‘No, because it’s obviously not true: Hitler would give himself up to the Israelis before living in Niddrie. I saw the look on Dunbar’s face when I told him about the body in the Clyde. I knew there and then that he didn’t believe it was Strachan’s.’
‘So, you actually believe Strachan is hob-nobbing with the upper-crust and been made an officer in the army? “Here you go, Strachan, old boy, let’s forget all about that minor unpleasantness of the policeman you murdered, and the fact that you were a deserter in the First War, and we’ll all go and have some tea and tiffin in the officer’s mess”?’
‘Leave the sarcastic wit to me, Archie. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I believe Dunbar saw what he said he saw.’
‘Listen, boss, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job …’
‘Heaven forfend, Archie.’
‘… but you all but waved that cash in front of his face. He obviously felt he had to tell you something. And that bollocks about Strachan being an officer was the best he could come up with at the time.’
‘No, Archie. The best he could have come up with would have been to say he saw Strachan at that bookie’s in Niddrie you saw Hitler in, or on a street in Edinburgh or a railway station in Dundee. The thing that makes me believe he’s telling the truth is exactly that it is so unbelievable. Dunbar’s been interrogated by the police so often in his life that he knows that if he’s going to tell a lie, make that lie simple and credible. You know that.’
‘So where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?’
‘Well, I’ve got a few names I want you to check out, from the list Isa and Violet gave me. Watch who and where you ask though, Archie. In the meantime, I’m going to have to make a couple of visits I’ve been putting off.’
I met Fiona White for tea at Cranston’s. We sat in the Art Nouveau tearoom and ordered tea and salmon sandwiches. She was wearing a smart outfit that I hadn’t seen her in before and what looked like a new hat. I also noticed that she was wearing a deeper shade of crimson lipstick and more make-up than I’d seen her wear before. I was flattered by the effort.
‘How are your new digs?’ she asked, a little awkwardly.
‘Very exclusive,’ I said. ‘I have to be constantly careful that I don’t bark, talk in brogue or tan too deeply.’
She made a puzzled face. A pretty, puzzled face.
‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘It’ll do me in the meantime. It keeps me dry, unless I get too close to the landlord when he’s talking.’
‘I see,’ she said. ‘There’s been no one around the house. No one suspicious, I mean,’ she added. ‘I’ve noticed the local bobby keeping an eye on us, but there really hasn’t been anything to cause me any concern.’
‘I’m glad to hear it. I’m sorry that you’ve been inconvenienced by all of this, Mrs White.’
‘Fiona …’ she said in a quiet voice that cracked halfway through the word. She cleared her throat. Her face reddened. ‘You don’t have to call me Mrs White. Call me Fiona.’
‘In that case, you don’t have to call me Mr Lennox.’
‘What shall I call you then?’
‘Lennox. Everybody does. I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced, Fiona.’
‘It’s no inconvenience. But the girls have missed you around the house.’
‘Just the girls?’
For a second, I got a hint of the frosty defiance I’d been accustomed to. Then it melted.
‘No, not just the girls. Why don’t you come back to your rooms? I don’t think there’s any danger.’
‘You didn’t see the guy who jumped me. There’s something going on with this Strachan thing that I don’t understand. But I’m beginning to get ideas and those ideas tell me that there are some very dangerous people involved. I don’t want to place you or the girls at risk.’
‘Listen, Lennox, I’ve thought about what you said to me, about how you felt. I’m sorry if I seemed a little … unresponsive. I said the things I said because I meant them. Or at least I meant them when I said them. It’s just that … I don’t know, just that I’m not the kind of woman you’re used to. I’m not experienced with men or sophisticated in any sense. When I married Robert, I thought that was it. I saw my entire life ahead of me; how it would be. That’s what I thought I wanted back then. Then, when he was killed, it wasn’t just that I’d lost him, I’d lost myself. What I had decided I wanted to be.’
‘I know you’re not going to believe this, Fiona, but I know exactly what you mean. A lot of us lost our way during the war, became people we didn’t know we could be. Didn’t want to be. But that’s the hand we were dealt. All we can do is make the most of it. Nothing can bring your husband back and nothing can take away the things I did in the war. But we can try to move on. To find some kind of happiness.’
‘I think you should come back.’ Fiona looked down at the tablecloth. ‘I can’t promise you anything, say anything will change. But I would like you to come back.’
‘I want that too, Fiona, but I can’t. Not yet. I have messed up so many things in my life, but I’m damned if I’m going to mess this up. I’ll be back as soon as I am sure I’m not going to bring a lot of trouble home with me.’
‘But for all we know, the man who attacked you still thinks you live at home. If anything we’re in more danger without you being there.’
‘This is more than one man. And they’re clever operators and they know I’m not there any more. I’m just hoping they haven’t traced me to where I am now.’
‘The police …’
‘Can’t help me. At least not officially, and I think I’ve squeezed the last drop of goodwill out of Jock Ferguson. Listen, it’ll be over soon and I’ll come back.’ I laid my hand on hers. It tensed, as if she was going to pull away, then relaxed. ‘Then we can talk.’
I went back to my office to finish up a few things before heading back to my temporary accommodation at the boarding house. I was just taking my raincoat off the coat rack when someone swung open my office door without first knocking. I turned and my heart sank. I suddenly realized that not conceiving of anyone worse than Hammer Murphy to share my company with only highlighted the limits of my imagination.
The man in front of me was six foot three and in his early fifties. He had broad shoulders and a brutal, cruel face. He was, as he had been every time I’d encountered him, dressed with precise and totally unimaginative neatness. In tweed. He decided to take the weight off his brogues without waiting to be asked. Like not knocking on a door before entering, waiting to be invited to sit down was something that Detective Chief Superintendent Willie McNab did not do.
I decided it was best if I sat too. I preferred to have something substantial like a desk, or a continent, between me and McNab. I watched the door, waiting for some burly Highlander in an off-the-peg Burton suit to come in after McNab: one of the privileges of rank was that you didn’t have to do your own beating of suspects. To my surprise none came.
‘To what do I owe …?’ I asked McNab.
‘You know exactly why I’m here, so don’t piss me about.’
‘I tell you what, Superintendent, just so’s we’re clear, why don’t you spell it out for me?’
‘You’ve been sticking your nose into this Strachan business. You ought to know by now that I get to hear everything that goes on in this city, and anything that’s of special interest to me, I find out fast. What have you found out?’
‘Nothing of interest to the police,’ I said.
‘Who are you working for?’
‘Sorry. Client confidentiality.’
‘Oh aye, client confidentiality.’ McNab nodded sagely, as if appreciating the concept. ‘Do you know why client confidentiality and the shite are very similar?’
‘I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’
McNab did six foot three of standing up and leaned across the desk, bringing his face close to mine.