Grievous Angel bs-21 Read online

  I let that pass me by. ‘If you’re ready,’ I said. She nodded and I led her into the viewing room, Jeff Adam behind her. ‘Is this the body of your son, Marlon Watson?’ I asked her, for the record.

  She didn’t flinch when she looked at the trolley; there wasn’t a sign of a tremor, but in truth, I hadn’t expected her to collapse at my feet. After all, this was a woman who’d once identified her brother by the tattoos on the knuckles of the severed right hand that was all they had to show her. ‘Yes,’ she replied, then turned on her heel and walked out.

  ‘Thanks, Bella,’ I said, outside. ‘I know, from personal experience, that couldn’t have been easy for you.’

  I was trying to be sympathetic, but she looked at me with disdain. ‘You know fuck all,’ she sneered.

  I gave up trying. ‘But you know a fucking sight more than you’ve told us,’ I barked. ‘You can’t expect me to believe that Marlon didn’t tell you anything about his job with Manson. What was going on there? For that matter, you’re hocking your mutton to punters in the saunas. No prizes for guessing which ones or who owns them, so, how did a woman your age get taken on there? You’re not doing it to pay off drug debts. I can tell a serious user just by looking at her, and you’re not one. But you’re not a kid either; you’re about fifteen years older than the norm, even if you don’t look it. Come on, did you get the gig through Marlon, or did Manson take you on himself?’ I thought I saw the faintest twitch in the corner of one eye. ‘Hey!’ I exclaimed. ‘You’ve been shagging Tony, haven’t you?’

  ‘Fuck off!’ she shouted and stormed out of the building.

  ‘Well, well, well, Jeff,’ I murmured. ‘How about that for a connection!’

  ‘For sure,’ he chuckled. ‘How did you stumble on that?’

  ‘It wasn’t that difficult. Manson’s a famous sexual athlete. He owns those saunas, all fronts for brothels, and the girls that work in them are on call. He wants laid, he phones. My guess? Marlon asked him if his mother could work there, Tony had a look, and gave her the okay; almost certainly test-drove her himself. It fits, all of it. She catches Manson’s eye, and before you know it she has nice new furniture, she’s clothes shopping in Jenner’s, and her son goes from being one of the boss’s several message boys to being his personal driver. Tell me a part that doesn’t fit.’

  ‘I can’t,’ he admitted. ‘But what does it tell us, boss?’

  ‘Nothing for sure, but it makes me wonder. If Marlon’s death is down to a potential rival of Tony’s, does that make Bella a target too?’ I mused. ‘It might.’

  ‘What can we do about it if she is?’

  ‘We could pity the guys that go for her. If she’s not carrying a shooter in her handbag I’d be surprised. Of course we could find it and lift her for that, but it wouldn’t get us anywhere. No, I’m going to put her under surveillance.’

  ‘Who will you use?’

  I looked at him. ‘I’ll need to think about that. She knows us, she’s seen Martin, and McGuire would stand out like a lighthouse. Macken and Reid? What do you think?’

  Adam hesitated. ‘To be honest…’ he began.

  I let him get no further. ‘Don’t ever be anything else. We’ll use new talent, then. I’ll take care of it. Come on, we’d better get suited up for Joe’s performance.’

  By the time we took our places at the back of the autopsy suite, Marlon had been moved to the dissection table. ‘All present?’ the professor asked. ‘Then let’s begin.’ He beckoned towards him. ‘Before we begin, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I want you to take a look at these X-rays.’ Several images, covering the full length of the body, were set out on a long viewing screen. He didn’t have to tell me what he wanted us to see. There were obvious fractures of every limb, of several ribs, of the right collarbone, and of the skull.

  ‘Christ, Joe,’ I murmured, ‘he looks as if he’s been hit by a bus.’

  ‘Travelling at quite a speed. I’ve had the length of the drop from the diving platform measured: thirty feet and seven inches. That means that he would have hit the deck at just over twenty miles per hour. An anomaly, certainly.’

  ‘What does it say?’

  ‘Let me do a full examination,’ he said, ‘and then I’ll give you a wholly informed opinion. You go back over there and give me some breathing space.’

