Screams in the Dark (27 page)

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Authors: Anna Smith

BOOK: Screams in the Dark
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The DI shifted in his seat and his face flushed even more. The words ‘fuck you’ were stamped on his forehead.

‘I’m well aware of that, Mr Hanlon.’ He glared at him. ‘But if you don’t mind, I’ll proceed for the moment.’

Hanlon scribbled ‘prick’ on his notepad and turned it towards Rosie. She tried not to look at it.

‘Right,’ Craig said, addressing Rosie. ‘So, Miss Gilmour …’

‘Call me Rosie, please, Inspector. I am under fifty,’ she said, deadpan.

He let her smart-arse comment fly over his head. ‘Ahem … Rosie. So. I understand you had met and were in contact with the young man Emir. You had initially met him at the Red Road flats, I believe. During the demonstration?’

‘Yes. That’s right. I met him and we had been in touch. I’ve told your officers that Emir told me his friend Jetmir had been kidnapped.’

The DI nodded.

‘And you didn’t come to the police to report that information at the time?’

‘Inspector, if I came to the police every time someone made an allegation or a claim, I’d never be doing anything else.’

‘But you took it seriously?’

‘I did. But then he didn’t contact me again for a few days.’

‘And when he did?’

Rosie lied. ‘Well, you know the rest, Inspector. I handed Emir over to the police who listened to his claims and promised they would protect him.’ Rosie paused. ‘Which, as you also know, they clearly did not.’

The DI clicked his pen a few times.

‘Can you tell me what else he spoke to you about, regarding the lawyers Frank Paton and Tony Murphy?’

Hanlon put his hand up.

‘I’m sorry. My client can’t answer that.’

The DI glowered at him. ‘We are investigating a murder here, Mr Hanlon. It’s very important that nobody is withholding information from any aspect that may assist the inquiry.’

McGuire cleared his throat.

‘Then perhaps the first place you should be looking, Detective Inspector, is how a man who was assisting the police was murdered while he was under the protection of officers from Strathclyde’s finest. Should you not be asking how this happened?’

‘That’s a matter for internal investigation.’ The DI said, his mouth tight.

‘And this is a newspaper, Inspector.’ McGuire, leaned forward. ‘We write stories. Our job is not to find murderers.
But I’ll tell you this: we
will
find out how this man was murdered.’

The DI responded through gritted teeth. ‘Withholding information from a police investigation is a very serious matter, Mr McGuire.’

‘Yes. I’m sure it is.’ McGuire pushed his chair back. This interview was over.

The DI got to his feet and the DS quickly got up and stood at his side. ‘I don’t think there’s really much point in continuing with this interview,’ Detective Inspector Craig said. ‘I can see we are getting no cooperation.’ He looked at Rosie. ‘We’ll be in touch.’ He looked at the editor, now heading towards the door to open it, adding, ‘And we may also have to speak to you in due course, Mr McGuire.’

McGuire held the door open for the cops.

‘What a wanker!’ he said when they’d walked out and closed the door behind them.

CHAPTER 27

‘Your ears must be burning, Gilmour.’

Rosie took Don’s call on the mobile as she made her way to the restaurant to meet TJ.

‘What?’

‘Big Bill Craig is calling you for all the bastards of the day after that interview in your office. Said he felt like a right prick.’ Don was clearly relishing it.

‘Well, maybe that’s because he is one,’ she said.

He laughed. ‘He came in here like a fiend, kicking a bin in the corridor on the way into his office, saying you and the editor and that Hanlon made a right tit of him.’

‘Well, it wouldn’t have been his best interview.’ Rosie chuckled. ‘But what the hell did he think we would do? Sit down and compare notes?’

‘Yeah,’ Don said, ‘know what you mean. But don’t be surprised if he makes more of it. He’ll be asking the boss if they can pull you in for withholding information. He knows you’re holding out on him.’

‘He knows bugger all, Don. If I’m holding out on him,
then he should ask himself how come he doesn’t have the information in the first place?’

‘I know, but he could make trouble for you, Rosie. Just saying. I’m marking your card.’

‘Thanks, Don.’ Rosie changed the subject. ‘Any more word on the slaughterhouse or that Serbian guy?’

‘Not really. Looks like he’s done a runner. But the word is that there’s a bit of political involvement and the cops will not be releasing any information about them hunting for a Serbian.’

‘Wonder why.’ Rosie was glad the police wouldn’t mention the Serbian – it meant she had it all to herself and it gave her time to try to track him down.

