‘To do some work at the house,’ Tanya immediately replied.
A flash of irritation passed across Nicola’s face and she didn’t reply straight away. ‘OK, but I need a word with both of you before tomorrow’s conference, so be in early.’ Nicola motioned with her head for them to go and, without waiting for any acknowledgement, she walked away towards her office.
Tanya didn’t hang around to see if Nicola changed her mind and made for the door. Douglas followed her. In the corridor she informed him that the BMW was parked a five minutes walk away in Bishop Lane.
*****
‘Do you want to eat at the house?’ Tanya asked as they headed up the exit road off the M8.
‘No, I’ve got to meet Susanne at eight in the City Centre.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘It’s called Below the Stairs.’
‘Don’t know that one. Where is it?’
‘Candleriggs.’
‘Have we any shopping to do?’ Douglas asked as they approached the Asda supermarket.
‘We don’t need anything if we’re not eating. But we should have some DVDs and CDs around the place.’
‘Books?’
‘The Ellis’ interests tend more to drinking lager in front of the TV while watching the latest film release – not drinking Chablis and reading books.’
‘I stand corrected, mistress.’
Tanya gave him a look.
Douglas parked in the road outside the house. He looked across the road and waved in case the dumpy woman was watching. He pressed the key fob and the car doors clunked and then he looked round the front garden. The grass looked long in comparison to the other gardens in the road.
He entered the house and remembering their characters he called out: ‘Jane.’
A pause followed before she replied: ‘Upstairs in the bedroom.’
He ran upstairs and opened the bedroom door to see her unzipping her grey skirt and bending over to step out of it. She straightened up and turned to drop the skirt on the bed. ‘You need to get changed as well – grey trousers aren’t exactly Neil Ellis.’
‘Have we got a lawn mower?’
‘It’s in the shed in the back garden, but I’ll do it, Neil Ellis would get his woman to do the all the hard work.’
‘What?’
‘Why else would he marry a woman with muscles?’ she said, taking yesterday’s short black skirt out of the wardrobe.
Douglas changed into the pair of jeans he’d worn the day before. ‘Apart from cutting the grass what else needs doing?’
‘Put out the things we bought yesterday and check what else we need.’
‘Like what?’
‘Your shaving kit for a start and an alarm clock…and anything else to make it look like our home.’
‘My place is a mess, Susanne won’t come near it…it’s just as well I’m leaving it.’
Tanya finished putting on a pair of white trainers. ‘Sounds very Neil Ellis…where are you moving to?’
‘I’m moving in with Susanne, she has a top floor flat in Albion Street with a great view across the city from the terrace.’
‘Isn’t this a bit sudden?’
‘Not really, we’ve been going out together for years.’
He watched her stand up. ‘Are you going to cut the grass dressed like that?’
‘Yes, Douglas, it’s what Jane Ellis would do…while her husband sat in a deck chair drinking beer.’
It only took him twenty minutes to sort out the list of things they still needed, starting with wedding photographs, shaving kit, alarm clock, shower gel, loo cleaner, bath mats DVDs and CDs. Finally he put the list to one side and took a bottle of Steinhäuser out of the fridge. He rummaged through the kitchen drawers searching for a bottle opener. Eventually he gave up and added bottle opener, can opener and cork screw to the list. He took the BMW keys out of his jacket and went to look in the car for a tool kit.
In the front garden Douglas saw an electric lawnmower sitting in the middle of the small lawn with the cable snaking away round the side of the house. As he looked round for Tanya, she came walking slowly round the side of the house carrying the grass box from the lawnmower.
‘Do you want a lager?’ he asked.
‘OK, I’ve only got to tidy up now.’
He watched her as she bent down to fit the grass box to the lawnmower and coil the cable expertly round the handle, then she picked it up the as if it weighed nothing and carried it back to the garden shed. He put the two bottles of Steinhäuser on the low table by the sofa and waited for her to finish in the shed.
