by Zach Abrams
“This has got nothing to do with me,” Gilchrist defended.
“Once again, I have to correct you,” Sandra claimed. “Have you ever heard of the concept of 'Joint Enterprise'?”
“What are you talking about?”
“It's a legal doctrine that's being increasingly used to prosecute each of the people who've been involved in carrying out a crime, as if they were the ones who committed it. In this case, a murder has been carried out and you've been an essential ingredient in enabling it to take place. This leaves you liable to be prosecuted for murder.”
“What? You can't be serious. There's nothing you can pin on me.”
“You hang onto that thought if it makes you feel better, but don't get too comfortable,” Sandra challenged. “In fact, you should check it out with your solicitor when you speak to him. By the way, you do realise you could end up sharing a cell with some of the inmates you've previously been looking after. I hope you've not made too many enemies.”
Gilchrist struggled to maintain his composure. All colour drained from his face and his hands trembled. “I had no part in any murder. I never intended any harm to come to anyone. I didn't mean any wrong. I can tell you what I know, but you must promise that you'll never let on that you got anything from me.”
“It's up to the fiscal who and how he plans to prosecute, but it'll stand you in much better stead if you're seen to cooperate. I can't make any promises though,” Sandra added.
“It's not only prosecution I'm worried about, it's what he'll do if he finds out I talked. You have to realise I did what I did out of fear, not greed.”
“I think you'd better tell us all about it,” Sandra said. “We want your information and we'll do what we can to keep the source confidential. The safest thing for you is if we catch the ones behind this and put them away.”
“It's a long, complicated story,” Gilchrist started. “Let's sit down and I'll tell you what I can.
“The first I heard of Zennick was less than two weeks ago, when he came to Barlinnie,” Gilchrist started. “The very same day, I received a phone call from my sister, Angela, telling me she'd been contacted by one of Zennick's men. I hadn't come across him before, but the man turned out to be Devosky. Angela's husband is Ukrainian but he's the only one of his family who's been able to come here. Devosky told Angela that he needed a small favour and this turned out to be pressuring me to allow him in to see Zennick.”
“And what was he offering you to give you encouragement?” Sandra asked.
“I wasn't bribed, if that's what you mean. Devosky told Angela if her husband ever wanted to hear from his family again then she had to make me comply. She didn't believe him at first, but when they tried to call her husband's parents and brothers they couldn't get an answer. They managed to speak to cousins, but no one could tell them where the immediate family were or what had become of them. Angela and her husband were frantic. I didn't want to do anything, but I had to help.”
“You should have come to the police,” Sandra said.
“Yeah, and what would you have done? What could you have done? You can't control the foreign gangsters over here, what chance would you have in their own country?”
Sandra went to answer then stopped. She realised he was right. She couldn't offer Gilchrist effective protection against Zennick's gang in Glasgow. How could she claim any influence to protect his brother in law's family in Ukraine? Instead, she decided to pursue a different approach. “How did you communicate with Zennick and Devosky?”
“I've had no contact with Zennick at all. Yes, I knew he was in the prison, but I've not had any direct dealings with him and I haven't spoken to him at any time. My instructions came from Devosky and, once I found out what I was becoming involved in, I kept as far a distance as I reasonably could from Zennick to avoid drawing any suspicion.”
“And what about Devosky?”
“After he'd spoken to Angela, he gave her time to contact me and then called her back to confirm I'd play ball. He then phoned me with instructions. The call came in from an unlisted number; I noted that at the time. He gave me a mobile number to call him back on once I'd put everything in place for him.”
“And did you use it?” Sandra asked.
“Yes, it was someone else who answered though, and passed the phone to him. So, it was either his phone answered by someone else or the phone belonged to someone he was with.”
“You called him only once?” Sandra probed.
“Yes, just the one time.”
“Do you still have the number?”
“Yes, I have it on a pad. I didn't save it on the phone. Wait a minute and I'll get it for you.”
Gilchrist fished about in a drawer then handed over a yellow post-it pad.
Sandra and Peter looked at it. “Very odd; this isn't the number we have for Devosky. It's not the one we have registered to him, the one Zennick used to contact him,” Peter explained.
“Something else we need to know,” Sandra said, then she addressed Gilchrist again. “Can you give us Angela's details so we can check out what you've told us?”
“I really don't want you to do that. She's already worried sick about her in-laws and I don't think she can take any more. These are dangerous people. If they find out I've shopped them, then it's not only my life that's at risk. If Angela learns what I've told you then it could knock her over the edge. Word could get back to Devosky and then we'd all be in danger. And don't think you're safe; he's not afraid of the police. In fact, I wouldn't put anything past him. No, I don't want her to find out.”
“I understand your concern, but it's not down to you to decide,” Sandra replied.
Gilchrist looked dejected, his former confidence had ebbed away, his head bowed and his shoulders slouched.
“I guess I could lose my job over this,” he said.
“I reckon that to be more than likely,” Sandra stated. “You were in a position of trust and you betrayed that trust. I can fully understand your reason, but it doesn't change the facts. It's not a matter we have any say over in any event and it may depend on the way the procurator fiscal choses to proceed.”
