80
Mario was gazing out of the window when the buzzer sounded. He liked the view across the water, even at night when all he could see were the lights of the docks and of Ocean Terminal beyond. When his Aunt Sophia had decided that she could live there no longer after his Uncle Beppe’s death, he had seized the chance to move into the family-owned penthouse, and had not regretted the decision.
As he picked up the handset that connected him to the main entrance he knew who would be waiting below. ‘Hi,’ said the quiet voice he knew so well, the one he had expected to hear.
‘Come on up.’ He pressed the button that opened the door, holding his finger on it till he heard her shout, ‘Okay!’ then walked out of the apartment to wait beside the lift.
‘Hiya,’ he greeted Maggie as she emerged, kissing her lightly on the cheek. He held the door open for her, and watched her as she stepped inside. She was dressed casually, as she had always dressed, yet there seemed to be something different about her, about her manner, about her bearing.
‘Are you not seeing Paula tonight?’ she asked him. There was no animosity in her tone; indeed, there had been none between them since they had split.
‘She’s at the theatre with her mum,’ he told her. ‘They’ve got tickets for the musical at the Playhouse; afterwards they’re going to Ferri’s for supper. They had to take a taxi, though. I warned Paulie off trying to drive there: with the papal mass in the cathedral just across Picardy Place, the traffic’ll be hellish.’
‘So you’re on your lonesome.’
‘Yup.’
‘Are you still upset about Colin Mawhinney?’
‘What do you think? I reckon Neil’s got a lead, though. He hasn’t said, but he was closeted with an American the other day, and then they went off to see the Big Man.’
‘How about you? Does the uniform still fit? Are those badges on your shoulders wearing you down yet?’
‘Not one bit.’
He walked over to the bar set in a corner of the big open living space. ‘You want a drink?’
‘What do you have open? No. Wait. Let me guess. Chianti?’ He laughed. ‘What else?’ He filled a glass for Maggie and topped up his own. ‘So what’s up?’ he asked, as he handed her the dark red wine. ‘Why the official visit?’
‘There’s something I have to tell you to your face,’ she answered. ‘I’ve moved in with Stevie.’
She watched his eyes as he digested what she had told him; they gave nothing away. ‘I see,’ he murmured. ‘You mean move in as in share a flat, or move in as in. .’
‘Why would I want a flat-share when I have a perfectly nice house? I’ve moved in with him, Mario, period.’
‘And it’s okay?’
She nodded. ‘It’s okay. In fact it’s better than that; it’s like I never thought it could be.’
‘Does he know? Have you told him? About your father, the abuse?’
‘No.’›
‘Will you?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Good. Where is he anyway?’
‘Downstairs, in the car. He’d have come up, but I preferred it this way.’
‘Well, bring him up, for fuck’s sake!’ exclaimed Mario. ‘I won’t eat the guy. Far from it; I owe him a drink.’
‘Why?’›
‘For taking you off my conscience, okay?’
‘I’ll drink to that too.’ She took out her cell phone and called Stevie on his. ‘Come on up,’ she said, when he answered. ‘The bear’s friendly.’ She pressed the button when the buzzer sounded a few seconds later, then opened the front door.
As he stepped into the room, Mario glared at him; and then a grin spread over his face and he reached out and shook his hand. ‘Good luck, mate,’ he said.
‘As in, he’ll need it?’ Maggie challenged, as she poured her partner a glass of Chianti.
‘Cheers,’ said Stevie. ‘Before you say anything, Mario, I promise I’ll look after her.’
‘I wasn’t going to, but it’s good to hear. How widely is this known?’
‘Mary Chambers and that’s it,’ Maggie replied.
‘And Bob Skinner,’ Stevie grunted.
‘How? God, what’s the point in asking!’
Stevie smiled. ‘It’s okay. I promised him I’d look after you too.’ He leaned against the bar and sipped from his glass. ‘Nice place this,’ he exclaimed, looking around. He wandered across the room to the glass-topped dining-table that stood in the opposite corner, strewn with papers and other items.
‘Mario,’ Maggie began, ‘about the house. .’
He held up a hand to cut her off. ‘It’s yours. We agreed that, and nothing’s changed.’
‘Do you mind if I rent it out?’
‘Mags, I don’t mind if you. .’
‘Excuse me!’ There was a strange urgency about Steele’s voice as he cut into their conversation. They turned together to see him staring at something on the table. ‘What is this?’ he murmured.
Mario walked over to join him, to see what had caught his eye, and held it. ‘Those are Colin Mawhinney’s personal things,’ he said. ‘I’m looking after them until his colleagues collect them. What you’re looking at is a photograph of his wife, Margery. She was killed in the World Trade Center.’
As he looked at Stevie, he saw that his face was chalk white. ‘Then either it’s her twin sister who’s just disappeared from the Scottish Farmers Bank,’ he whispered, ‘or else she’s risen from the ruins.’
81
‘Neil,’ Skinner barked into the phone, ‘I want you to pick up your witness Spoons, the guy who knows a Land Rover when he sees one, and I want you to show him a picture of a Mitsubishi Pajero. Ask him if he can really tell the fucking difference. You’ll find that he can’t. While your guys are finding him, I want you to get hold of the two NYPD officers and have them come to Fettes. Finally, do you know where Merle Gower is? I’ve tried her cell phone, but it’s not responding.’
‘She’s at the consul’s residence. I dropped her there after the meeting in Bute House. Huggins and Donegan are in the Ellersley House Hotel; that’s not far away so they should. .’ McIlhenney paused. ‘Am I right in assuming that a very big balloon has just gone up?’
‘Nah, mate, that would be easy. I’d just shoot it down. This is more like the Martians dropping in for cocktails. I’ve just found out who really killed Mawhinney.’
‘You what?’
‘Yes. It was his wife.’
‘His what?’
‘DI Steele will explain. Between you, you know the whole story; apologies to Lou, but I’d like you back in my office to help tie all the ends of this together. Stevie, Maggie and Mario are here now. We only really need Steele, but the other two might as well stick around. The chief and I are having supper with the Pope and Jim Gainer this evening, but I’ll come back to Fettes afterwards.’ Skinner’s mind was racing; he applied the brakes. ‘Listen, forget the Americans. I’ll phone Huggins, and Merle; you get here to catch any information they bring back.’
He hung up. ‘Stevie,’ he snapped. ‘I want you to dig up Arthur Dorward, and get him, with his best team, back out to the Middlemass and Alsina house. They’ve to look for any forensic traces that confirm Mawhinney’s presence there. Likewise they should turn their car inside out if they have to.’ He turned to Rose. ‘Mags, do you want to do something useful, if wholly beneath your exalted rank?’
‘Of course.’
‘You know your way around this floor. I’d like you to find the guest list for the reception that the chief was hosting for Inspector Mawhinney, and see who was due to represent the Scottish Farmers Bank.’
Rose looked at Steele. ‘I don’t need to find it,’ she said. ‘Vernon Easterson told us. He and Proctor Fraser, the chief executive, were invited. But they both had prior engagements, so Aurelia Middlemass was nominated to represent them.’
‘And wouldn’t that have been a surprise for poor Colin?’