Private Investigations (20 page)

‘It was the suit that gave you away,’ I joked.

The room was small, and so he didn’t have a desk, just a side table and three chairs. I took a seat that faced the window, with its view of Princes Street.

‘Were you a commando?’

‘No, I was Royal Navy, not Royal Marines.’ His accent was English; south of Birmingham, west of Southampton, I guessed. ‘I was a petty officer on a minesweeper. It bored the shit out of me, so I applied for Special Boat Service training. It’s a less common entry route, but it is possible.’

‘So I’ve heard.’

‘You’ve encountered Special Forces before?’

I nodded. ‘Several times. I had a friend who did the whole tour; SAS, Defence Intelligence, you name it.’

‘Is he still in the service?’

‘Note the past tense. He isn’t anywhere any more.’

‘Ahh, I’m sorry,’ Hurrell murmured. ‘Killed in action?’

‘Of a kind: I’m sorry to be mysterious,’ I added.

He whistled. ‘Spooky stuff? I never did any of that.’

I hadn’t gone there to talk about my past, and certainly not that chapter in the story.

‘Suppose you were going to steal the
Princess Alison
,’ I asked, abruptly. ‘How would you go about it?’

The grey eyes narrowed, grew colder again. ‘Are you hinting at something?’

‘Hell no,’ I laughed. ‘I don’t take you for an idiot. It was a straight question.’

‘Mmm.’ He didn’t look one hundred per cent convinced, nor should he have been. I knew nothing about ex-Petty Officer Hurrell, nor did I know how thorough Eden’s vetting had been. ‘In that case,’ he replied, ‘all I can say is that I’d have done it the same way they did. Cut the phone line, in fast, blind the sensor, and out of there as soon as the boat was powered up.’

‘You agree with the thinking that whoever did it had advance knowledge?’

‘Up to a point. They might not, depending on their hacking skills. The detailed plans of the boathouse will be on the local authority website. The schematic of the alarm system, that’ll be somewhere too.’

‘How would they know how to open the doors?’ I asked.

‘From the planning application; that detail would be there. Also, there’s a manual override of the remote opening system.’

‘But the door was closed again after the boat was taken.’

‘Maybe that was a bonus,’ Hurrell suggested. ‘Once you’re on the bridge and at the controls, the remote control device is bloody obvious; it’s right there beside the wheel, in a holder. But if not, if the operation was planned down to that last detail, the name of the door supplier is right there on the outside and its IT system will be accessible too. As for the layout of the
Princess
, she’s a piece of work, but she’s not unique. She doesn’t have many sisters but there are some.’

‘Are you telling me, Walter,’ I quizzed him, ‘that the police assumption that the theft involved insider knowledge is all wrong?’

‘No, I’m saying it’s not a safe assumption to make.’

‘I get it. Let’s move on. Do you have any thoughts on what’s happened to her?’

‘Thoughts maybe, clues no. I might imagine her cruising around the Black Sea, crowded with dodgy Russians quaffing champagne and Beluga caviar, but I’ve got no reason to believe that.’

‘Could she have been loaded on to a ship?’

‘No,’ he declared, emphatically. ‘First, it would need to be a bloody big ship, and second, it would have to be done in a dock, given the size of crane you’d need to lift the
Princess
.’

‘But it’s not impossible?’

‘It’s not,’ he admitted, ‘but are you going to steal a yacht then show her off in a public place, before loads of witnesses?’

‘Understood,’ I said. ‘Could she be sunk?’

‘She could, but why?’ Hurrell leaned back, looking at me. ‘I know, you’re suggesting that that somebody hates the boss, and stole his boat to piss him off, then scuttled her. The problem with your theory is that nobody does hate the man, or has any reason to. He makes people rich, and they love him for it. On top of that, he’s a genuinely nice bloke. You of all people must know that. From what I hear you were practically family at one point.’

‘I wouldn’t put it that strongly,’ I snapped.

‘Sorry, sir,’ Hurrell murmured, quickly. ‘But he is, isn’t he?’

‘Apology accepted, and I won’t deny it.’

‘She’s been sold,’ he declared abruptly. ‘That’s what I really think. The theft was carried out by professionals. and it was about money, pure and simple. The weather was fine that night and the sea conditions were calm. There was enough fuel in the tank for them to get her to the west coast of Ireland. Once they were there, they’d have no problem finding a nice quiet spot to change her appearance as far as they could, and give her a new name. Once that was done, they could take her anywhere they bloody liked, across the Atlantic even, if you chose the right route and carried some extra fuel on board.

