by Zach Abrams
“Thank God,” Alex mouthed.
“So much for my first big case,” Sandra said.
Gently, careful to not press against her wound, Alex held Sandra's face in both hands, kissed her brow and then cradled her head with his shoulder. “You already had it cracked. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get the credit, and anyway, that's the last thing you need to worry yourself with now.”
Sandra closed her eyes for a second. “You're right, there's more important things than work, but it really pisses me off to have done all this work for nothing. Anyhow, I'll be happy in the knowledge Speirs is behind bars.”
“He won't go behind bars if I get to him first. I'll kill the evil wee bastard.”
Sandra pulled back from the caress and looked Alex firmly in the eye. “No you mustn't go near him. We can't give him any cause for complaint. You need to step back. I don't think you should be involved in handling his case, neither should Peter for that matter, nothing that could possibly give his lawyer room to claim he'd been unfairly treated after his attack on me. I don't want there to be any risk of him getting off on a technicality.”
“I suppose you have a point but he's likely to need a new lawyer in any event. I've been told the one who witnessed your attack had near apoplexy. He probably can't be forced to give evidence against his own client, but if it wouldn't have given him professional ethics problems, then he might have wanted to. I've a funny feeling he won't be representing him for very long. But we've no room for complacency. I'm sure Daddy Moneybags will have a replacement arranged before we can blink.”
Before Sandra could comment, a nurse re-entered the booth. “That's us ready to move you. A bed has been allocated on the ward. I'm afraid I'll need to ask you to leave, Sir. We need to get Miss McKinnon prepared. There's no point you waiting either because she's going to need rest. You ought to be able to get in to see her for evening visiting. It's at 7.00pm, but phone in first to make sure it will be okay.”
“Thank you, nurse. Be sure to take good care of her, she's very precious,” Alex requested.
“I only work in A&E, but don't you worry. I know the girls on the ward and she'll get the best treatment available.”
“What're you going to do?” Sandra asked. “Please don't do anything stupid.”
“I try not to make a habit of it. There's no doubt I'd like to strangle the little swine with my bare hands. You needn't concern yourself though, I'll stand well back and not have any direct contact. However, you can rest assured I'll keep a close eye on developments to make absolutely certain he gets what he deserves. I wouldn't mind going after the father as well. After all he's the Dr Frankenstein who's responsible for making young Kevin the monster that he's become. I suspect he'll have plenty of skeletons in his closet and I'm sure it won't be too difficult to release a few. However, before all of that, I need to find out how Sanjay's got on. When I had to leave, I sent Mary in to join him to finish off Kitson's interview.”
“Please be careful,” Sandra said. Touching her abdomen, she continued, “I'm holding onto this baby full term and I want his father to be fit and well for his arrival.”
Alex squeezed her hand and kissed her brow again. “I'll be careful and I'll be back this evening.”
Alex found Peter sitting exactly where he'd left him. He filled him in on Sandra's condition and advised him to stay clear of Speirs for the reasons he and Sandra had discussed, adding he'd clear it with his superiors. They both left to return to work, although Alex sat outside for a long time before he felt ready to go back.
Entering the office, he was besieged by colleagues enquiring about Sandra's welfare and only after they were satisfied by his answers did they deluge him with congratulations about her pregnancy, the news having already spread through the inter-office grapevine.
“Would you like to buy a second-hand pram?” Sanjay offered, grinning. “As new condition, one careful driver, only three previous passengers.”
“I'd better not,” Alex replied. “You'll probably need it yourself for number four.”
“I certainly hope not. I don't think I could cope with any more. Maybe I should get the snip just in case.”
“It makes my eyes water just thinking about it,” Alex chuckled. “Let's go back to your desk and you can bring me up to date on the interviews. No, better still, my office.”
Sanjay collected his papers and disks on the way and sat down facing Alex, a broad smile covering his face. “I'm sure you'll be happy with this, Boss. Would you like to hear the recordings now?”
“I'll get to them, but first give me a run down. Did you get a confession? You certainly seem happy enough.”
“Not quite, but it's close to the next best thing. The last you heard, we considered both Armstrong and Kitson as suspects. We'd spoken to both. They both denied any involvement and they both claimed the other was innocent too.”
“Yeah, so where are we now.”
