‘Traffic,’ Mackenzie grunted.
‘That’s always the tale in Edinburgh. Take a seat.’ There was no offer of tea or coffee; the chief inspector was surprised, until he remembered that McIlhenney drank neither. ‘So, David,’ he began, ‘what have you got to tell me? How’s the Starr investigation going?’
‘We’ve just seen his ex-wife; she’s a right brassy cow, but she’s well alibied for the time of death. So’s her husband: he’s a long-distance driver. Before that we saw Starr’s current girlfriend, Mina Clarkson. Nothing there: she had the occasional bet in his shop and he gave her one equally occasionally. That’s us done with interviewing family and associates.’
‘Leads?’
‘A few; we’re following them up.’
McIlhenney leaned across his desk. ‘And where exactly are you doing that? Pamplona in Spain? How about that?’
Mackenzie felt his chair shift under him, and realised that instinctively he had pushed it backwards. ‘I had occasion to call the police there for assistance,’ he said.
‘So I gather. And in their turn, the Guardia Civil, which has jurisdiction over all drugs crime in Spain, had occasion to call the Scottish Drug Enforcement Agency and ask them what the hell you and the local plods were doing poking your nose into an operation on which the two of them have been co-operating for months. This led to the director of the SDEA calling the head of CID and asking him much the same thing, and not very politely either. Since he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. . well, you can imagine his reaction. Mind you, you nearly didn’t have to imagine: it took all my powers of persuasion to get him to leave this to me.’
‘Neil. .’
‘Shut up!’ the superintendent snarled. ‘How do you see me? Good old Neil, amiable guy, soft touch, string him along: is that it? Was that what you thought? Well, I’ve got news for you, pal. That’s the face I show to my wife and kids, to colleagues I trust and to people I like, people who don’t upset me. Those who do get to see the other side, like you are just now. Chief Inspector, you may be pissed off about being moved to Leith, or you may be carrying some residue from the St Andrews operation. I do not know and I do not fucking care. What I do perceive is an arrogant bastard who’s on a one-man mission to prove that he’s better than anyone else in this department, and who’s prepared to jeopardise anything in its pursuit. Well, Bandit, you may be prepared to put your own career in the crapper, but don’t think that you can drag mine along with it. You don’t agree with what I’m saying? You believe your own press cuttings? You want to take me on? Try it. I’ll fucking bury you.’
Mackenzie looked back at him, making an attempt to summon up some belligerence, some sort of a defence against the onslaught, and then he folded. ‘Neil, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have told you about the drugs and the money. I was out of order. It won’t happen again.’
‘True; not on this investigation at any rate, because you’re benched.’
‘You mean I’m suspended?’
‘No, you’re on holiday. You and Cheryl are decorating the bathroom, and you’ve been planning it for some time. I’ll see you a week on Monday; then we’ll talk about second chances.’
Fifty-four
Normally, Bob Skinner preferred his dentist’s chair to the passenger seat of a car. However, on the way to Bakewell he was content to leave the driving to Shannon: he had serious thinking to do.
The inspector thought that he was asleep as she turned off the M1, skirting Chesterfield as she headed for the A619 and the Derbyshire Dales: she was startled when he spoke. ‘I brought my older daughter down here on holiday once,’ he said, ‘when she was about thirteen. Easter was late that year, and we decided to do something different. It was bloody freezing, but the pub food was terrific, and they were relaxed about letting Alex in. It’s nice countryside.’ He smiled at the memory. ‘Maybe I’ll do the same with the second lot in a few years. Jeez,’ he mused, ‘I’ll tell you, Dottie, being a one-parent family isn’t something you reckon to do once in a lifetime, but twice. .’
The revelation took Shannon by surprise; for a moment she wondered whether she should sympathise, but decided that silence was the better option. As if he sensed her unease, the DCC moved on. ‘Okay, tell me about Esther Archer.’
‘She’s Esther Craig now, aged thirty-six, and married to a baker called Elton Craig. . but you knew that already from the letter. She has two sons, Aaron, who’s eleven, and Joshua, who’s just turned eight. The family seems to go in for Biblical names. Her parents were Joshua Archer, a soldier, and Joan Hartland, who’s described as a housewife on Esther’s birth certificate. The father was killed in action, serving with Two Para in the Falklands, but the mother is still alive. However, there is no record anywhere of the birth of anyone called Moses Archer.’
‘There wouldn’t be: Adam, and the MoD, would have made sure his tracks were covered for the family’s sake. That’s why I find the houseboat so hard to figure out.’ He glanced at her. ‘What were you able to find out about that?’
‘He’s been registered as owner with the Port of London Authority for the last six years. The previous owner was a Dutch registered company: Archer bought it from them for a hundred and thirty thousand pounds, paid in full by certified cheque drawn on an account in the Premier Taiwan Bank, City of London branch.’
‘Who was the account holder?’
‘Moses Archer.’
‘Eh? Adam was a serving soldier; where the hell did he get that sort of money?’
‘I wasn’t able to establish that, sir, but I do know that he was getting it regularly. . so to speak. The account was set up seven years ago with an initial deposit of two hundred thousand pounds sterling. Much of that went on the acquisition and improvement of the Bulrush, but since then there have been annual inward transfers, for fifty thousand at first rising to a hundred and fifty thousand this year.’
‘What’s it been used for?’
‘Bills relating to the upkeep of the boat, mostly. There have been a few cash withdrawals over the years: the biggest of them was a hundred thousand, this summer. At the moment, the balance is standing at just over two hundred and ten thousand.’
‘You couldn’t trace the origin of these payments?’
‘No. All I know for sure is that they weren’t made over the counter.’
‘What about the Premier Taiwan Bank? I can’t say I’ve ever heard of it.’
‘It’s a private outfit, sir, not a high-street player: a posh people’s bank.’
‘Indeed? And who’d be feeding money into that?’
He was frowning as he took out his mobile, retrieved a stored number and called it. ‘Merle,’ Shannon heard him say, ‘it’s Bob Skinner. How’s things in your busy world?’ He chuckled. ‘Look on the bright side. You’re a section head now, with a staff, instead of being stuck in an outpost on your own. That’s got to count for something. Listen, pal, can I ask you an idle question?’ Pause. ‘The Premier Taiwan Bank: does it have any special meaning for you?’ Pause. ‘I tripped over it, that’s all; possible money-laundering.’ Pause. ‘I see. Tell you what: I’m having dinner with a friend tonight in the Charing Cross Hotel. There’s a pub round the corner called the Clarence; full of tourists, but no players. Can you meet me there?’ Pause. ‘Seven will be fine. There’s something else I’d like you to do for me, but I’ll call you later about that.’
He ended the call. ‘Friend of mine,’ he said. ‘Her name’s Merle Gower, and she’s based at the US Embassy, National Security section. That bank means something to her, but she’s not for telling me over the phone. We’ll see her tonight.’
‘We?’
‘Sure. You two should meet: you could be useful to each other.’ He glanced out of the window. ‘Bakewell, two miles. Nearly there: do you know how to find the address?’
‘I’ve got a map if we need it, but from memory we take the first right across the river, then we’re looking for a left turn.’ She paused. ‘I’d have thought that the Security Service would have had satellite navigation in their cars.’