by Zach Abrams
“You're sure it wasn't an act to lure you in?” Sanjay asked.
“Yes, I'm positive,” Phil replied.
“Me too,” Steve added, contributing for the first time.
“Okay, it looks like you'll need to go back and see Lionel. When you were there before, did he give you any information about the knives?” Sanjay asked.
“No, just the same as everyone else,” Mary said.
“Well, that gives you another reason to talk to him without drawing suspicion,” Sanjay stated. “Graeme told us that he'd purchased the knives through a magic wholesaler in Las Vegas and that he'd claimed back the cost. Lionel's the Treasurer, he'd have made the reimbursement and he'll have the invoice which he'd paid the money out against. I want you to call Lionel and tell him you need to see him again. Say you need to see the original invoice from the supplier, Top Hat, Graeme said they're called. Tell him you need it urgently and ask him to look it out and arrange for him to bring it in A.S.A.P. No doubt he'll be on his own, but even if not, you can make sure you see him alone.”
“Sounds like a good approach,” Alex added.
“That makes a lot of sense,” Donny said. “However, I've got a problem. It's my wee grandson's parents' night at school and I really need to be there because my son and daughter-in-law are away for a few days and I've been left holding the baby, so to speak. Could I maybe arrange for Lionel to bring the papers in first thing tomorrow morning?”
Sanjay was about to answer, but he was too slow.
“No, it can't wait,” Alex said. “Don't worry, you go to your parents' night and I'll sit in the interview with Mary. It could work quite well for him to see an unfamiliar face.” He was secretly quite pleased to have something to get his teeth into.
“That's settled,” Sanjay followed up, asserting some control. “You go and make the phone call and get Lionel in now. Meanwhile, we'll continue to check whatever other information's come in.” He spotted a suppressed smirk from Phil and quickly added, “As for you two, you can get back round to see Aaron again. This is a murder investigation, not a matter for gossip and innuendo. You need to properly question him and get the answers to the questions signed off as a formal statement. I'll grant you did gather some good information, but you were shoddy how you went about it. What's more, in this unit we support each other and work together as a team. I expect better from you.”
“Yes, Sarg,” Phil and Steve echoed each other, both staring at their feet, feeling a little chastened, particularly when they saw Alex looking on, nodding his agreement.
“Next, what else have you got?” Sanjay continued.
“I tried calling Top Hat this morning but couldn't get through,” Mary started. “Of course, I hadn't taken account of the time difference. I did manage to get them about an hour ago, after we came back from seeing Lionel. I spoke to their International Sales Manager. It took me a while to convince him who I was and that I wasn't making a spoof call, but after I did he was very cooperative. He confirmed the order from Graeme and said there hadn't been any orders for single knives or indeed any other orders for the set to anywhere in Scotland within the last three months. I also confirmed that they have a customer fulfilment facility organised through a magic manufacturer in Birmingham.”
“What the Hell does that mean?” Steve enquired.
Mary continued, “They each hold the other's stock and pack and arrange postage of orders to enable quick delivery at reasonable prices. Graeme's order was sent out using this system. The guy in Vegas offered to arrange a stock audit to ensure there are no blades unaccounted for, but it will take a few days before we have the results.”
“Good work, Mary. It's the best we can hope for under the circumstances, but keep on at them until you get answers,” Sanjay said.
Donny re-entered the room. “I spoke to Lionel and he should be here in about an hour.” Looking at his watch, he added, “I can hang on for a bit, but if I'm to make the school meeting on time, I'll be away before he gets here.”
“Righto, who's next?” Sanjay asked.
Phil kicked off, “I've talked to our technicians, the ones who've been analysing Sheila's computer. They've checked for any email correspondence about the argument Sheila had with the American author but found nothing of value. They then checked out her Facebook account and that was a whole different story. They've been able to provide the complete chain of correspondence and there's more to it. To cut a long story short, Sheila was a member of a Facebook group which was designed to supply mutual support amongst its members. They would read each other's work and promotional material and give one another tips. They would also trade reviews to try to boost their books' presence on the internet sales sites. It seems they had an unwritten rule that they only posted reviews where they were giving four or five stars. If they thought the other person's book deserved less, then they'd send their comments privately to avoid causing damage. Anyhow, Sheila did a review of a book written by this woman in Texas – her name's Honey D'Lite – well, at least that's what she calls herself when she's writing. Sheila really slated her and awarded her book only one star. She was quite ruthless in her comments. To give you an example, one talked about how sickly sweet Honey was, except for the bitter aftertaste this one left.
“Honey was incensed, accusing Sheila of breaking all the rules of the group. She said Sheila had set out to sabotage her by ripping into her book with a really bad review which was especially damaging as she hadn't had a chance to get established. Honey had demanded Sheila remove or improve the review. Sheila not only refused, she posted it on every book sales review site she could find. Honey campaigned for her to be expelled from the group. When it didn't happen, she made all sorts of threats about how she'd get even. Then it all seemed to go quiet. But wait for the best bit. According to her Facebook page, she's on a month's vacation, touring Europe and the tour includes a visit to Scotland. She's here in Glasgow as we speak.”