‘Did anyone see your performance?’ he asked
‘The woman across the road and her husband, but that’s probably enough for the neighbours to know what sort of people have moved in. Now, all we need is some loud music to really get up their noses.’
‘We haven’t got any music.’
‘I brought my MP3 player and if the cradle on the sound system works we can practise dancing to loud music.’
‘Don’t you want the beer first?’
‘Dance,’ she said clasping her hands on the back of his neck and pulling him towards her.
*****
Finally Tanya broke away and sat down, her long legs projecting way beyond the edge of the sofa. ‘You should have more beer inside you next time.’
Douglas sat beside her. ‘This sofa was built for the vertically challenged. Who bought it anyway?’
‘Why haven’t you opened the bottles?’
‘Technical hitch – lack of bottle opener.’
‘I thought British men always came prepared with gadgets for every eventuality.’
‘I regret to announce a complete failure in that department. I was never a Boy Scout.’
‘I’ll get mine,’ she said.
He watched her long legs disappear up the stairs. She returned a minute later to hand him a large black-and-silver Swiss Army knife.
‘Look at the size of this thing,’ Douglas said flicking the blades out and in until he found the hooked one for opening bottles. Deftly, he levered the bottle tops off and passed one of the bottles to Tanya. After pushing the opener back into place he levered out more of the attachments. ‘Wow, it’s even got a pair of pliers. You could trek the length of the Amazon with no more than this and a machete.’
She held out her hand. ‘Don’t get too attached to it. I’ll get you one next time I’m in Switzerland; it’s the only thing worth buying apart from chocolate.’
‘Go there often?’
‘Skiing…now drink your beer or Susanne will be annoyed when you turn up late.’
‘You’d make someone a good wife.’
‘No need for that sort of language.’
*****
Douglas, having failed to get Susanne’s dishwasher working, was reading the handbook when his mobile phone rang. Susanne picked it off the worktop and pressed the green button to take the call. ‘Ashburner,’ she said.
‘Dougie?’ said a voice.
‘I’ll pass you over, Detective Inspector.’
‘Who was that, Dougie?’
‘Susanne.’
‘Oh, right…anyway, the DNA results haven’t come back yet, but we have been given the go-ahead to assume it’s Triffit. I’m going round to open up his flat for the forensic guys. I thought you should be in on it.’
‘What’s the address?’
‘It’s in Shaw Street, just follow the noise when you get there,’ Nicola said and ended the call.
Douglas gestured at the dishwasher. ‘Sorry, it will have to wait, duty calls.’
‘You’re not getting off that easy. I think I’ll tag along and see what your boss is up to.’
*****
In Shaw Street Nicola waited outside the front door of the building. She hoped Douglas would arrive before the locksmith and was relieved to see his old Astra turn into Shaw Street and park behind her pool car. But her sense of relief vanished when she saw Susanne step out of the car.
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‘Ah,’ Nicola said and glared at Douglas.
‘DI Collins, please remember you report to the Fiscal’s office and not the other way round,’ Susanne said.
‘Uh, anyway we’re waiting for the locksmith to open the flat, hopefully before the forensic guys and gals arrive. In the meantime, Dougie, can you grab any video from that CCTV camera,’ she said indicating the camera secured to the side of the building, the lens pointed along the street in their direction.
‘Yes.’
‘And you can keep the record of who’s doing what.’
‘Where’s the real Crime Scene Manager?’
‘Busy on another case tonight, Dougie.’
He left the two women glaring at each other and went in search of the owner of the CCTV camera. He returned twenty minutes later after a disappointed round of knocking on doors. ‘Nobody is willing to admit they are responsible for the camera. We’ll need an electrician to chase the wiring and tell us where it goes.’
The locksmith had arrived by this point and was inside the house on the third floor drilling out the lock on Marcus Trivitt’s front door.
‘Apparently the lock is a difficult one and he has to drill it out,’ Nicola said. ‘This could take a while.’
Douglas went back downstairs to where Susanne was sitting in the car with the engine on, listening to the radio. He got back into the car and told her the bad news.