“They're both still protesting innocence but neither one is quite as supportive of the other.”
“Tell me more,” Alex pushed.
“It started with Kitson. We challenged her about her lying. The old ground, lying to the education authority, not telling Graeme she'd be at the school. Claiming she hadn't been to the house before. We emphasised she'd been caught out and we couldn't trust a word she said. We knew she'd been to the house, we had the bracelet as evidence. We knew she wanted Graeme for herself but he would never have left Sheila. The only way she thought she'd get Graeme would be to get rid of Sheila. We knew she had access to the murder weapon through the drama group and she was at the murder scene to carry out the switch. Added to which, she'd left the school before the police arrived and she hadn't been forthcoming with any information. She broke down, protested she didn't do it. She more or less admitted all we'd said was true. Well, she could hardly deny it. She admitted she'd had conversations with Graeme about leaving Sheila and she realised he'd never do it. They'd also discussed how good it would be if Sheila wasn't about, but claimed they'd never discussed doing anything to get rid of her. I talked to her about the bracelet. I said if it was true she'd lost it months ago, then it couldn't possibly have lain there undiscovered all this time. The only explanation would be if someone had deliberately left it for us to find and the only candidate for doing that would be Graeme, to set her up and cover for himself. I added comments suggesting maybe he wanted his freedom from Sheila but not because he wanted to be with her. I reinforced it by saying he'd refused to talk to her since the killing and was using her as the scapegoat.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing at first, she sat for quite some time taking it in. I didn't break the silence, let her dwell on her predicament. Her eyes filled up but she didn't cry, I'll give her that. There were no hysterics. Then she whispered she couldn't believe it, she thought he loved her. How could he do it? She fell short of a downright accusation, but not by much.”
“Well done, Sanjay. How did you get on with him?”
“A similar story. We ran through all the evidence, about everything he had to gain by Sheila's death, both financial and personal. He stayed resolute and supportive of Kitson until we asked why she wouldn't have told him she was going to the school. He was also unaware she'd been to his house. I laid it on thick about how she was looking to take Sheila's place. And he became a bit less certain. Even more so when I mentioned she'd spent time alone with Sheila at the house, that was after I confirmed Kitson's claim he'd never taken her there. I didn't say when it had been as we only had her word for it anyway. When I mentioned the bracelet was found in the bedroom, he became distinctly agitated. When I hinted that Kitson had thought he was capable of killing Sheila, he replied certainly no more than her. He inferred she had a cold calculating streak. Maybe not as much as Sheila, but she was capable and he didn't defend her when I suggested that she could have set up the whole thing. We're not there yet, but we're pretty damn close.
“What do you want us to do now?” Sanjay
asked.
“They're both accomplished liars. Charge them both and keep them remanded in custody. It's not improbable they're both in it together, so let's not lose sight of the alternatives. We'll see who breaks first.”
“There are a couple of other things, nothing startling but I'll fill you in for completeness.
“Your pal Brian Phelps called to say he hadn't managed to find out anything else yet but he'd keep trying. Then there was another call from someone who wouldn't give a proper name but said you'd understand what he meant if I said Shuggie called.”
“Did he tell you anything or was I to get back to him?” Alex asked.
“Two things he said, firstly the man Richard you asked about had been doing some business with the east. I asked him to explain but that was all he'd say about it, to me at least. It sounded like some sort of code. He could have been talking about Edinburgh or China for all I could tell.
“Then he said something about there being another guy you'd 'not' spoken about, that's how he worded it and I didn't know what he meant.”
“I've a fair idea what he was on about. What about him?” Alex remembered Shuggie refused to recognise Devosky by name.
“He said the word was he'd gone back to Moscow for keeps. Does that make any sense?”
“It does. It was someone Sandra was looking for. I'd rather we'd got hold of him but it's the next best thing. I can get back to Shuggie later to see if he's got any more details. Anything else?”
“We've checked all the phone records. Not surprisingly, there's a lot between Kitson and Armstrong, and in particular, there was a forty-five-minute call on Sunday evening at about five. At that time, she either hadn't decided to go to Eastfarm in the morning or else she wasn't telling him.”
“Or else they're both lying,” Alex added.