  By that stage of my career I was a post-mortem veteran. They’d been a regular part of my time on the drugs squad. That doesn’t mean to say I was permanently inured to the gore, the exposed bone and organs, and the smell. I had a sell-by date, as I found out more than a decade later; I believe that every police officer has… or should have. Today, I cannot continue reading a novel in which the author goes into a detailed autopsy description that has no real bearing on the narrative, but seems to be there only to shock or to show off. Back then, though, in my mid-thirties, I was able to stay detached. That’s not to say what I saw had no effect. Years later, Alex told me that she always knew by my mood in the evening when I’d been to a post-mortem during the day. It was the only part of my job that I ever brought home even though I didn’t know it at the time.

  Joe Hutchinson was famously meticulous. He had never been caught out in the witness box and he never would be. But even by his standards his examination of Marlon Watson took a long time. I’d hoped to meet Alison for a quick lunch, but by mid-morning I could see where it was headed, so I called her to cancel. As it happened she was busy too, unexpectedly. I wondered if Jay was giving her a hard time.

  The professor broke for coffee after two hours, but wouldn’t give us a progress report. By the time it ended, the subject looked like a turkey on Boxing Day.

  I was so relieved when we were able to peel off our suits and get out of there that I didn’t mind waiting another twenty minutes for Joe to get himself scrubbed and dressed. He rejoined us in the reception area, looking tired, but satisfied, having left his assistant to reassemble the jigsaw.

  ‘I would say, gentlemen, under oath of course, that whoever killed this man, they were very sadistic and very determined. I am not able to tell you how many times he was tossed from that platform, but it was, beyond doubt, more than once. You saw the X-rays for yourselves, but what they didn’t indicate was that there are fractures to both the front and the back of the skull; conclusive proof. They simply kept chucking him off until he was dead. Hell of a way to kill someone,’ he murmured, in a tone that almost sounded respectful. ‘After the first couple of falls, he would have had to be carried or dragged back up to the platform, and that of itself would have been excruciating. The body is massively damaged, but there is bruising to the wrists and ankles that’s consistent with him being gripped hard, lifted and tossed over the edge. In my view he was already dead, or dying, the last time this was done. He hit the floor of the pool skull and face first and there is no sign of any resistance to the impact on that occasion, but several of the fractures, to the wrists and arms for example, indicate that there was earlier. If it’s important for you to know how often he was dropped, you might have your crime scene team examine the pool for damage to the tiles. It’ll be there, it’ll be considerable, and it might give you an answer.’

  ‘It won’t tell us why, though, Joe,’ I pointed out. ‘Could they have been trying to get information from him?’

  ‘That’s not a hypothesis I could advance in evidence. You’ll have to catch the perpetrators and ask them.’

  ‘And we will,’ I said, ‘but can you say as a pathologist whether you’d expect someone to survive a thirty-foot drop on to a hard surface?’

  He pondered my question for a few seconds; eventually he nodded. ‘A young, fit man, hands and feet unrestrained: yes, I would, but I’d expect fractures, even if he managed to land feet first.’

  ‘So what we’re dealing with here is a form of torture, not just an attempted murder that took a while to succeed?’

  ‘That’s one way of putting it, yes. To be frank, the only thing I can rule out is suicide.’

  Five<
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  Leggat, Martin and McGuire were all in the office when we got back. The two DCs were still on a late lunch break; not a great way to impress a new boss, and even less so on the first day of an investigation.

  I let Jeff Adam give them the blow-by-blow of the autopsy. ‘They bounced the poor bastard off the swimming pool floor until he was dead,’ he summarised, as neat a description as I could have offered.

  ‘Somebody must have been seriously upset with him to do that,’ the DI said.

  ‘Or very keen for him to tell them something,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Could he have been double-crossing Tony over something? Or could he…’ he stopped, in mid-sentence. ‘Here, he isn’t on anyone’s informant list, is he?’

  ‘Bella Watson’s son? No way. No, Fred, when he was just running for Manson we… the drugs squad, I mean… had him in often enough. If he’d been a grass, I’d have been warned. Mind you… have a word with the Scottish Crime Squad crew, in case they were cultivating him.’

  ‘Without telling us?’

  ‘Roles reversed I wouldn’t tell them,’ I pointed out, ‘unless they needed to know. Yes, do that, but we won’t hold our breath for a response. No, first priority is finding Tony Manson. Did you check his house?’

