‘Miss Jackson works here too?’
Tannock nodded. ‘Serena and Daniel were part of the firm, Chief Inspector. Rather like an extended family, I suppose. They never seemed to want to do anything else but work with their father.’
‘And Mrs Jackson?’
‘No. Lady Jackson didn’t come here all that much. Lots of other commitments, you see.’
Lorimer winced at his faux pas, though Tannock’s stress on the word Lady had been minimal.
‘And Miss Jackson, what is her role in Jackson Tannock, might I ask?’
Tannock looked at him through narrowed eyes and Lorimer wondered if the man thought this an impertinent question. Tough, he told himself. It was his job to ask awkward questions. And he hadn’t actually answered his initial question about Serena Jackson, he suddenly noticed.
‘Serena didn’t have a particular role in the firm as such,’ Tannock began, avoiding Lorimer’s direct look. ‘She was more of a sort of ambassador for us. Looked after the clients’ social arrangements and that sort of thing,’ he added in a way that Lorimer guessed was deliberately vague. Serena Jackson had acquired a sinecure within the firm by the sounds of it, he told himself. That was something his DI had failed to mention. Was she deliberately trying to play down her friendship with the Jacksons? It was odd, surely, when Martin could so easily have provided such background details.
The Detective Superintendent’s expression remained quizzical and in the ensuing silence Tannock shifted in his seat as if uncomfortable under that distinctive blue gaze. It was something that many hardened criminals had experienced in the confinement of a police interview room; something that could and sometimes did cause them to reveal things they’d have preferred to keep hidden.
‘Serena wasn’t really qualified to take over anything on the technical or financial side of the firm,’ Tannock said at last. ‘Lovely girl, though: a real asset to us in all sorts of other ways.’
Lorimer nodded his understanding. Serena Jackson was possibly a decorative part of the outfit, kept by her father, given nominal status and probably a grossly inflated salary. If she’d been a child sheltered from the harshness of the real world it was not surprising that she’d cracked up after the double tragedy of losing her parents: a tragedy that no amount of money could change.
‘Do you have family yourself, sir?’ Lorimer inquired. It was not an idle question. He wondered if any Tannock offspring had been treated like the two Jackson kids.
‘Three, actually.’ Tannock smiled with genuine pleasure. ‘One’s a consultant anaesthetist in London, one’s making a fortune in Texas and the other runs a publishing house.’
‘You must be proud of them.’
‘I am, Superintendent. And Sir Ian was just as proud of his two children,’ Tannock added quietly, his shrewd glance showing that he hadn’t missed the import of Lorimer’s questions.
‘It might sound a little melodramatic, sir, but did Sir Ian have any enemies?’ Lorimer asked, changing the subject.
‘I don’t know, Superintendent, and that’s the truth. Ian and I had known one another for many years. Our partnership had grown much closer since we formed the business, naturally. But I wasn’t privy to all of his financial dealings, you must understand, just to those that affected Jackson Tannock.’
‘He had other businesses?’
‘Oh, yes. Ian had what you might describe as a varied portfolio. Some of his assets were in overseas companies pre-dating the launch of Jackson Tannock and demanded comparatively little of his time, but they were lucrative nonetheless.’
‘And you think there may have been something in one of these companies that could have engendered enough hate to cause his death?’
Tannock sat up suddenly, alarmed at the brutality of Lorimer’s question.
‘I didn’t say that, Superintendent. Nor did I at any time imply such a thing!’
‘But it is a possibility?’ Lorimer added quietly.
‘How would I know?’ Tannock threw his hands in the air. ‘Ian didn’t confide such things to me. Ever. And if there had been something troubling him I think I would have been the first to notice.’
Lorimer nodded, wanting to say Yes, Mr Tannock, I think you would. This man was a perceptive sort, he guessed, and would be good at reading the people who came into his orbit.
He sighed then shook his head. ‘We have to try to understand what sort of person would deliberately begin a fire when two people were inside that house. So we naturally look for a reason.’
The two men looked at one another for a long moment, then Tannock sank back into the squashy settee.
‘We thought it must have been kids from Port Glasgow. A stupid dare that went wrong,’ he muttered. Then once more he caught Lorimer’s gaze. ‘But you wouldn’t be here just now if that was what you thought. Right?’
‘It looks increasingly like a case of premeditated murder,’ Lorimer told him. Okay, that was perhaps stretching the truth a little, but he had a hunch that Dodgson’s evidence was going to turn up trumps. He could suggest something to provoke a reaction. See what way Tannock would jump.
‘I don’t know, really, I don’t. To kill a man who’d done so much good in his life. And an innocent woman,’ he tailed off, his voice beginning to show the first signs of real emotion.
Lorimer watched as the man took a folded white handkerchief from his inside pocket and blew noisily into it. He had seen lots of people simulate grief before. But this seemed quite genuine to him. Suddenly the trappings of wealth, the glorious view from this huge window, were diminished by the bowed figure before him who had lost his business partner. And more than a business partner, Lorimer realised. From the way he looked right now it was clear that Ian Jackson had been this man’s friend.
‘C’n I speak tae Mr Lorimer?’
Maggie frowned for a moment then, as she recognised his voice, her face creased into a huge smile. ‘Flynn!’ she exclaimed. ‘How are you?’
‘Aye, awright. I wis wantin tae speak tae the man. Is he in?’
‘Not at the moment, Flynn. Can I get him to call you back?’
‘Aw, away catchin crims, is he?’ the voice replied, a hint of humour making Maggie smile.
‘I’m just going out myself, Flynn,’ Maggie said, then paused. Mum had helped this lad when he’d been down on his luck. ‘My mum’s in hospital,’ she told him.
‘Mrs Finlay? Whit’s wrang? Naethin serious I hope.’
Maggie bit her lip then took a deep breath. ‘She’s had a stroke, I’m afraid. We don’t know how long she’ll be in…’
‘Hey, that’s terrible, man!’ Flynn said. ‘Are ye goin therr on yer own? I’m up the town the now. Here, I can get a bus and be over and see her masel, if ye want. Whit ward’s she in?’
Maggie could have hugged him. Flynn’s presence was exactly what she’d like tonight. And she bet that her mum would as well. Glancing at her watch, Maggie told him the visiting times and described the ward her mum was in.
‘Aye, jist in thon main block. No so very far frae where I was, right?’
Flynn’s words brought it all back to Maggie, then. She’d been away in Florida, her husband all on his own here at home. There had been the murder in Glasgow Royal Concert Hall and Flynn, a young homeless lad who’d hung about the place, had been seriously injured during the ensuing investigation. After his discharge from the Southern General, Lorimer had taken him home to look after him, something that the childless school teacher had resented at first. But it had been Maggie’s choice to be away from Scotland that winter and Flynn had become almost part of the family by the time she returned. Her mum, in particular, had had a soft spot for the lad and they’d kept in touch ever since. Now he worked for Glasgow Parks Department over on the south side of the city, not too far from his flat in Govanhill.
Maggie put the phone down thoughtfully. She hoped the boy wasn’t in any sort of trouble. He’d been in with a bad crowd, dealing in drugs, but the accident had given Flynn some sort of sense of his own mortality, Lorimer had told her, and so he’d changed his ways, big time.