‘I’m considering that already, chum. But it’s not at the top of my list. If Gates’s job is so bloody secret that you can’t tell him his kid is dead until he’s, he’s . . . non-operational, how is anybody likely to know about it to target him?’
‘These people have their sources.’
‘From the little I’ve heard of the suspect, he doesn’t fit the “these people” category. I’ll take what we’ve discussed on board in our investigation . . .’
Blackett cut in. ‘Discreetly, Mr McGuire, yes? After all, I haven’t really told you anything.’
‘I said that I would take it on board, not “we”. If I need to brief the senior investigating officer on Gates’s status, I will, but it’ll be for his ears only . . . although frankly my officers are intelligent and will have guessed what the score is.
‘Make no mistake, we do need to speak to Gates as soon as you can make it happen, even though he does have the best alibi I’ve come across in my entire police career.’
‘I’ll take that to the admiral,’ the captain promised. ‘There are channels.’ He paused. ‘The mother,’ he ventured. ‘You didn’t say how she is.’
‘The last I heard,’ McGuire replied, ‘we may be able to speak to Gates before we can talk to her . . . if we ever can.’
Eighteen
‘It’s a bonus, Sarge, isn’t it?’ Jackie Wright said. ‘Jagger and Drizzle working in the same place?’
‘That’s assuming that they haven’t been taking the piss out of their probation officer,’ Haddock replied. ‘He didn’t seem too familiar with them when I spoke to him.’
‘What were they done for? Did he tell you?’
‘They’ve both got records of petty theft, but most recently it was shoplifting in Primark, Debenhams and Topman. Apparently they were pretty good at it; they were never caught in the act in the stores, only identified on CCTV after the event.’
The DC frowned. ‘If they got out of the shops with the stuff,’ she wondered aloud, ‘how were they caught?’
‘The silly buggers decided to sell it on a market stall in Dalkeith. Strangers stick out like the proverbial in places like that and attract the attention of Trading Standards. They were nicked on day two. They tried to say they’d bought the gear in good faith themselves, but that’s where the in-store cameras came into play.’
‘They were lucky they got off so lightly.’
The DS nodded. ‘They were, since they were on probation already for previous offences, but they must have had a good lawyer. He persuaded the sheriff that they were saveable and that a mix of fine, community service and extended probation would be a better deal for society than housing and feeding them for six months.’
‘They’re probably nicking burgers now,’ Wright chuckled, as they walked into the fast food outlet in St John’s Road.
Haddock stopped just inside the doorway, and looked around. The takeaway menu was displayed above the service counter, and its varied aromas pervaded the premises.
There were two people in the process of being served, but only one attendant, a tall young man in a striped uniform bearing the chain logo, and a peaked brown cap from which a few strands of hair protruded. There was a wide hatch behind him, through which the two detectives could see other people working.
‘That’s a double cheeseburger with Mexican salsa,’ he announced to the first customer, handing over a square polystyrene box. He looked across at the two newcomers, his wide, slightly sensuous mouth open in a smile. ‘Hey, they’re stormin’ the place now,’ he called out. ‘Corstorphine must be starvin’. And you, Alicia, you’re the hauf-pound venison wi’ piccalilli, and fries on the side, aye?’
A squat, dyed young blonde in a parka nodded. ‘What is venison onyway?’
‘Bambi; ye’re eating fuckin’ Bambi.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘That’s gross; poor wee soul. Comes tae us all, though. And a cannae Coke, Jagger,’ she added. ‘Dinna forget the Coke.’
‘How could Ah, hen? It’s the same order every day: speciality burger and a cannae Coke. Dae ye no fancy a wee bit of variety in yer life?’
‘Such as?’
‘Ah dinna ken.’ He winked. ‘How about a hot sausage roll?’
‘In yer dreams, ya cheeky bastard,’ the girl chuckled, as she took her order. ‘See ye ramorra.’
‘In ma fuckin’ nightmares,’ the attendant murmured as she left. ‘Now, folks,’ he exclaimed, as he turned to face the two detectives. ‘Which of our delights would youse like? How can I help youse?’
‘By finding somewhere quiet where we can talk?’ Haddock replied, showing his warrant card. ‘That’s who I am, Mr Smith, and this is DC Wright. We need to ask you about a friend of yours, Dean Francey.’
‘How dae ye ken my name?’ the man asked, perplexed.
‘Let’s just say you fit the description we were given, Jagger. How about your pal Drizzle? We need him too.’
‘Aye, he’s here,’ Jagger confirmed. ‘But we’re workin’. We cannae just leave.’
An unnoticed door in the brightly coloured wall behind the counter opened and a second man appeared. ‘What’s up here?’ he demanded. ‘I’m Bert Stewart, the manager.’
‘CID,’ the DS told him. ‘We need a word with Messrs Smith and Harbison.’
‘What? Now, like? Can it no’ wait till they finish their shifts?’
‘No.’
‘Are they in bother?’
‘Not as far as I know,’ Haddock said, amiably. ‘We hope they might be able to help us with our inquiries. Fifteen minutes max, and they’ll be back on duty . . .’ he smiled, ‘unless they’ve confessed, of course.’
‘All right,’ the manager conceded. ‘Use my office. It’s the wee room in the corridor behind the kitchen; the one on the left, the other’s the lav. Take him through, Michael, and collect your mate on the way. Tell Coleen I’ll man the counter.’
Jagger lifted a flap in the counter to allow the two officers access, then led them into the kitchen, where two young people stood, one male, one female, each wearing a grease-spattered apron. ‘Drizzle,’ he said to the man, ‘these police want tae talk tae us about Dino.’
‘That’s very interesting, Jagger,’ Jackie Wright began, as soon as the office door had closed behind them. ‘When we mentioned Francey outside, your first question was how we knew your name. I’d been expecting you to ask what Dino was supposed to have done. Does that mean you know?’
Michael Smith nodded. ‘Aye. It’s that fuckin’ fish, right?’
‘And what fuckin’ fish would that be?’ she asked.
‘The dozen monster halibut that he’s got in ma granny’s freezer, waiting to be thawed out and flogged on tae a Chinese restaurant in Broxburn. Buggrit, Ah kent they werenae kosher.’
‘Halibut are kosher, as I recall,’ Haddock remarked. ‘I visited a Jewish restaurant in Glasgow last year and I’m sure there was halibut on the menu.’
Jagger stared at him. ‘Eh?’
‘Never mind,’ the DS said. ‘As it happens, we’re not interested in your granny’s freezer. If I were you I’d advise her to donate them to the Edinburgh food bank.’
‘Then what is this about?’ Calm eyes stared at the detectives from beneath knitted eyebrows and a furrowed forehead. It was the first indication that Ian ‘Drizzle’ Harbison could speak.
Haddock ignored the question. ‘When did you last see Dino, either of you?’
‘Saturday night,’ Jagger answered. ‘We met them . . . him and Singer . . . in Lacey’s, at the top o’ Leith Walk. They’d been tae the Omni tae see that Hobbit film, and we saw them there after.’
‘Lacey’s!’ Wright exclaimed. ‘Are you telling me that Dean Francey took his girlfriend to a lap-dancing club?’
The loose lips beamed. ‘She fuckin’ works there,’ he laughed. ‘We get staff rate on the cocktails. We gie her the money and she gets them in for us. The boss disnae mind; she’s his best dancer.’
‘Was she working that night?’ the DS asked.
‘Naw. Night aff.’
‘How did Dino seem?’
‘Same as usual. Edgy fucker, looking for bother.’