  ‘Yes, I sent a car out there. It’s locked up, and the phone’s on auto answer.’

  ‘How did you get on with that wee shit of a lawyer?’

  ‘He stonewalled us.’ Leggat sighed. ‘Said he doesn’t know where his client is, or how to get in touch with him.’

  ‘Did you believe him?’

  ‘The first might be true, the second won’t be.’

  I turned to McGuire. I couldn’t help but admire his suit; pale blue mohair. ‘Mario, cameras?’

  ‘They have tapes for us, boss. They’ve promised them by this afternoon.’

  ‘Fine. Chase them up if they’re not here in half an hour. When they arrive, review them; you know what you’re looking for.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘And one other thing. The suit; when I said you could lose the uniform I didn’t mean you to replace it with Savile Row. This is CID. We do unobtrusive here.’

  The big guy looked crestfallen. ‘Sorry, boss.’

  I smiled. ‘That’s okay. It might come in handy if you ever go undercover in the New Club. Who’s your tailor, by the way?’

  ‘A friend of my cousin Paula’s,’ he said, morale restored. ‘She gets me a deal.’

  ‘Mmm,’ I murmured. ‘Maybe she could get me one too.’

  ‘I’ll ask her.’ Then he frowned. ‘One other thing, sir. DCS Stein asked if you’d go and see him.’

  ‘Urgent?’

  ‘He didn’t say so.’

  Whatever, a summons from the head of CID wasn’t something to be pushed to one side. I had a small private office at the far end of the suite. I headed for it, and asked Leggat to come with me. I’d been shown it the day before. My predecessor, Jock Davey, had taken early retirement on health grounds, and a couple of his possessions were still on the desk, a calculator, and a heavy glass paperweight. I put them on the window sill and eased myself into the well-worn chair; Leggat took one of the visitor seats.

  ‘Fred,’ I began, ‘before I go and see the boss, there are a couple of things we need to discuss. First, the media haven’t happened upon this yet, not for what it is. Someone from the UNS news agency called St Leonards last night asking about activity in Infirmary Street and the desk sergeant told him it was a break-in, for at the time that’s all he thought it was. But we have to come clean now. I’d like you to have the press office put out a statement telling the media that we’re investigating the death of Marlon Watson… you can name him… and treating it as murder. No more detail than that, though. You should add on the usual appeal for witnesses. Anyone who saw Watson on Tuesday, or who saw anything unusual in the Infirmary Street area around midnight that night.’

  The DI nodded. ‘I’ve got it drafted already, sir.’

  ‘I thought you might have. By the way, in this wee room, it’s Bob. That’s item one. Next, what’s your view on our two DCs?’

  ‘Macken and Reid? Not my choice, either of them; they don’t know what initiative is. They were old cronies of DCI Davey; he brought them with him when he took over here.’

  ‘Right. They’ll be replaced. I don’t plan to piss off Roy Old by emptying the drugs squad, but there’s a DC there I want to bring in. His name’s Brian Mackie. He’s only a couple of years older than McGuire and Martin, but he’s cool under pressure, plus he’s firearms trained. I want to set up surveillance on Bella Watson. I’m going to put him on that, him and one other new boy.’

  Leggat was surprised. ‘Surveillance on the mother?’

  ‘Yeah, for two reasons. I’m pretty certain that she’s servicing Tony Manson, but I don’t know how close they are. I’m also sure that the guys who killed Marlon didn’t just do it for fun or revenge. They were trying to get information out of him. If his mother knows what he knew…’

  ‘It makes her a potential target.’

  ‘Precisely. But there’s more than that; if she’s in the loop, it’s possible she has an idea who did for her boy. If so, they’re in trouble themselves. Bella’s tougher than any of her family were, and probably more dangerous.’

  ‘I see,’ he murmured, thoughtfully. ‘Who have you got in mind for the second bod on surveillance?’

  ‘Nobody. You got any ideas? Bear in mind that when the operation’s over, Macken and Reid will be out and they’ll stay.’

  He leaned back in his chair. ‘Male or female? There’s that lass in DCS Stein’s office. I rate her, if he’d let us have her.’

