‘Andy said that Manson couldn’t help you,’ Leggat remarked.
‘He didn’t tell us where to look, but the mere fact that he was worried enough to contact a private security firm and hire a couple of ex-squaddies, that tells me he thinks he’s under threat from someone.’ I headed for my office, motioning the DI to follow. ‘Where have we got in this investigation, Fred?’ I asked as he closed the door.
‘Newcastle,’ he replied, ‘and that’s it.’
‘Manson did make a good point,’ I told him. ‘How did these guys get hold of Marlon, so quietly that we haven’t picked up a trace of it? And where did they pick him up?’
‘Could he have arranged to meet them?’ he wondered.
‘It’s a thought. What’s the last sighting of him?’
Leggat frowned, and scratched his head. ‘When he left his mother’s house last Tuesday?’
‘No, Bella said he came home after that, and then went out again. She didn’t know where, though. Pub, probably. Where did he drink?’
‘Search me, Bob.’
‘Sorry, Fred, I was talking to myself there. But there’s somebody who might be able to tell us.’ I called Bella Watson’s mobile from my desk phone; she answered quickly, as if she’d been expecting a call. ‘Do you still have your babysitter?’ I asked.
‘Aye,’ she grunted.
‘Then put him on.’ I waited for the giant. ‘Lennie,’ I said, ‘did you see much of Marlon, in the course of business?’
‘We were in touch,’ he replied. ‘And, of course, he drank in the Vaults.’
‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say. When did you see him last?’
‘Monday. He was in on Monday.’
‘Do you remember anything about him? Was he nervous in any way?’
‘No.’ He paused. ‘Hey, wait a minute, he was in on Tuesday, late afternoon. He brought a licence renewal application for the pub that had come in the boss’s morning mail.’
‘But not in the evening?’
‘No. In fact as he was leaving I heard one of the barmen say to him, “See you later.” But Marlon said no, that he wouldn’t be in. He said he’d somewhere else to go… and he was smiling when he said it, as if it was a hot date.’
‘It sure was, Lennie. Thanks.’ I hung up. ‘Progress,’ I told Leggat. ‘It looks as if Watson went to meet these guys, knowingly or not. How was that meeting arranged, I wonder?’
I picked up the phone again. Manson had two lines in the big house. One was in the directory; the other wasn’t, but it was in my personal collection. I looked it out and dialled it.
‘How the fuck did you get this number?’ he growled, when he realised that I was his mystery caller.
‘Please, Tony. Did you really think I wouldn’t have it?’
‘You lot aren’t listening in, are you? I’ll sue if you are.’
‘No, we’re not,’ I told him, truthfully. ‘We’d need a warrant for that. I can’t speak for MI5, of course; they’re taking an interest in organised crime these days.’ I added that out of pure devilment. ‘I need to know something. Did Marlon Watson have a mobile phone?’
There was a silence, as if he was considering whether to give me the time of day. He must have decided that he had nothing to lose by it. ‘Aye, he had one. I gave it to him so I could reach him any time I needed him.’
‘Contract, or pay and go?’ Silly question, Skinner, I told myself. The phone would be chucked away every time its credit expired and replaced with a new one, new number. Standard practice in the hidden world, even then.
‘What do you think?’ Manson chuckled. I hung up on him.
Leggat was looking at me, waiting for the outcome. I nodded. No more was needed. ‘I’ll check with the mortuary,’ he said. ‘It should be among his possessions.’
‘It should,’ I agreed, ‘so why do I have a feeling that it won’t be?’
It took him less than five minutes to confirm that my hunch had been spot on.
‘Maybe Milburn will still have it on him, when they find him,’ he suggested.
‘He might, if he’s a hoarder, but the SIM card will probably be ashes by now, and that’s where all the call information would have been.’
Fred’s scepticism showed in his face. ‘Does that not strike you as pretty thorough for somebody whose crime file doesn’t mark him out as a thinker?’
‘It does, but let’s wait till we have him in our custody. How did you leave that with Newcastle?’
‘They’re checking all likely haunts, plus the passenger manifests of all recent flights and ferries out of the city. They’re going to give us a progress report at five, if they haven’t found him before then.’
‘Meanwhile we just sit on our hands. I’m bloody useless at that.’ Through my door’s glass panel, I saw Jeff Adam approach. I waved him in, keen to mend a broken fence.
‘NCIS do not have any record of connection between Winston Church and Tony Manson,’ he reported, ‘directly or indirectly. They don’t have any shared associates. Church doesn’t have any known links to Scotland at all. Indeed the intelligence is that he has enough on his hands just keeping control of his own territory without looking to move in on anyone else’s. He’s getting on, and some of his younger associates are reckoned to be hungry. For example, the job that the man Leonard’s doing time for was a robbery of a pub in Durham that’s owned by his brother-in-law.’
That was interesting. ‘So it’s possible that Milburn and Shackleton… let’s assume that he’s the second man… were operating independently of Church?’
‘That could be,’ Adam said. ‘Nature abhors a vacuum.’
I laughed. ‘Hell, Jeff, that’s a bit profound. I know it’s still a while to five o’clock but go and rattle Newcastle’s cage for me.’
‘Meanwhile,’ I murmured as he and Leggat left, ‘what about the other?’ Of course, as soon as I turned my attention to the ‘gay blade’ murders, I thought of Alison, and that made me think of Mia. If I’d known that Milburn and his mate hadn’t even been found, far less on their way into my tender hands, I might not have left her place, and. ..
Distance had lent me a bit of objectivity, but the old saw about enchantment was working as well. I wanted Mia, no question; she filled me with an excitement that I’d forgotten. But Alison: she meant a lot to me, safety, security, friendship, comfort, plus we were there already, a couple of sorts, even if it was only part-time. ‘She isn’t Bella Watson’s daughter either,’ I whispered, then cast the thought aside, as quickly as it had appeared in my mind. I relived that kiss, and I felt myself tingling all over again. Yes, I wanted the woman, but did I have the bottle to take her, and to live with whatever consequences that brought?
I jumped when the phone rang. I snatched it up, barked, ‘Skinner,’ and felt my face flush as soon as I heard Alison’s voice.
‘Sorry,’ she said, cautiously. ‘Are you busy with something?’
Nothing you’d want to hear, I thought. ‘No, sorry, I was miles away.’ Indeed, I’d been at Gleneagles, mentally. ‘Whassup? Where are you?’
‘I’m at the mortuary. Professor Hutchinson is just finishing the post-mortem on Albie McCann. I thought it might be a good idea if he went straight on and did Archie Weir’s and he’s agreed.’
‘That’s an excellent idea.’ But it would be tough on her; sitting in on two autopsies, back to back, so to speak. ‘Do you want me to come up?’ I asked. I had an ulterior motive; if wee Joe Hutchinson’s workplace didn’t stop me thinking about peeling Mia Sparkles like a grape, nothing would.
‘That would be good,’ she admitted. ‘We still don’t have absolute confirmation that they were both killed by the same man, and I’d welcome your input.’
‘Plus you’d like me to hold your hand.’
‘No!’ she snapped, then hesitated. ‘Well…’
‘Hey,’ I told her, ‘if I’d been through the first one, I’d be calling you for company. Besides, depending on what Joe finds, it might be useful for both of us to be there.’
I picked up my phone and my car keys and stepped into the outer office. I told Fred Leggat where I was bound, and confirmed with Jeff Adam that the Geordies had yet to turn up any trace of Glenn Milburn and his mate, then headed for the door.