‘Got it in one. ACC Gorman and I have not long finished interviewing him. He’s going to be charged.’
‘Conspiracy to murder?’ the DS murmured.
‘No, he’ll only be charged with theft. We’re satisfied that he had no specific knowledge of why Bazza Brown wanted the uniforms. He’s heading for Barlinnie though, or Low Moss.’
‘Still,’ Provan countered, ‘all things considered, that’s a result for him. It’ll no’ be nice for Lottie and the wee fella, but a hell of a lot better than if he got life.’
‘True, but it’s not as simple as that. There will be a co-accused, Sergeant Christine McGlashan, who works in the store warehouse.’
Provan stiffened in his chair. ‘Christine McGlashan?’ he repeated. ‘She used to be a DC, until she got promoted back intae uniform. She worked alongside Scott in CID and it was an open secret that he was porkin’ her. But that was before he met Lottie. Are you gin’ tae tell me he still is?’
The chief constable nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. You’ll see that’s why you’re the best man to explain the situation to Lottie. That said, if you think it’s Mission Impossible, you don’t have to accept it. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds and I’ll handle it myself.’
‘No, sir, Ah’ll do it. You’re right; it’s best she hears that sort of news from someone who knows the both o’ them.’
‘Thanks, Dan. None of this is going to go unnoticed or unrewarded, you realise that?’
‘Appreciated, boss, but that “Thanks”, that was enough. There’s no way you could reward me, other than promotion to DI, and I wouldn’t accept that. I am where Ah want to be. If you can make sure that for as long as Ah’m here Ah’ll be alongside the Big Yin, tae look after her, that’ll be fine.’
‘For as long as I’m here myself, I’ll make sure that happens. That’s a promise, Dan.’
‘In which case, Ah hope you stick around.’ He frowned. ‘What’s happenin’ tae McGlashan?’
‘She’ll have been arrested by now, and on her way here. You and Paterson can interview her, but make sure you listen to the recording of Mann’s interview first. Once you’ve done that, you can charge them both, then release them on police bail, pending a Sheriff Court appearance.’ He took a breath, then went on. ‘Now, what were you coming to tell me?’
‘The thing you asked me tae do, sir,’ Provan responded. ‘Ah’ve got a result, sort of. There’s a hospital in Port Louis. . that’s the capital of Mauritius,’ he offered, with a degree of pride. ‘It’s called the Doctor Jeetoo. Its maternity department has a record of a patient called Antonia Day Champs. She had a baby there, a wee girl, on May the twenty-third, two years ago. It was born by caesarean section, and she was discharged a week after. The address they had for her was in a place called Peach Street. I checked the local property register; it said it’s owned by a woman called Sofia Day Champs.’
‘Toni’s mother,’ Skinner volunteered. ‘She got knocked up and went home to Mum.’
The sergeant sniggered. ‘Makes a change from goin’ tae yer auntie’s for a few months, like lassies used tae do in the days before legal abortions. Ah wonder why she didnae have one herself, given that she was such a career woman. Her clock must have been tickin’ Ah suppose.’
‘Who knows?’
‘I spoke to the ward sister. She said she remembered her. She said that a woman came to visit her when she was in, but no husband. There was one man came to visit her, though; much older, about seventy. The sister heard Sofia call him “Grandpa”. She said his face was familiar, like somebody she’d seen in the papers, but that whoever he was he was pretty high-powered, because the consultant was on his best behaviour when he was there, and Antonia had a room tae herself.’
‘Then I guess that could have been her father. Marina told me he was a bigwig in government, and Sofia was his mistress. So what about the birth registration, Dan?’ the chief asked. ‘That’s what I’m really interested in.’
‘Then you’re no’ goin’ tae like this. Mauritius is more modern than ye’d think. All the latest records are stored on computer. The doctor who attends the birth gives the parents a form tae say that it’s happened, but that’s the only written record, apart from the official birth certificate that the parents are given when they register it. And you have tae do that; it’s the law. The government guy Ah spoke to checked the whole period that she was out there after the twenty-third of May, and there is no record of a birth bein’ registered. He’s in no doubt about that.’
‘Bugger!’
The DS held up a hand: it occurred to Skinner that one day he would make an excellent lollipop man. ‘However,’ he declared, ‘he did say that he’d found an anomaly. On the thirtieth of May, a week later, there were forty-six births notified, but when he looked at the computer, he noticed that number seven two six four is followed by seven two six six. There’s a number missing; he had his computer folk look at it. They said it had been hacked. How about that then, boss? D’ye think Grandpa was powerful enough to have the record removed?’
‘I doubt it, Dan,’ Skinner replied. ‘But I know someone who is.’
Forty-Six
‘So much for the tour of the capital,’ Lowell Payne grumbled.
‘We drove past the Tower of London, didn’t we?’ Neil McIlhenney pointed out. ‘And if you went up on the roof here and found the right spot, you’d be able to see the top of Big Ben. Not only that, you’ve seen the home of the mighty Arsenal Football Club. All for free too, in the most expensive city I know.’ He grinned. ‘Tell you what. You check in with the King in the North and I’ll take you for a pint and a sandwich. It’s getting on past lunchtime and I’m a bit peckish myself.’
‘I’ve been trying but he’s not in his office, and his mobile’s switched off.’
‘Maybe he’s still doing that interview you told me about.’
‘If he is and the bloke hasn’t been charged yet, he’ll be entitled to get up and walk out.’
‘He’s probably still hiding under the table. Big Bob doesn’t like bent cops, even ex ones. Try him again, go on.’
The DCI took out his phone and pressed the contact entry for Skinner’s direct line. He let it ring six times, and was about to hang up when it was answered.
‘Lowell?’
‘Yes, Chief.’
‘How’s it going down there? Got anything useful?’
‘Some, but don’t get excited. We’ve worked out how an Israeli ex-paratrooper and disgraced spook hit man came to get a job as a jewellery buyer with a London mail order company. His late father-in-law was Mossad, once upon a time.’
‘Surprise me,’ Skinner drawled, with heavy sarcasm. ‘How did you find that out?’
‘We decided to be forthcoming with his mother-in-law. She was equally frank in return; she told us.’
He chuckled. ‘Giving the guy a job, that’s one thing; marrying your daughter off to him might be taking it a bit too far.’
‘You’d think so, but the impression we’re getting is of a popular, charming bloke. The wife’s devastated. It was just starting to hit home when we left.’
‘How about the mother-in-law? How did she take it?’
‘Calmly. She was upset, of course, but it didn’t come as a bombshell to find out that poor Byron had a second line of business. Before we left, she told us she hoped he was better at that than he was at the jewellery buying.’
‘Did you get anything else from your visit, apart from a compendium of Jewish mother-in-law jokes? Did you take his computer?’
‘No, and that’s the real news I have for you. Somebody beat us to it; Rondar Mail Order had a break-in last Friday night. A few small items were taken, but the main haul was Byron Millbank’s computer. I’m sorry about that, boss, but this trip’s been pretty much a waste of time.’
‘Like hell it has,’ the chief retorted. ‘There are three possibilities here, Lowell. One, the break-in was exactly that, a routine office burglary. Two, it was an inside job, staged to hide something incriminating from the sharp eyes of the VAT inspectors. Three, someone who knew about Byron’s background, and the fact that he was no longer in the land of the living, decided to make sure that nothing embarrassing had been left behind him. I know which of those my money’s on. You’ve had a result, of sorts, Lowell. What was only a suspicion until now, it’s confirmed in my book. The cleaners have been in, and not just in London.’