‘Great,’ Susanne replied and pointed at the radio. ‘Is there any way of changing the station on this piece of junk?’
‘The station buttons don’t work, you have to push the up or down buttons to search for another station.’
‘Why don’t you buy a new radio, or better still, a brand new car with a radio.’
‘You have a perfectly good car with a working radio we can use.’
‘Oh, I see, it’s our car now?’
‘Yes, Susanne, I remember you saying you didn’t want to be seen in this rust bucket, so I assumed you don’t want any part of it. Besides, it’s good for certain things.’
‘Give me a for-instance, Douglas.’
‘Out in the schemes this rust bucket blends in, I wouldn’t take a new car on any of those jobs.’
‘Oh, I see, you keep up with Glasgow’s underclass.’
‘Nobody is going to nick the wheels off that car.’
‘My point exactly, anyway we are going in my car to my parent’s next weekend.’
‘This case could drag on a bit.’
Susanne glared at him. ‘Don’t even think about that excuse.’
A van and two cars drew in behind them and Douglas didn’t get an answer to this question. Forensic people got of the vehicles and stood on the pavement looking around. Douglas got out the car. ‘Right, who’s in charge?’ he asked.
‘Are you the Crime Scene Manager?’ one of the crowd asked.
‘Yes, for the moment.’
‘Where’s your clipboard then?’ someone shouted from the back.
‘The flat is on the third floor. There’s a locksmith drilling out the lock,’ Douglas said, waving his hand towards the van with Thomas G. Smith – Locksmith on the side. ‘He should be just about done by now, so if you care to get into your party attire we can get started.’
By the time he had finished taking their names the SOCO team were all in their white and blue coveralls, with masks and gloves at the ready. Douglas led the way up to the third floor. They met Nicola on the second floor on her way down the stairs.
‘Spot on, Dougie, he’s just tidying up,’ she said.
After they’d watched the forensic team enter the flat Nicola turned to him. ‘Right Dougie, we’ll suit up while they get started and remind your girl she needs to suit up as well if she’s going to step over the threshold and not to touch anything at all without asking first.’
‘She has done this before.’
‘People can forget things late at night, Dougie.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said and went back downstairs to find Susanne.
She glared at him when he passed on Nicola’s reminder. ‘Does that bloody woman think everyone is as dense as she is?’
‘She’s in charge of the investigation.’
‘I’ll have words with my father about her, if she’s not careful.’
Douglas groaned inwardly. The last thing he needed was Lord Glendinning having words with his good friend the Chief Constable.
*****
Back upstairs in the flat, he watched while the SOCOs dusted the doors and surfaces for fingerprints. At a loose end until they had finished this process he surveyed the bare austerity of the living room. Wandering into the kitchen he found the same minimalist state, but in what should have been a large bedroom, he found a computer workshop full of equipment. Marcus Triffit hadn’t spent more than he absolutely had to on the comforts most people would deem essential for their home, but he had spent a large amount of money on the contents of this workshop. At a glance he could see two Laptop computers on the central part of the worktop that ran along one wall. The space under the worktop was filled with computer cases. Four monitors sat on top of the worktop and a great tangle of wires ran along the back and down through holes to the computers underneath. Bits of computer littered the table occupying the centre of the room. However, the room was dominated by four steel frame racks, each about Douglas’ height, filled with computer cards in rows, each row comprising six cards. He counted the rows and there were eleven, making a total of sixty-six computer cards in total. After checking the racks were not powered he pulled one of the cards out from the rack. A processor chip sat in the centre of the card, connected to a large heatsink by a heatpipe clamped to the top of the chip. He laid the computer card on the table and took a photograph of the card with his mobile phone, then plugged the card back into the rack. He turned his attention to the table and photographed it from several angles. While he was doing this he noticed one of the cards sitting at the end of the table minus the heatsink and heatpipe. He took a picture of the writing on the top of the chip and was checking the image to see what the writing said when he heard Nicola’s voice calling from the living room: ‘Dougie, grab the computers once they’ve been photo’d and dusted.’