  ‘Mmm. We’re not supposed to be sexist, Fred, but where Bella lives a woman would be very obvious. We can fit her in, possibly, in the future, but for this job, a guy.’

  ‘Age?’

  ‘Don’t care.’

  ‘In that case,’ he began, ‘there’s a young lad called Steele, DC Steven Steele. We were looking closely at Jackie Charles a couple of months ago, after an armed robbery, and I borrowed him from Leith. I saw a lot in him. Charismatic’s not a word I chuck around, but it applied to him.’

  I had to laugh. ‘In that case he’ll blend in well with Mackie. Big Brian’s had a charisma bypass.’ I rose. ‘I’d better go see the boss, since he’s asked. I’ll fix those transfers with him.’

  I left the suite and went down one floor, to the lair of the head of CID. His exec… her name was Shannon, DC Dorothy Shannon… was behind his desk in the outer office. DCS Stein and I both liked to work with junior officers who were young enough not to have found a comfort zone. She looked up as I entered. ‘Afternoon, sir,’ she said, briskly.

  ‘And you, Dottie, and you. Is he in?’

  ‘Yes, sir. He’s expecting you.’

  He was standing by his coffee machine when I opened the door. He’d heard me, for there were two mugs beside it and he was filling them from the pot that stood there, ever ready. When he retired, he gave the contraption to me. To this day, I drink too much coffee and it’s down to Alf.

  ‘I hear you’ve had a baptism,’ he murmured as he handed me a brimming mug, emblazoned with the image of his namesake, the late great football manager.

  ‘Yes indeed,’ I agreed. ‘I had to take up the reins early,’ I felt myself scowl, ‘or rather I had them thrust into my hands.’

  ‘I heard that too. You shouldn’t be so rough on Greg.’

  ‘Greg’s a bam-pot,’ I growled. Stein shared my west of Scotland origins; he knew what the word meant.

  In fact he knew better than I did. ‘No, son,’ he chuckled, ‘he’s a bam-stick. A bam-stick is used for stirring a bam-pot, and that’s what makes him useful.’

  ‘Either way, he’s shit.’

  He looked at me sharply. ‘Bob, you listen to me. The one thing that will hold you back in the job is letting personal feelings screw up your judgement. I don’t like the man any more than you do. Indeed I know thi
ngs about him that you don’t, things I could use to bounce him off the force tomorrow. I’m not saying that he takes backhanders. Hell no, he dislikes criminals even more than he dislikes you, but he’s got other faults. I keep him, though, because he’s actually a better detective than he’s given credit for. Of all the divisional CID commanders, he’s got the best clear-up rate.’

  ‘I gather you’ve had a call from him.’

  ‘No, I’ve had a visit. He complained about you walking into his crime scene and kicking him off his own investigation. He complained about you bringing your daughter with you. He complained about you commandeering three of his officers. He complained about you having personal relations with one of them.’

  ‘He did what!’ I roared.

  ‘Calm down, now, while I tell you. I yelled at him too when he said that, and asked him what the hell he meant by it. He told me that Higgins never went back to St Leonards. He said he called her at midnight, and then again at six in the morning, and got no reply, so he drove out to Gullane and saw her car parked outside your house.’

  ‘I’m going to kill him,’ I declared, quietly and sincerely.

  ‘No, you’re not.’ Alf smiled. ‘I forbid it.’

  ‘Boss, I took Alex with me last night because I had no option. Jay effectively dumped the investigation in my lap, and Alison took her home as a favour to me. Yes, she stayed the night, but she was never part of the investigation team, so what’s that to Jay? You know about the two of us, anyway. As for Martin and McGuire, I seconded them because I needed them and because you and the chief made it clear I’ve got the power to do that.’

  ‘You don’t have to explain yourself,’ he told me. ‘I’m not asking you to. Bob, I sent Jay out of here with his tail between his legs and the threat of organising traffic patrols in Hawick ringing in his ears. The only reason I’m telling you about it is to emphasise what can happen when you make enemies. You’re a bull, son, and you’ve got to develop colour blindness when somebody waves a red flag at you.’

  I nodded, chastened. ‘Point taken, boss.’ I frowned. ‘But now you’ve got me worried about Alison. She works for Jay.’