‘There are many possibilities, but what I said earlier, about her cruising around in the Black Sea: that’s as likely a scenario as any.’

I nodded. ‘Received and understood,’ I said. ‘Thanks for that, Walter. I won’t take up any more of your time.’

‘Not at all, sir,’ he replied as we both rose to our feet. ‘It’s been a pleasure.’

I said my farewell to Luisa McCracken, and left the first-floor office. I was on the stair down to street level when my phone sounded.

‘Sorry to bother you, Chief.’ Wherever Sauce Haddock was, there was background noise. Unnecessarily, he raised his voice so that it boomed in my ear. ‘There’s something we need to run past you. One quick question.’

‘Shoot,’ I said. ‘And no need to shout,’ I asked.

‘Yesterday, at Fort Kinnaird; after the collision between you and the BMW, when Dean Francey got out and ran away, did you follow him, at all?’

‘Yes, I did. It was a natural reaction, Sauce; I began to chase him, but only for about twenty yards or so, till I realised I’d never catch him.’

‘So you were focused on him?’

‘At that moment, yes.’

‘Is it possible that while you were distracted, someone else got out of the passenger side and ran off?’

I took a couple of moments to think and replay the scene. ‘It might have been,’ I conceded. ‘But . . . there wouldn’t have been time for them to get clear before I turned round and spotted them. Why?’

‘We’re just trying to complete the picture, sir. We suspect that Anna Harmony was involved in the abduction, but we’re not sure how far.’

‘Does it matter, since she’s as dead as Francey?’

‘Probably not, but we’ve had word from on high there are to be no slip-ups on this one; or else.’

I was intrigued. ‘How high?’

‘As high as it gets.’

That surprised me. ‘Why the “or else”? The job’s tough enough without that sort of pressure.’

‘A difference of opinion with the Communications Directorate.’

‘What?’ I laughed. ‘That’s a service department. Since when did it have a fucking opinion?’

‘Don’t ask me, sir. I’m just a detective sergeant, dog-shite on the shoes of the high and mighty. And I’ve probably said too much as it is. Thanks, sir, so long.’

Before I put my phone away I made one more call. ‘One down, one to go,’ I murmured as I retrieved the number I’d been given for Jock Hodgson, the part-time engineer of the
Princess Alison
, and keyed it in.

My call rang out seven times before the BT answer woman cut in and invited me to leave a message. I did: my name, the fact that I was on Eden’s business, my number, and a request that Hodgson call me as soon as possible to arrange a time for us to meet. Before my discussion with Hurrell, I’d intended to speak to the engineer by phone, but I’d changed my mind on that.

My mind was still on new regimes as I left Eden’s building and headed along the King George IV Bridge. I had called Alex from the train and arranged to meet her for a sandwich lunch in the Balcony Café of the National Museum.

‘Who’s stolen your scone?’ she asked, as I joined her at the table she’d nabbed. She’d ordered too; a platter of sandwiches and a large bottle of sparkling water awaited my arrival.

‘Sorry,’ I chuckled, brightening up instantly. ‘Was I looking grumpy?’

‘Just a bit,’ she said. ‘Are you still dwelling on yesterday?’

‘Just a bit,’ I admitted, grinning.

‘From what I read into the police statement, the little girl died of natural causes. Is that right?’

‘Yes, it is. But the guy who took her, and his girlfriend, that was different.’

‘Yes. I caught a piece of the lunchtime TV news on my iPad a couple of minutes ago. Sammy Pye looked very tense, Pops.’

‘From what I’m told, he is. I’m beginning to think I’ve made a big mistake.’

‘How?’

‘In supporting your ex’s application for the chief constable post.’

‘What did I say yesterday?’

‘But would I, or anyone else, have done any better than he’s doing?’ I wondered.

‘It doesn’t matter, Pops,’ she declared. ‘The ashes of the bridge are long gone down the river and I won’t let you rebuild it. So, what have you been up to?’

‘I’ve been working on my commission for Eden Higgins. In fact I’ve just come from interviewing his personal assistant. His duties included captaining the missing boat.’

‘Eden has a personal assistant now, does he?’

‘Three of them, if you include Rory. He’ll be fronting
The Apprentice
before you know it. This assistant, though, he won’t be a contestant; he’s a minder, pure and simple.’

‘I suppose you need one,’ Alex said, ‘when you’ve got as much money as he has. He’s as rich as they say, you know. When I was a corporate partner at CAJ, I was involved in a couple of deals that touched on his interests.’

‘Even so,’ I murmured.

‘You have your doubts?’