‘If I get any more, I’ll give you a shout.’

‘Cheers. Oh, and Don … any news on who it was on the inside that gave Emir up to be murdered?’

He paused. ‘Not yet, Rosie. Will let you know.’ The line went dead.

*

Rosie was glad by the time dinner with TJ was coming to an end. They’d been making small talk, with her keeping him up to speed about the investigation and frisson with the detectives. But there had been an underlying atmosphere throughout the meal, and Rosie wasn’t sure if it was just her guilty conscience because she was about to tell TJ she was off to Bosnia the following day, or whether there was something else going on with him. She watched him suspiciously as he split the remainder of the bottle of red wine between their two glasses. The waiter came over with coffees and they both declined liqueurs.

‘TJ,’ Rosie took a sip of her wine. ‘I’m going out of town.’ She paused as he looked at her over the top of his wine glass. ‘To Belgrade. Well, going to Sarajevo first. Then to Belgrade.’

TJ took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He handed her a cigarette and flicked the lighter under it, keeping his eyes on her.

‘To look for the Serbian?’

‘Yeah, I’m told he’s there. Adrian called me.’

TJ sighed, blowing out smoke. ‘So you’re going to hunt down a Serbian with a reputation for brutality and murder, who was over here hacking up refugees in Glasgow and selling their skin and tissue all over the world.’ He paused, raising his eyebrows for effect. ‘What part of the phrase “death wish” is it that you don’t seem to understand, Rosie?’

‘Oh, come on, TJ.’ Rosie gave him a perplexed look. ‘It’s my job. You know that.’ She pushed her hair back. ‘What do you expect me to do? The key person in the story may be in a place that I have the chance to track him down and unmask him for what he’s done; maybe even get him arrested. It’s what I do. It will make it all worthwhile.’

‘No, Rosie. It’s not what you do. Hunting this guy down is for the authorities and the war crimes people. It’s their job, not yours. You’ve got plenty on this story. More than enough to fill several days’ newspapers.’ He shook his head. ‘Why do you always want to push it further and further? Why, Rosie?’

Rosie looked at him. She knew his reaction was motivated by worry about her safety. He was the one person
in the whole world she totally trusted and believed in, yet even after everything he knew about her, he still couldn’t see all of her. Deep down she knew he was right. She didn’t need to go to Sarajevo to chase Raznatovic. What she’d already achieved in the story was more than enough. But it wasn’t enough for her. She reached over and touched his hand.

‘I know what you’re saying, TJ, but you know me well enough now to know that I can’t back off.’ She looked beyond him and thought of Emir’s last words. ‘I have to go.’

‘No, you don’t, Rosie.’

‘I do.’ She sighed. ‘Christ, TJ, why can’t you just understand that this is part of me, part of what makes me who I am.’

‘I try, Rosie, believe me. I love who you are and what makes you who you are. But sometimes …’ He paused. ‘Sometimes it feels there’s just no room for anyone else. I’ll never be the main priority for you.’

Rosie’s heart sank.

‘Please don’t say that, TJ.’ She touched his hair. The thought of losing him brought an ache to her chest. She looked into the softness of his grey eyes. ‘Please don’t say that.’

TJ was silent. He looked down at the table.

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. From London. Matt’s going with me.’

‘Tomorrow? Christ, Rosie, thanks for the notice.’

‘It was just last minute. You know how these things are. What difference does it make when I go?’

Silence. TJ finished his wine.

‘Because I’m going away too, Rosie. To New York.’

Rosie’s stomach dropped. She glanced at him then into her glass, trying to compose herself. Insecurity made her mind a blur of depressing possibilities. Christ, why had she never even considered he might leave her again? How stupid was that?

‘Not for long,’ TJ said, touching her hand.

‘How long? Why?’ She looked up at him, studying his face for any signs that he was about to finish everything.

‘You know that place I told you about, the jazz place where I played with Kat and Gerry? Well, the resident band is going on a tour for about three to six months to Europe and they’ve offered us the gig – well for the first three months anyway. But it might be six.’

Rosie’s gut burned with jealousy. She hoped it wasn’t written all over her face.

‘So you’re going with Kat and Gerry?’ she said. ‘Nice and cosy.’ She regretted it as soon as she said it.

TJ let go of her hand and gave her a petulant look.

‘Don’t be stupid, Rosie.’

She didn’t answer, and they sat in long, heavy silence.