“What do you mean? I told you everything I know so I wouldn't be charged,” Gilchrist replied forcefully.
Although understanding his predicament, Sandra had limited sympathy. “You only told us what you know because you were caught. You didn't come to us to volunteer information. Maybe you've forgotten but we already have one body on a mortuary slab and another in the infirmary and this is as a direct result of the assistance you gave Zennick. I don't think you have anything to be proud of. Fair enough, you were forthcoming with information once we cornered you, and for that I'm prepared to put in a word on your behalf, but it's not my decision whether there will be criminal proceedings against you.
“We'll leave it at that for now, but rest assured you will be seeing us again. It's up to you to consider whether to own up to your bosses or to wait and see whether we take action.”
“What should I do now?” Gilchrist pleaded.
“Maybe you should consult your solicitor,” Sandra suggested.
“If you don't already have one, I hear Fergus Hardy has a good reputation,” Peter added, without any attempt to hide a smirk.
* * *
Once settled in the car, Peter and Sandra compared notes.
“It's been a most productive morning,” Sandra said. “We've now a confirmed relationship between Zennick and Devosky with a more tenuous one to Carson and Hardy. We have enough to hold Devosky if we can find him although his immigration problems would give us grounds to detain him anyway. If we could just find the hoodies too and a link to Carson's little swim then that would give us the full picture.”
“You're not asking a lot,” Peter commented.
“Well, why not? You have to be optimistic.”
Chapter 14
Alex spent much of the morning in his office studying witness statements. He had a niggling feeling, believing someth
ing had been overlooked. He read reports over and over hoping to find a pattern or an inconsistency which hadn't already been identified.
He called Sanjay, wanting to discuss the reports and subsequent actions.
“You explained your system to me. Have you now spoken to everyone you wanted to?” Alex asked.
“Everyone identified at the start has been interviewed by at least one of our team.”
“Mmm, all the teachers and school staff?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“I've come across three separate interviews with the writers who mention someone who brought them tea at some point in the morning, a slender, fair-haired woman. I haven't seen anything that shows she'd been identified and interviewed.”
Sanjay's brows furrowed. “I remember something. Yes, Bert made mention. I asked Donny to check it out, but you're right, I haven't seen any follow-up. She was mentioned in other interviews too, you say?”
“Yes, look here,” Alex replied. “You need to keep better control when you set tasks to make sure they're completed, particularly where Donny's concerned. He can be a lazy son-of-a-bitch if you don't stand over his shoulder.”
Sanjay stared at Alex, surprised at his words.
“I'm warning you for your own benefit. I may be overseeing, but you're the senior investigating officer. Your staff are accountable to you and you're responsible for their actions or inactions. If you handle this well, and maybe have a lucky break or two, then you've a chance to make a name for yourself and it could help your career path. On the other hand, if you're sloppy or allow your subordinates to be sloppy, then it's you who'll get hung out to dry.”
Sanjay nodded. “Point taken, thanks for the advice. I guess I need to toughen up my people management skills.”
“Sanjay, you're recognised as very competent; the upper corridors are well-aware of your potential, but you're also a nice guy. You want to be liked and to be one of the boys. You're naturally gentle by nature. There's nothing wrong with being that way, but it doesn't always work when you're in a position of responsibility. It's nice to be liked, but it's far more important to be respected. You need to be listened to and, more importantly, if you give an order, it needs to be followed.”
Sanjay nodded again but looked uncertain.
“I'm not saying you have to shout and scream. That's not how to get results. But you have to make it clear to your team what you expect from them. Give them credit when they produce and let them know in no uncertain terms when they don't. Most staff will respond well, although it's harder with the likes of Donny. He's close to retirement and basically marking time whenever he can get away with it. He's resentful of authority because he never had any success with his own promotion attempts. As a result, you need to keep a close eye on him and stay on his case.”
“Yes, Sir. Good advice. I'll be a lot more careful in future.”
Sanjay returned to his desk and immediately called Donny over to ask what he'd discovered. In reply, he was treated to the start of what promised to be a lengthy monologue with detailed descriptions of anything and everything he might have been doing. Sanjay had to interrupt the presentation on three occasions within the first couple of minutes, insisting that Donny stick to the point and answer the direct question of what he'd done about researching the woman who'd brought tea to the writers' group.
“As I've been trying to tell you, Sarg. I've not had time,” Donny eventually conceded.
“That's not good enough,” Sanjay replied. “If I give you a direct instruction, you do it. You don't question it and you don't do something else first. If there's a particularly good reason why you can't do it, then you tell me, and by that, I mean right away, not days later when I have to chase you up for an answer.”
Donny was peeved but tried to retain a bored expression. “Okay, okay, if that's what you want, then I'll head straight over to the school and try to get an answer.”
“No, you won't, you've wasted enough time already,” Sanjay said forcefully. “The first thing you'll do is collate the best description you can and then get on the blower to the school's office and see if they can tell you who she is and what she was doing there. Once you bring me that answer, then I'll decide what's to happen next.”