‘About Eden, no, not for a moment. But about his factotum, Hurrell, that’s another matter.’

‘You weren’t impressed?’

‘It’s not that,’ I said. ‘He’s an impressive bloke and well qualified for the job, but . . . As I asked him about the theft, I was left with a nagging suspicion that he was trying just too hard to steer me . . . nice choice of verb in the circumstances . . . in a specific direction.’

‘Do you think he’s a suspect?’ Alex asked.

‘No, he’s too close. He’d be crazy to be involved. All the same, he’s left me with a niggle.’

‘Another itch you have to scratch?’

‘Yes, and I will.’ I picked up a prawn sandwich. ‘Sarah says I should lay off these. High cholesterol.’ I bit off half of it nonetheless.

‘And what else?’

Her question cut in just as I was reaching for my second sandwich. I stared at her. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘There’s something else bothering you. I can tell. Since you walked in here there’s been an underlying tension in you, Pops. What’s up? Have you and Sarah had a row?’

‘No!’ I protested. ‘Absolutely not. Those days are over forever, I promise you. If there’s a tension in me it’s because lately I’ve been thinking just how much I regret every single day that she and I spent apart.’

That was true, and it seemed to satisfy her, but it wasn’t the whole truth. The rest was that I couldn’t wait to get home to see how the pregnancy test worked out.

Thirty-Four

‘What I don’t understand, boss,’ Haddock confessed, ‘is what we’re doing back in Edinburgh. I thought we were going to tackle Hector Mackail today.’

‘Not quite,’ Pye told him. He was perched on the edge of the sergeant’s desk in the busy CID room in Fettes. ‘He’ll keep; he’s not going anywhere. I want to brace Sullivan about Anna and that party before we get that far. But before we even do that, I have a theory that I want to chase down.’

‘Is that what your mysterious phone call to Jackie Wright was about?’

‘Spot on.’

‘Fine, but where is she?’

‘Where’s who, Sarge?’ a female voice asked.

He turned to see the DC standing in the doorway. ‘Good,’ he muttered. ‘That’s one effing mystery solved.’

‘Did you get anything?’ Pye asked her.

‘I think so.’ Wright took a memory stick from her pocket and brandished it. ‘This has a section of CCTV footage copied on to it. And it may have what you’re after.’

She crossed the room to her computer, fired it up and inserted the stick in a USB port, then opened it with a click. Two more moves and a still image appeared on the screen, showing an area of the Fort Kinnaird car park, and the corner of a building.

‘There’s a camera on a pole beside the electrical store,’ she said. ‘It covers the front of Marks and Spencer up to the corner of the T K Maxx building. Check the time; it’s the same as when the collision happened between Mr Skinner’s car and the BMW. Now look.’

With Pye and Haddock peering over her shoulder, she hit an arrow to start the movie. For a few seconds the scene was undisturbed, save for a blue Nissan reversing out of a parking space. Then a dark-haired woman in a cagoule and a black skirt ran into the frame from the right, moving awkwardly, on high-heeled shoes with a thick sole. The DC waited until she was in mid-screen then froze the image once more.

‘I’ve got a still close-up image as well: at least, as close as the operator could give me. But what do you think of that?’

‘Anna Harmony,’ Haddock declared. ‘Those shoes are a dead giveaway. She must have been waiting for Dino in the car park. She wasn’t just his girlfriend, gaffer, she was his accomplice.’

‘Looks like it,’ Pye agreed, ‘but how far was she involved? That doesn’t tell us conclusively she was only waiting there for Francey, Sauce. Could she have been in the car as well?’ He frowned. ‘Could she have bolted out the other door? There’s one man can tell us. Have you got Bob Skinner’s number on your phone?’

The DS nodded.

‘Then call him and ask him.’

Haddock walked to a corner of the noisy room, his phone to his ear. His colleagues waited, watching him for a full minute as he spoke, until he finished and returned to them. ‘He says he was concentrating on Francey at first, but he’s pretty certain she wasn’t in the car with him.’

‘So Dino went to Fort Kinnaird to pick her up,’ Pye muttered. He looked at the still figure on the computer monitor once again. ‘She’s carrying bags,’ he said, ‘two of them.’ He leaned close, bending over and peering at them. ‘It’s not very clear but from the colour, they could be M and S.’ He straightened up. ‘Come on, Sauce, we have to nail this down. Let’s go back to Davie Street.’

‘Celia and Ilse might have classes,’ Haddock pointed out.

‘Then the door gets kicked in and we send a joiner to repair it. The chief constable can pick up the tab.’