‘You did, boss,’ he acknowledged, ‘and I’ll phone her as soon as I’ve spoken to you, but you’re going to want to know this, soonest. You asked me about a man called McGrew. His name’s just cropped up. We’ve located Bella Watson’s grandson; he calls himself Hicks now, and it appears that he’s working for a company owned by McGrew and his sister.’
He looked up, to see Haddock in the doorway. ‘Loudspeaker.’ The DS mouthed the word. Pye looked puzzled, but did as he asked.
‘Are you sure about that?’ the ACC exclaimed, his voice echoing in the small room.
‘Certain.’
‘But that’s weird.’
‘It sure is, sir,’ Sauce intervened. ‘Don’t ask me my source, please, and Sammy, don’t kick my arse, because I really was going to tell you, only things got in the way, but I’ve spoken to someone who knew Hastie McGrew in the old days. He told me that if he’s around and Bella Watson’s dead, the two could well be connected.’
Thirty-Four
Looking back, I find myself wondering whether I should have guessed how the story might develop when Mario called me that day.
Maybe, but it would have been a hell of a big mental leap, and even if I had made it, what could I have done?
McGuire was buzzing when he came on the phone; I could feel his excitement down the line, and knew that he was itching to tell me something. He managed to scratch it for a while, though, for he began with a question.
‘Have your people come up with any intel on Hastie McGrew yet?’ he asked.
‘That’s well-timed,’ I told him. ‘Sandra Bulloch, my assistant, just reported back to me. He’s registered his sister’s address with the probation service.’
‘In Edinburgh, I take it.’
‘Yes. You know it. You’ve been there, with me, a long time ago. Or had you forgotten?’
‘Hell no!’ He sounded offended by the very notion that he might have, then proved the depth of his recollection. ‘We went there straight after we’d visited Derek Drysalter in hospital, didn’t we, after he had his so-called accident. She’d had one too, of the domestic variety; she was wearing big sunglasses to cover it. Their place was up near Blackford Hill. So they’ve never moved?’
‘They’re still there,’ I confirmed. ‘They must have a thing for crap nouveau riche architecture. I’ve heard very little of Alafair in the last few years. We kept an eye on her for a while after her father died, and what was then the national crime squad also monitored all Hastie’s visitors, and all his communications from prison. We wanted to make sure they couldn’t carry on where their father left off, but there was no sign of them trying to do that. Alafair doesn’t have the brains, anyway, and Hastie, he’s never had the opportunity.’
‘Who did visit him?’ McGuire asked. ‘Did you ask your exec to find that out?’ I could still sense that tingle.
‘Of course I did,’ I said. ‘Do you think I’m slipping?’ I wasn’t sure of his answer, so I didn’t wait for it.
‘For the first three years, his sister was his only visitor. In his fourth year, she took Derek Drysalter with her. You probably remember that Derek didn’t even know he had a brother-in-law, until Hastie went to prison. After that Derek came three or four times a year; sometimes with Alafair, sometimes on his own. In his sixth year, they brought their daughter; her name’s Peri, spelt P, E, R, I, and she was two at her first visit.’
‘So she’ll be in her teens by now?’
‘Yup, around the same age my Alex was when you and I first worked together, when all that shit with Hastie happened. Those three are all the family that McGrew has, and all the way through his sentence, he’s only ever had one other visitor, a man called Vanburn Gayle.’
‘That name’s vaguely familiar.’
‘It should be, if you remember everything about that case. Vanburn was Perry Holmes’s carer, his nurse-cum-masseur. He had two people looking after him; Hastie was the other.
‘When I saw that name it opened a whole can of worms. I have never believed that Perry managed to drown himself, whatever the official verdict is. He had help. The investigators looked at Vanburn as a possible helper, but they found pretty quickly that he had quit and left town a few weeks before it happened, so he was crossed off the list. . but it’s interesting that he should show up a few years later, visiting his old boss’s son in prison.’
‘Are you saying I should reopen the investigation into Holmes’s death?’ Mario asked.
‘Not for a minute,’ I told him, emphatically. ‘There would be no chance of a conviction, so it would be a waste of resources. Tony Manson was probably behind it, and he’s long gone. Nevertheless …’
‘I know, you’re wondering whether Hastie might have decided to put his old man out of his misery and got Vanburn either to do it or to set it up.’
‘I am,’ I admitted, ‘but only wondering, mind. I don’t actually care. If nobody’d been looking I might have drowned the evil fucker myself.’
McGuire let that one pass unremarked upon. ‘How did McGrew behave in prison?’ he asked instead.
‘From what Sandra found out, he kept his head down, he did his time, and he got parole more or less as soon as he’d finished his tariff. He wasn’t in much of a position to make trouble, even if he’d been of a mind to. Physically, he couldn’t have.’
‘Why not?’
‘Think back again, Mario. Hastie was in the army, and saw a bit of action. He was wounded and it left him with a permanent weakness in his left hand and forearm. When we went to arrest him for those murders, he resisted and got shot in the right hand.’
‘I remember that,’ McGuire said, ‘and I remember who shot him too.’
‘That’s by the by. The point is that the bullet destroyed the thumb joint and first knuckle, doubling his previous handicap. If he wanted to cut a pizza in the nick he had to get somebody to do it for him.
‘My alarm bells went off when I learned that he could have found out where Bella Watson was living, but from what I’ve been told about how she was killed, it couldn’t have been Hastie. You can ask Sarah, but I’m sure she’ll confirm what I’m telling you, that it would have taken a degree of hand strength that he doesn’t possess.’
‘I see. That’s very interesting.’ I’d expected him to sound deflated, but he didn’t. ‘Now can I give you my news?’
I laughed. ‘Could I stop you?’
‘Probably not,’ he conceded. ‘I’ve been doing some reminiscing of my own, about Marlon’s funeral, and who was there.’
No, you’re not slipping, Skinner, I told myself, after it had taken me no more than a couple of seconds to spot where he was going.
‘The girlfriend,’ I said, ‘Marlon’s pregnant girlfriend. She came with her pals, but Bella took her away in the car when it was over. What was her name?’
‘Marie Ford, but she called herself Lulu. The baby was a boy, christened Marlon Ryan, Lulu moved on and married a West Indian engineer called Hicks, and they moved back to his home island.’
‘I like a story with a happy ending,’ I remarked.
‘So do I,’ McGuire agreed. ‘But this one’s not over. I’m still trying to work out how Bella Watson’s grandson, raised in St Lucia, came to be employed by and housed by, as he is, companies owned by the children of the man who ordered the deaths of his father and his uncle. Is that not the biggest coincidence you’ve ever come across?’
‘McGuire,’ I retorted, ‘have I or have I not been telling you for going on the last twenty years that when it comes to murder I do not believe in coincidences?’
‘You have indeed, Bob.’
‘So what’s your next step?’
‘You know what it’ll be.’
‘I do indeed, Mario, I do. Let me know if I can help.’
Thirty-Five
Mary Chambers frowned as her phone rang in the car, at the very moment that she was manoeuvring into a tight parking space. She hit the Bluetooth button and snapped, ‘Yes?’ as she completed the move.