Donny moved back to his own desk while Alex looked on from a distance. Although too far away to follow the conversation, Alex was confident using his interpretation of the body language, Sanjay had learned an important lesson and wouldn't allow Donny to take advantage.
Within minutes, Donny returned to advise he'd spoken to various admin staff and there appeared to be a consensus identifying the young lady as Yvonne Kitson, a drama instructor who worked part-time at the school. Further enquiry revealed she had not been scheduled to be at Eastfarm School on the day of the murder.
Sanjay instructed Donny to track her down for her to be interviewed, and then advised Alex of the new development.
“Let me give Brian Phelps a call to see what background I can find,” he suggested.
Brian was taking a class when Alex phoned, but his call was returned within the hour.
“Hi, Alex, how are you? No doubt being a workaholic as usual.”
“You'd better believe it.”
“And what about the beautiful Sandra? How's she? I trust you're not neglecting her,” Brian joked.
“You think I overwork; well, in the last few days, I'd be considered a slacker compared to her. She's been at it nearly flat out since we came back from holiday. Because of staff shortages, she was called back early and given a case which has now turned into three. Although they look to be related, each on their own could be a full-time job. I'm busy enough supervising the incident at your school.”
“Are you able to tell me any more about what's going on?” Brian asked.
“Quite the reverse, I was hoping you'd be able to give me some information. There's nothing I can tell you that you've not already heard or will have read in the papers. We're going through all the motions, interviewing everyone in sight and eliminating possibilities. We have some interesting lines of enquiry but we've yet to come up with anything concrete. The reason I was calling was to take forward one of those lines; I reckoned that you might be able to help.”
“Sure, I'll do anything I can,” Brian offered.
“What can you tell me about Yvonne Kitson?”
“Yvonne Kitson? The name's familiar but I can't place it.”
“I understand she's a drama assistant,” Alex prompted.
“Ah, Vonnie, of course. It didn't ring a bell at first. What can I tell you about her?”
“Anything and everything you have,” Alex answered.
“She's a lovely girl, always willing to help and very popular with the staff and pupils. She's employed directly by the Education Authority, not through the school, so I don't have a personnel file. She's allocated to us for one or two days a week and helps with projects and productions, predominantly with the English department. Why are you asking?”
“It's probably nothing. We're just trying to tie up some loose ends, so we can speak to anyone who was in the school the morning Sheila Armstrong died.”
“There's nothing unusual there. As I said, she's allocated to the school part-time.”
“Maybe so, but she wasn't meant to be with you on Monday. In fact, I've just been handed a note saying her personnel record shows she was scheduled to be at a school in Barrhead but she phoned in saying she was sick.”
“Sounds very odd. Why would she do that?” Brian mused.
“You can see why we'd want the answer to that question.”
Alex could only hear Brian's breathing while he considered. “I can't believe she could be involved. She's just a wee lassie.”
“I'm not claiming she was involved, only that her story doesn't add up. And just for the record, what do you imagine someone involved in a murder does look like? There's no standard image. I wish to God there was because it would make my job a lot easier. No, you can't pick out a mur
derer on the basis of appearance. It can be a child or it can be a geriatric.”
“Sorry, I suppose it was a stupid thing to say. It's just that she always appeared to be gentle and kind; I've never heard her raise her voice, not unless you count her acting on stage.”
“How good an actress is she? How convincing can she be when playing a part?” Alex asked.
“Fair point. I'm in an area that's outside my comfort zone. I suppose it's something you have to deal with all the time. From anything I know of her, I find it difficult to accept she could be capable of a cold-blooded, premeditated murder,” Brian said.
“Maybe you're right and the job's affected me. After what I've had to deal with over the years, I've become dispassionate and callous and I've learned there isn't much that that the average 'normal' human can't do if given the right provocation. Every one of us is capable of the most ruthless, brutal actions if the circumstances are right, or wrong, I suppose. Trust me. To get back to the matter in hand, I need to find out everything you can tell me about Yvonne. Is she married or single? Has she a partner? Who are her friends? Where does she live? etcetera, etcetera. Anything and everything you know.”
“I might not be the best one to ask,” Brian replied. “She isn't working here today. She's scheduled to be at the Academy. From what I've heard, she lives alone and has a flat in Cathcart. She gives the impression of being a bit of a party animal, but as I said, I'm not the best one for gossip. You'd be better speaking to the girls in the office.”
“Okay, thanks, we'll do that,” Alex replied.
“Hey, while we're on the subject of gossip, what can you give me? The staff know we're friends and they keep pumping me for information. They assume you must have told me something. Is there anything you can tell me? Anything I can drop in conversation at coffee break which might improve my street cred? It doesn't have to be anything meaningful, just something I can use.”
Alex thought for a moment, not certain if he should rebuke his friend for asking or whether it would be better to offer him some useless titbit. Finally, he decided to yield. “You can't say you got this from me but the victim had a reputation for cutting down new independent authors. She wrote some really cruel reviews and posted them on the internet. I can't say it's yielded us any relevant suspects but she'd certainly made a lot of enemies. This isn't privileged information because anyone could find it on the web if they knew where to look.”