“Well there's one suspect with motive, but what about means and opportunity?” Alex enquired.
“Early days, Sir,” Phil replied. “But we certainly need to talk to her. Obviously, Honey D'Lite's a nom de plume. First we want to find out who she really is.”
“Or he, don't rule out that it could be a man behind the disguise,” Alex said.
Phil paused, contemplating and then continued, “I hadn't considered the possibility, but I reckon it's unlikely because of the content on the website and Facebook page. I've been able to learn a lot about who she is on-line and I've asked our colleagues across the pond to help out too.”
“When do you expect to have something more concrete?” Sanjay asked
“Hopefully within the next couple of hours, but I can't promise,” Phil said. “I'll let you know as soon as I hear.”
“Medical Examiner's report?” Sanjay enquired.
“The formal report's not in yet, but we've had a provisional from Duffie. It's only verbal so far,” Steve offered. “Again, it's pretty much as we expected. Cause of death is stabbing with the blade puncturing her heart and death followed within seconds. The incision is consistent with the knife we have and there's nothing whatsoever to suggest any other cause. But just for completeness, he noted that she'd had a couple of broken bones, left femur and fibula, probably incurred two or three years ago. She had some deep scratches on her back and upper arms, fairly recent, and there were traces of barbiturates in her bloodstream.”
“What had she been on?” Sanjay asked. “Was it prescription?”
“They don't know yet for certain and we'll need to confirm with her G.P. but first impressions suggest it was uppers,” Steve replied. “He also said something about a tumour and he'll know more later. On another matter, I've been checking in with the 'scene of crime' and again, it's all been confirmation of what we already have. The only prints on the knife were from Bert, but they've been doing a comparison of the murder weapon with the other real knife we recovered, and so far, everything looks authentic. They've some mor
e tests to do, but that's how it stands at the moment.”
“This may count for nothing,” Donny added, “but I've something here which may justify further examination. Apparently, Sheila and Graeme arrived at the school in separate cars and about fifteen minutes apart.”
“Interesting,” Alex commented. “Where did you get that from?”
“One of the interviews raised the question, but it was confirmed by the office register. All visitors have to sign in.”
“There's any number of innocent explanations of why they arrived separately, but taken together with other things we've learned, it does give pause for thought,” Alex replied.
The discussions continued as they analysed each statement and piece of evidence gathered with all brainstorming to develop new angles and ideas. Donny left to attend his meeting, and shortly afterwards, the call came through to advise them Lionel had arrived.
Enthusiastically, Alex leapt to his feet, addressing Mary as he made for the door. “Come on, Lass, back to business.”
Chapter 9
Immediately following receipt of a phone call from the hospital to advise her Fergus Hardy was considered fit enough to receive visitors, Sandra called for Peter Lister to join her, then rushed out to her car. She'd first met Peter a couple of days earlier, but already she'd been impressed. His chubby, round face was topped by a mass of blonde curls and this look combined with his boyish charm made him seem little more than a schoolchild. However, he was sharp and enthusiastic and his youthful appearance could prove quite disarming to potential suspects.
Travelling from the Court building, they took the M8 in the direction of the Clyde Tunnel, turning off at the last moment towards Govan Road, Linthouse, and the entrance to the Southern General Hospital. The whole journey took a little over ten minutes. However, they wasted more time searching the sprawling expanse to locate the building they wanted and then seek a vacant parking space. In the end, they abandoned Sandra's Hyundai in a 'no parking' zone but took the precaution to display a 'police on duty' sign. Looking up, they could see the massive glass and metal structure of the new hospital, now nearing completion and designed to replace the ancient sandstone buildings. Dodging construction traffic on the way, they found their way to the ward and introduced themselves to the nursing staff, asking to see Fergus Hardy. They were signalled towards a private room but warned they'd only be allowed a few minutes.
When they entered, they could see the lawyer only partially dressed, lying flat out on a hospital bed. His eyes were tightly closed and he had dark blue coloured bruising to his face and upper torso. His left leg was almost completely covered in plaster and raised in traction and his left arm was similarly bound.
“Good afternoon, Mr Hardy. I understand you've been through the wars a bit,” Sandra opened. She'd already agreed with Peter their approach: she'd lead the questions and he'd take notes, only entering the conversation if the need arose or he picked up on any angles which she may have missed.
Hardy's eyes flickered. “Ah, Sergeant McKinnon, and here was I thinking life just couldn't get any better. And you've brought your baby brother with you too. How sweet.”
“It's been Inspector McKinnon for the last few months and this is Detective Constable Lister. I'm glad you're pleased to see us and I only wish I could say it was mutual, but I'm sure you'll not be surprised to learn it's not a social call.”
