‘They’re quiet, boss. I had that psychic woman on again, though.’
‘Who did it this time? The ghost of Harold Shipman?’
‘She didn’t mention him. But she did say that Padstow’s too young, and that we should be looking for an older man, and fiendishly clever too. She’s gone off the idea of a woman, but she’s sticking to the Professor Moriarty theory.’
‘Since you told her we were looking for a man.’
‘True.’
‘Did you hang up on her again?’
‘No, I thanked her very much and said that I’d pass her information on to my inspector, and that maybe he’d arrange for the picture of Padstow to be made to look a bit more mature. Then I hung up.’
‘Poor woman.’ Steele chuckled. ‘Next time, take her name and phone number, just to make her feel valued.’
Singh stared at him. ‘You don’t go for any of that stuff, do you, sir? Mediums and that?’
‘Absolutely not. Yet I’m a wee bit on her side. Okay, everything’s pointing us to Padstow; normally that would make it easy. But just because he’s left a trail and given us a break, I don’t think we should underestimate him. We don’t know who he really is, he’s still out there, and he’s bloody dangerous. That’s more or less what your lady caller was telling you, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose so. Okay, boss, next time she calls, I’ll treat her like my auntie.’
‘You do that, but don’t hang around waiting for her. Ray’s back here today. When he gets in, I’ve got a job for the two of you. I want you to interview a woman called Hope Dell, and a business called High-end Talent, up King George IV Bridge; source the number yourself. She’s Harry Paul’s agent; she’s probably not going to be able to tell you much, but you never know, if he was a target. . We have to talk to her, and that’s all there is to it. Show her the Padstow picture; maybe it’ll ring a bell.’
He turned and walked towards Montell’s work-station. ‘Griff, you wanted to talk to me.’ The big South African nodded. He looked in need of a shave, and Steele realised that he was still wearing the same shirt as the day before. ‘Have you been here all night?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I was working on this computer till late, so I crashed out in the rest room. I’m fine, though. I had a wash and I’ve been out for breakfast.’
‘I didn’t mean you to do that, man. It’s above and beyond the call.’
Montell raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you going to accuse me of sucking up to the bosses again? I know Wilding doesn’t like me, but I hope you’ll be fair.’
‘Don’t be so fucking prickly. For a start, it’s Detective Sergeant Wilding to you. As for me, I respect commitment, and I won’t make fun of it. How much progress have you made with the computer?’
‘There are a couple of things on it that I need to talk to you about,’ he nodded towards the unoccupied office, ‘and it had better be in there.’
‘Come on, then,’ said Steele, and led the way into the glass-walled sanctuary. ‘Okay,’ he asked, as Montell closed the door, ‘what’s the big mystery?’
‘I’ll get to that, sir, but first, remember that phone number that we saw on Zrinka’s contact list? It was listed under the initials RG?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s a pay-as-you-go number, non-contract, the kind you top up, but I’ve managed to trace the owner. It’s an O2 number, one of a batch allocated to the Carphone Warehouse and sold through their outlet at the Gyle shopping centre six months ago. I managed to contact them last night, and they found the transaction and the buyer’s name. They know it wasn’t an alias since it was paid for with a credit card. The phone belongs to Russ Gavin, Stacey’s dad.’
‘Russ? Why the hell would Zrinka have his private mobile number?’
‘Good question, sir, but there’s more to come. Just on a hunch, I asked the company if they have any other listings for that family. They have: the Gavins have a family contract under which Russ, Doreen and Stacey all had phones. We know that Stacey’s was stolen by her killer, but the other two are still active. So why did he need another?’
‘I guess you and I are going to have to ask him that, Griff. But first we should have another talk with Amy Noone, to see if she knows anything.’
‘Yeah, I reckon.’
‘And we will,’ Steele went on, ‘but there was nothing there that you couldn’t have said in front of Tarvil. So what else have you found?’
Montell winced. ‘This is where it gets tricky, very tricky. Remember Dražen’s e-mail and the reference to a man, an important man by the sound of it, contacting her about one of her pictures?’
‘Yes; he said good for her, but don’t get too friendly.’
‘That’s right. Well, boss, when I checked her e-mails I found one from someone saying that he owned one of her works, and he’d like to buy another, or even commission one, as a birthday present for his daughter. The incoming e-mail address was robertmorgan, at downline dot co dot UK. He told her that his address wouldn’t accept replies from people outside a very tight circle, so he asked her to call him, and left a mobile number. I tried to trace that, and ran up against a brick wall. Nobody would talk to me. So I tried to trace the e-mail subscriber through the ISP. Same result.’
‘Why didn’t you just call the number?’
‘I was about to when DI Shannon from Special Branch came storming in here. She threatened to rip my fucking balls off, told me to make no further enquiries and ordered me, as she put it, to make fucking sure that you went up to see her at Fettes as soon as you got in this morning.’
Steele’s eyes blazed with sudden anger, in a way that Montell had never seen before. ‘Hey, boss, I’m only repeating what she said,’ he protested.
‘Don’t worry,’ the inspector told him, ‘I’m not swinging an axe at your neck. Dottie Shannon’s got my home number: if she’s got a gripe with a member of my team she should use it. She wants to see me and she will, but she isn’t going to enjoy the experience; that I promise you.’
‘What do you think it is? Have I stumbled on somebody under surveillance, or on witness protection?’
‘Dunno. I’ll find out when I get to Fettes. Meantime, Amy Noone’s on hold, Griff. We’ll go to her salon, once I’ve dealt with Dottie. I’ll drop you at your place on the way there and pick you up again when I’m done. No offence, old son, but you really could do with a shower and a change of kit.’
Forty-four
They found a small enamelled plate set in a wall, beside a tenement doorway a few yards south of the city’s Central Library, opposite the Soviet-style monolith that houses Scotland’s National Library, and many of its greatest treasures.
‘High-end Talent,’ Ray Wilding read. ‘Top floor. Funny, big man, isn’t it?’ he mused, to Tarvil Singh. ‘There’s an unwritten rule that says that whenever we visit a building like this, the office we want is always on the top fucking floor. Stevie Steele tells a story about being out with Dan Pringle once, and they had a climb like this. They get to the top and Dan gasps, with the breath he’s got left, “After this, a refreshment will be in order.” Any excuse for him, though.’
‘And you,’ Singh grunted. ‘You used to work for him, remember.’
Wilding grinned. ‘We’ll see. Let’s go.’
They stepped through the door, into a narrow corridor, and began the climb up a stone staircase. ‘Talking about bevvy,’ said the detective constable, as they passed the first landing, ‘do you think it’s true, about that being the real reason why DCI Mackenzie’s off sick?’
‘That’s what the gossip mill says, after he was seen coming out of a clinic. But I don’t know, any more than you do. All I do know is that the division’s run better with Stevie in charge. My worry is that if Mackenzie does come back, the place won’t be big enough for the two of them. He might sort out that boy Montell, though.’
‘You want some advice, Sarge,’ Singh grunted, beginning to pant as he heaved his bulk up the stairway.
‘Go on, then.’