbed a coke and a quick sandwich in the Malmaison Bar, then drove back up to the police station, parking this time outside the bakery in Elbe Street, seeking sanctuary from the wardens.
Young Morrow was in the front office as we entered the old building, at about twenty past one. ‘Sorry,’ I said, ‘did we keep you from your lunch?’ He smiled and shook his head, giving me the impression that lunch was for wimps.
‘Here you are; they’re all typed up and ready. There’s no need to go through to the Black Hole again. If you’ll just read them and sign them, that’ll be it.’
We did as we were told. I gulped inwardly as I put my pen to our economies with the truth. ‘How’s the investigation going?’ I asked, by way of conversation.
Morrow looked at me, unsmiling for the first time. He leaned towards me and whispered, so that only I could hear. ‘The boss said to me that you used to be one of us, so I’ll tell you. We identified the guy an hour ago. His name’s William Kane. He’s a stockbroker. He left his wife a wee while back, for another woman. The wife says she doesn’t know who it was, but Dylan’s going on the assumption that it was your girlfriend’s sister. So if she shows up, we’re going to want to speak to her.’
I winced with a show of concern. ‘Shit!’ I said quietly. ‘Thanks for that. I can’t believe that Dawn would get herself involved in that kind of situation, but don’t worry, if she shows up in town I’ll bring her to see you myself.’
We turned to leave. My hand was on the doorknob when he called after us. ‘Oh! Miss Phillips, I almost forgot. Mr Dylan told me to ask you about that torn fiver you picked up yesterday. He said that technically he shouldn’t have let you take anything from the house, so he asks, could he have it back for now?’
Prim looked at the young detective, all sweetness and blushing innocence. ‘I’m really sorry,’ she said, ‘but I taped the two halves together and spent it. On groceries, I think. Inspector Dylan won’t get into trouble, will he?’ Morrow smiled grimly, as if trouble for Mike Dylan wouldn’t bother him too much.
‘Let’s hope not,’ he said, untruthfully.
In which we have a visitor, and Ali does too
Heavy clouds covered the sun when we stepped out into Queen Charlotte Street. It looked as though the weather was about to break. As I drove back up Leith Walk towards the Old Town, we talked tactics, and agreed that we would head straight for the Falls of Lora Hotel. By the reckoning of the girl in Celtic Scenery, and it was her business to know these things, we would be there by five-thirty.
I looked up at the belvedere as I drew up to my parking space. ‘That’s funny. Old Wallace must think the sun’s still shining.’ Prim followed my gaze. Our loftmate was sprawled out along the window ledge, pressed to the glass as if he was trying to reach some sunshine just outside.
‘You going to like living with an iguana?’ I asked my new flatmate, as I parked.
‘Oz my dear, if I can cope with you, I could cope with a tyrannosaurus.’ She smiled. There’s something about Prim’s smile that goes straight to my knees. You can see right through it into her heart, and know that she’s happy. It’s the sort of smile that made it seem right then as if the sun was still shining inside my old Nissan, for me alone. She kissed me quickly on the cheek and jumped out of the car.
We knew that something was wrong as soon as we stepped through the front door, and saw the kitchen. All of the contents of the cupboards were laid out along the breakfast bar, every last tin of beans, every last jar of herbs.
‘Bloody hell,’ I said. ‘Those mice are getting too bloody cheeky for their own good!’
Prim beat me up the stairs, but only just. Her cry of alarm was still hanging in the air as I reached the living area. ‘Ransacked’ is a word I’d never used in my life until then. There’s nothing else in the OED quite like it, and when you think of it, it’s as descriptive as you can get. Everything I, everything we, had was laid out in neat piles. Prim’s bag was empty, on the floor. Her clothes had all been turned inside out. A dozen tampons in their paper casing were lined up neatly beside their box. I think that, more than anything else, was what made her cry.
All of the cupboard doors lay open. The drawers of my desk were stacked upon its surface, one on another. Even the lining of Wallace’s cage had been disturbed.