‘When you going?’

‘Just over a week.’

‘Christ, TJ! When were you going to tell me? The day before you left?’

TJ put his hands up. ‘I’ve been trying to tell you, Rosie. I was planning to tell you last week when you came to my house for the curry, but with you getting beaten up and stuff I didn’t want to do it then. And then when
Emir got killed … I just felt there was too much shit going on with you.’

Rosie said nothing. She let him hold her hand, but she didn’t respond. She wanted to rise above all her anxieties and jealousy, but she couldn’t. She stared into her wine glass, knocked back the remainder of it, then spoke.

‘TJ.
Did
you have an affair with Kat? I mean when you were in New York?’

The words hung there for what seemed like an age. TJ kept looking at her and she held his stare for as long she could, seeing the hurt and anger in his eyes until she had to look away from him. She waited for his answer. Eventually he spoke.

‘Rosie. Listen to me. Kat was and is a friend, and we were close. I won’t answer that question. It’s irrelevant. I love you, and I want to be with you. Look at me.’ He touched her face and gently turned it so she was forced to look at him. ‘I don’t want to be with anyone else. I never stopped thinking about you. Even all the time I was in New York.’

There was another silence, then TJ got up and took some notes out of his pocket to pay the bill. Rosie got up and put her jacket on and they went out the door, the old restaurant owner giving them a discreet berth as though he sensed it was best to keep his distance.

Outside it was hot and sticky, and they stood looking at each other. Then TJ stepped close and took her face in his hands.

‘Don’t let’s waste this, Rosie.’ He kissed her on the lips, softly at first, then hard, pulling her into his arms and
holding her tight as the sky opened up, first with heavy raindrops then suddenly in torrents.

They stood with the the warm rain streaming down their faces.

‘Come on. Let’s get a cab. I haven’t seen your new place yet,’ TJ said, and hailed a black hack as it came towards them.

CHAPTER 28

It was a short drive from the airport in Sarajevo to the mountain village of Olovo, where Adrian lived on the outskirts with his mother and sister. But the weighty silences in the car were making it seem longer. Rosie was glad Matt wasn’t full of his usual banter from the back seat. On the flight over, she’d warned him that most of the area they were about to enter around Sarajevo was bound to be a place of deep sadness for Adrian, and they should both have respect for that.

From the front passenger seat, Rosie stole little glances at her Bosnian friend as he drove through places which still bore the scars of the Serb shelling and bombing that had all but decimated them during the Bosnian war – a war which had lasted over three years from 1992. It was always hard to tell anything from Adrian’s poker-faced expression, but Rosie guessed that every time he did this journey, he could still see the lost souls murdered and butchered by the mindless thugs who rampaged through his homeland. The ghosts were everywhere, and even in
the sunshine, blazing from a cloudless sky, there was an eerie backdrop aura about the landscape.

‘Adrian,’ Rosie said, leaning forward a little so she could catch his sideward glance. ‘Maybe you could tell us a little bit about the area we’re driving through here. We saw a lot of it on television at the time, and I saw a little when I went on the charity trip, but you were here. Do you mind talking about it?’

Adrian gave the kind of weary sigh that went with his hooded eyelids and tired pallor, but nodded and said he didn’t mind talking.

He glanced out of the side window, taking one hand off the steering wheel to make a sweeping gesture. ‘Here. Everywhere you see around here, is the story of killings and murder and rapes. I remember it always.’ He turned to Rosie. ‘Like you, maybe. The way you told me you remember many bad things you see in places.’

‘No, Adrian, not like me. I wasn’t part of it, like you were.’

He nodded and said nothing for a while as they continued along the isolated roads, driving between deep, rolling valleys and high mountains, lush and green valleys.

‘Here, all around, is very beautiful,’ Adrian said. ‘For me is beautiful to grow up in this place. But is lot of bad memories now. I will take you to some places tomorrow when we are going to Belgrade.’

‘Good.’

‘But first, we will stop soon and drink coffee and we can talk about our work and the plans to find this Raznatovic. I have information for you.’ He lit a cigarette
and rolled down the window to blow the smoke out. After a few miles, he pulled into what looked like a panoramic picnic spot, and Rosie felt glad to be out of the car and breathing in the clean, crisp mountain air. Adrian told them to sit outside, and he headed towards the dilapitated timber cafe a few yards away, where the owner stood outside in his apron, smoking a cigarette. He greeted Adrian with a broad smile and a hug.

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