“Oh, have you come to consult me for some legal advice? Maybe you need me to defend you on a police brutality charge.”
“Come, come, Fergus. I thought you'd be able to manage better than to roll out all the old clichés. Do I need to make special allowances because you're not too well or maybe it's the effect of the medication you're on?”
“Okay, Officer. As you say, it's not a social call so enough of the banter. I'm glad you've acknowledged I'm sedated which confirms you also realise that you can't rely on anything I say.”
“I'm not certain I could ever have relied on anything you told me, but that aside, I'm looking into your assault and I want to know what you can tell me.”
“Very little, I'm afraid. One moment I was talking to a client and the next I was flying through the air.”
“Did you recognise the boys who did this?”
“I'm sorry, no. All I could tell was they were young and slim and wearing hoodies. That's as much as I saw.”
“What about your client? Who was he?”
“I don't have to say anything about him.”
“From information we've received, we understand it could have been Patrick Carson. Can you confirm this?”
Hardy paused and his contemplative expression gave them the impression they were correct, but he took a deep breath before replying, “No comment.”
“Come now, Mr Hardy. Surely you don't imagine he'll be calling on your services to defend him for conspiracy to murder you.”
Hardy's eyes flickered a couple of times before he repeated, “No comment.”
“Do you consider this was an attempt to kill you, or was it maybe just to put the frighteners on?”
“I really couldn't say.”
“Couldn't or don't want to?”
“Listen, Detective, your guess is as good as mine.”
“I think not, but nevertheless, we want to find out why you were targeted.”
“I can see that.”
“Well?”
“I don't know.”
“You wouldn't like to maybe hazard a guess?”
“No.”
“It's been suggested to us that perhaps Mr Zennick was unhappy about losing his case last week.”
“I'm sure Mr Zennick was disappointed with the verdict, as, of course, was I.”
“Could he have been more than disappointed and perhaps considered it to be your fault? Maybe he wanted to get back at you.”
“You can hardly expect me to comment on that. It's just idle speculation.”
“It's a bit more than that, Mr Hardy. Zennick was shouting and swearing as he was led from the courtroom. You were the main target of his comments. He was claiming you'd let him down and worked against him.”
“You seem to have already made up your own mind, so there isn't any point in me commenting.”
“I'm sorry if I gave that impression. I'd truly like to know your opinion.”
“I don't have an opinion and I don't need to say anything. You seem to forget, I'm the victim here,” Hardy said.
“No, I haven't forgotten, but there are other issues that need examination. There could be further criminal issues.” Sandra fixed Hardy with a stare.
Hardy's face kept a blank expression and he returned the stare without comment.
Following a short pause, Sandra continued, “Well, let's try another approach, Mr Hardy. The suggestion has been made that some of your more influential clients had a desire for Mr Zennick to lose his case and perhaps exerted pressure on you, so you wouldn't represent him as effectively as you might have.”
“Now that's an outrageous suggestion. You don't really expect me to give merit to it with a reply. I've already said more than enough. I think you'd better leave.” Despite the severity of his words, Hardy remained composed and impassive.
“So be it,” Sandra replied. “But just one last thing. What can you tell me about the hold-up of the Court's cash office, yesterday?”
Hardy visibly relaxed and a broad smile spread across his face. “Yes, I heard about it. Very embarrassing for the Court and for your people. I can't tell you anything about it though.”
“The perpetrators were young, slim and wearing hoodies. In your opinion, could there be any link to the boys who assaulted you?”
“I've no idea. That's for you to find out.”
Sandra nodded curtly then walked out of the door, quickly followed by Peter. They walked in silence until they reached the car.
“What did you make of that one?” Sandra asked.
“Hard to tell, he's a real cold fish. He didn't give anything away.”
“But he didn't say anything.”
“He didn't need to.”
“Should we go and talk to Zennick then?” Peter asked.
“Perhaps later, there's not much point now as we don't have enough evidence. We don't have any evidence actually, just 'idle speculation' was Hardy's expression. Zennick has a cast-iron alibi, sitting as he is at the moment in a cell in Bar-L. What we can do though is check to see what visitors he's received since he went inside.”
“I'll get straight onto it as soon as we're back in the office.”
“Good, we'll head back then. There's nothing further for us to do at the Court just now.”
“Okay, Ma'am. Can I ask you something? You asked Hardy about a possible connection between the hold-up and the assault. Do you think it likely?”
“Not particularly. On first appearance, the two crimes are unrelated, but on the other hand, as I said to Hardy, they both involved young men wearing hoodies and they happened within a few yards of each other on successive days. It seems an awful lot of a coincidence. There were only two of them involved in the hold-up whereas it took four to throw Hardy over the wall, but we ought to learn more after we've examined surveillance tapes from the local area.”
Their office in the Helen Street, Divisional Headquarters was a very short drive away and the return journey took only a few minutes.
Sandra settled at the desk recently assigned to her and began studying reports. Peter secured a desk close-by and immediately started working the phones.
