‘If that’s right,’ Haddock said, ‘the first place to look has to be St Lucia, since that’s where he’s from.’
‘Agreed, and I’ve called the High Commission in London. I gave them all the details I have but they say they’d need to check with the government office back home. They’re four hours behind us, so they’ll still be having their breakfast.’
‘Maybe so, but the UK passport office won’t be. How about checking whether Marlon Junior has ever applied for a passport?’
‘Been there, done that. A passport was issued in his name in the year that Marie married Duane, but it’s never been renewed. No passport has ever been issued for Robyn Hicks.’
‘But she could have a St Lucian passport through her father.’
‘Yes, but like I said,’ she hesitated for a second, ‘Sauce, I’ll need to wait for St Lucia to wake up before I can check.’
‘In that case, how about contacting the Home Office in the meantime, and asking whether a St Lucian would need a visa to get into Britain, and also whether one’s ever been issued in the name of Marlon Ryan Hicks?’
The DC grinned. ‘See? That’s why you’re a sarge and I’m just a plod.’
Thirty-Two
‘How strong is this lead of yours, Dan?’ Lottie Mann asked as they watched the ferry being secured to the Dunoon quayside. ‘You know every bloody thing that happens in our force, or in Glasgow at any rate, or you know a man who does. So where did this information come from?’
‘Just this once, Lottie, I’m not telling you.’
‘I’ll pull rank on you,’ she threatened.
‘You could pull my fuckin’ ears wi’ red hot pincers and it still wouldn’t do you any good. And before you say it again, it’s got eff all tae do with the Data Protection Act.’
‘I still find it hard to believe, you know. The concept of David Mackenzie being taken under the wing of a priest, that is.’
‘Why should that be so difficult to cope with?’ Provan challenged. ‘Are you saying you’re surprised he’s a Catholic just because he’s got an old traditional Scottish name, one beginning wi’ Mac rather an O’? All that Rangers versus Celtic stuff isn’t typical of the whole country, you know; they’re just a couple of wee cabals. . okay, maybe no’ so wee,’ he conceded. ‘Religion in Scotland was full of splits and schisms for centuries. We’re a pretty ecumenical nation: there’s nothin’ in a name.’
‘You and your philosophy and fancy words again,’ she mocked, but only playfully. Her junior officer happened to be her closest friend, and after an act of betrayal by her estranged and newly imprisoned husband, he had become her only confidant.
‘I have my hidden depths,’ he said, ‘as somebody observed last night. But I’m as intrigued as you. If there’s someone I would not have picked out as a former altar boy, it’s Bandit Mackenzie.’
‘Indeed,’ she murmured, as the ferry’s forward platform clanged down on to the stand, and as the dozen drivers on board returned to their vehicles. ‘Father Donnelly. I’ve heard of him, you know. I’ve got cousins in East Kilbride, and they talked about him.
‘He had a high profile in the town. Unorthodox, they said of him but quite a man. The feeling was that he should have been a bishop, but wasn’t because the hierarchy were afraid of him.’ She dug out her car keys from her bag. ‘So, what time’s he expecting us?’
‘He’s not. He doesn’t know we’re coming.’
‘He what?’ she boomed, loud enough for a van driver who was standing five yards away to turn his head and stare at them. ‘Are you telling me we’re going all the way to Tighnabruaich on spec? He could be on his holidays, away on a retreat, filling in for a sick priest. Retired guys do that sometimes.’
‘The man I spoke to in the Archbishop’s office says he hardly ever leaves the place, but aye, we’re turning up unannounced. We don’t just want to ask him where Mackenzie might go in a crisis, do we? We need to allow for the very realistic chance that he might have gone to the man himself. Unorthodox, you said. In my book that also means unpredictable; if our David is there, we don’t want him warned off, do we, Lottie?’
Thirty-Three
‘You are brilliant, Sauce,’ Jackie Wright declared. ‘Marlon Ryan Hicks applied for a UK entry visa four months ago. Apparently you need it if you’re from there and want to work in Britain. In June, he applied for a UK passport in that name. They’ve got a file on him; he was told that he would have to change his birth surname legally before he could get one. He did that, and his application’s now live. If you hadn’t thought to check under Hicks, we might never have known.’
‘Don’t tell him he’s brilliant, Jackie,’ Sammy Pye called across the room. ‘The last thing he needs is a seconder.’
‘Ignore him,’ Haddock laughed, as he perched in the edge of her desk. ‘You only have to take orders from him on policing matters. Any other rabbits in your hat? For example, does his passport application have an address on it?’
‘Yes it does, and surprise, surprise, it’s in Edinburgh: number seventeen Port Glasgow Road. I’ve checked it out; it’s a flat belonging to a property company, called Mycroft Residential Limited. The directors are Derek Drysalter, and Alafair Drysalter, but they don’t own it; the shares are vested in a holding company called Rodatrop PLC.’
Pye had moved across to join them. ‘Derek Drysalter?’ he repeated. ‘When I was a kid, in my mid-teens, I remember a guy called Drysalter playing for the Hibs, and for Scotland. I’m pretty sure his first name was Derek. The Hibees paid Newcastle big bucks for him, but his career came to a sad end. He was a hit-and-run victim; his legs were so badly smashed up that he never played again. He did a wee bit on telly as a pundit, then he had a couple of jobs as a manager with Scottish Premier League teams. I haven’t heard of him for a while, though.’
‘The rebranded Marlon Hicks isn’t a footballer, is he?’ Haddock asked.
‘If he is, he’s not doing it professionally. I went on to the DSS again; he was given an NI number under his new name, and he’s found himself a job as a mechanic, looking after a fleet of cars belonging to Sherlock Private Hire.
‘Most people know about them. They’re the biggest luxury car hire company in Edinburgh. If your daughter’s getting married, that’s where you go if you’re out to impress the in-laws. Funerals too. There’s an associated company, Sherlock Funeral Undertakers. It has offices around Edinburgh and the Lothians, but the car firm’s based in Longstone.’
‘Then let’s go up there and have a word with the boy.’ The DS rose and looked at the DI. ‘You and me, boss, or will I take Jackie?’
‘You take her; she deserves it. But hold on; bells are ringing here. Mycroft Residential, Sherlock Private Hire, Sherlock Funerals: those names tend to point in a certain direction. Have you checked these companies out, DC Wright?’
‘Not yet, sir. I was just about to look them up on the Companies House website.’
‘You do that, but I will bet you they are also subsidiaries of the PLC you mentioned, Rodatrop. Did you pick up anything about that?’
‘There’s very little different about it. It has the same directors. The only additional fact I was able to glean is that Derek Drysalter isn’t a shareholder. Alafair is, though, one of two. The other’s a man called Peter Hastings McGrew.’
Pye beamed. ‘You little beauty! It’s you that’s the real genius around here.’
He turned on his heel and walked back into his office, closing the door behind him and leaving the others staring after him, Wright bewildered, but Haddock wide-eyed. As they watched, they saw him drop into his chair and snatch the phone from its cradle.
The DI was unaware of them as he dialled a number from a list on his desk. ‘Sammy,’ Mario McGuire said as he picked up, sounding a shade irritable. ‘I thought I told you to go through DCS Chambers.’