‘Boss, you’d better take a look at this, it’s a bit big to cart away,’ he called back.
‘What,’ Nicola said and appeared in the doorway.
‘This is a computer,’ Douglas said pointing at the four tall racks standing side by side against the wall.
‘You’re joking…all of that is one computer?’
‘At a guess, it’s sixty-six individual computers working in parallel to make one large one.’
‘What the Hell was he using it for?’
‘I think we need to find the answer to that question.’
‘Well, we’re not going to shift that great thing tonight. We can come back for that thing if we think it’s necessary. Get one of the techie guys out of bed and he can take the small stuff away.’
Douglas walked out of the flat and made the phone call to control, then went in search of Susanne and found it difficult to tell which white suited figure was her. By eliminating all the figures that were too short or too tall he reduced the possibilities to two. He looked in the eyes of the nearest white figure and they looked the right colour so he said: ‘This is going to take all night, do you want take my car and go back home?’ But he knew as soon as she spoke that it was the wrong person.
‘I might take you up on that offer, Douglas, but your girlfriend is over there and she’s listening,’ she said and winked at him.
He went red and managed a sorry before slinking away.
*****
Douglas wondered if the techie guy had been in the pub round the corner, because he appeared at the door of Triffit’s flat in record time. After directing him to the bedroom he pointed out all the smaller computers they wanted analysing and left him gazing in wonder at the racks of the monster computer. He collected Susanne and they climbed into th
e Astra. He started the engine and pulled slowly away from the kerb.
‘Why did he have so many computers?’ Susanne asked when they had turned out of Shaw Street.
‘He was a computer freak, so he’s bound to have loads of computers.’
‘It was a bit more than that – I heard you talking to your boss.’
‘He’d built what can be best described as a supercomputer.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘No idea, but I wonder if that’s what got him killed?’
Chapter 8
Friday
Douglas entered the conference room and looked round to see it was empty and, hoping he wouldn’t have to speak, he sat in the middle of the back row. He began thinking about the previous night and the supercomputer Marcus Triffit had built in his flat. Someone at Computing & Software Utilities must know about his hobbies and background. Absorbed in thought he didn’t see Tanya enter the room and her voice startled him.
‘Hi, Douglas, don’t you just love getting in early,’ Tanya said and dropped into the seat next to him. The seats were close together and he felt her muscular thigh pressing against him. ‘Hi, and yes, it has benefits; you can get the seat you want.’
Before Tanya could reply the door opened again and Julie entered. She glared at Tanya and said: ‘Hello, Douglas.’ She walked along the back of the room to sit next to him on the other side from Tanya.
‘Hi, Julie, I see the cheap seats are filling up today,’ Douglas said.
‘You weren’t at lunch yesterday?’ Julie replied.
‘The boss decided to do some case snatching.’
‘Hmm, do I believe you?’
‘It’s God’s honest truth.’
‘OK, but did she succeed?’
The room was filling up fast now and Douglas murmured a reply. ‘We’ll see shortly.’
*****
Ten minutes later than the appointed time Nicola entered the room followed by Superintendent Willis and DCI Caddell. Willis and Caddell sat on the vacant seats at the front and Nicola stood facing the room.
‘Quieten down everyone,’ she said and the babble of voices died away. ‘This morning we are taking on the killing of Marcus Triffit, a computer software engineer, who worked for a company called: Computing & Software Utilities. It is now seven days since the last sighting of him. A man out jogging found his body yesterday morning in the river Clyde near Cambuslang. The preliminary estimate is that his body entered the water two days ago, probably on Monday night. The post-mortem will take place this afternoon. He had been tortured prior to death, so there is little doubt what the Fiscal’s view on this death will be. He must have been held for a period of time before the body was dropped into the river. The probable dump point for the body is the old bridge over the river at the end of Cambuslang Road. The bridge is blocked off at the north end, but it’s still possible to drive onto it from Bridge Street opposite the Morrisons store and SOCO have found the tracks of a 4x4 vehicle going onto the bridge.’
Shallow Water Page 12