“Yeah, that's possible. Maybe they're working on the basis that if we can't ascertain which one did it, then we can't go after either,” Sanjay responded. “There hasn't been any completed calls between them since Sunday. Kitson's dialled several times but it never connected. Which supports what she's claimed. Then looking at older records, there'd been calls back and forward between Sheila Armstrong and Kitson, but nothing in the last three months. Well, almost nothing. Sheila phoned her last Thursday but the call only lasted about twenty seconds.”
“What did Kitson say about it?” Alex asked.
“She didn't. She had no recollection of it whatsoever. Didn't budge even when I told her we could prove the call.”
“Strange, might it have been Graeme calling and using Sheila's phone?” Alex asked.
“I hadn't considered that. Do you think he could have been trying implicate her with all these little clues? The phone calls and the bracelet, realising she'd have no reasonable answer. It would have been incredibly devious, but we've know from the start whoever was responsible went in for intricate planning and was a bit theatrical. It fits with Armstrong being a stage manager.”
“Check when the call was made and where they each claimed to be at the time,” Alex instructed.
“One of the other numbers which was on Sheila's list was a young lad, a pupil at Eastfarm, goes by the name of Kevin Speirs. I've no idea what the connection might be, but I heard you mention the name recently and thought you'd want to be told.”
“Thanks, Sanjay, good work. Speirs was the little thug who put Sandra in hospital. He was her prime suspect for killing Carson.”
“Damn, I should have found out more. I was so immersed in this case. I heard what had happened to Sandra, but didn't know who'd done it so I didn't make the connection. What on earth can he have to do with Sheila Armstrong?”
“That's what I aim to find out. Sandra told me he was at Eastfarm and that he was interested in writing. That may have led to his path crossing with Sheila and the writing group, but at the moment I don't know any more.
“You press ahead with your enquiries. I'm going to have a word with the Super to see what's happening with Sandra's cases while she's laid up.”
Sanjay left and Alex was informed Inspector Cairns, newly returned having recovered sufficiently from his alleged back injury, had been assigned Sandra's caseload. Knowing Cairns reputation for laziness and sloppy work, it was with some trepidation he called to ask what was happening.
True to form, Cairns was preparing to rely on the work Sandra had already completed and claim the credit for closing down the cases with the minimum of effort. He was ready to level charges on the McGuire brothers for the assault on Hardy, but was prepared to go easy on them if they would stand as witnesses against Speirs for his murder of Carson. He had arrested and charged Speirs for injuring Sandra, and based on this detention, he felt certain the McGuires would cooperate.
“What about Devosky and Zennick?” Alex asked.
“Who?” Cairns replied.
“Have you bothered to read the file or speak to Peter Lister?” Alex challenged.
“I only took over this morning, I've not had a chance to catch up properly yet. Now, with respect, I reckon I've done bloody well so far. Why, what is it to you? It's not your case, so it's a courtesy I'm even discussing it with you, Sir.” The last word was laboured and reluctant and the 'with respect' had been said purposefully, clearly being ironic.
If Alex had the ability to reach through the phone line, he'd have throttled Cairns on the spot. Instead, he swallowed the profusion of curses on the tip of his tongue and spoke slowly and firmly using his most intimidating techniques normally reserved for dangerous suspects.
“Now, Mr Cairns, these may not be my cases, but it appears I know considerably more about them than you do and you're supposed to be in charge. Unless you want to make an enemy of me, you will do exactly as I say; and I warn you, I'm the last person you want to make an enemy of. Check my record if you don't believe me. I can assure you the problems you've been having with your back will pale into insignificance by comparison to the trouble you'd be inviting. Now, don't interrupt and listen carefully because I will say this only once. And don't smirk, this isn't 'Allo, Allo.' There is nothing I'm going to say that you'll find remotely amusing. When we finish this call, you will read all the files thoroughly and you'll call in Peter Lister to help you have a full understanding of the cases you've been allocated. Once you are properly in the picture, you will do everything in your power to hunt down Devosky and establish whatever links you can to Zennick. I also want you to see what involvement either of them have had with Richard Speirs, he's young Kevin's father. Once you've done all of that, you can assess who can be charged and what with. In your reports, you will give full credit for the sterling work done by DI McKinnon and DC Lister. Is that understood?”
“Y-y-yes, Sir,” Cairns stammered.
“And one more thing. I want you to find out from Speirs what connection he had with my murder victim, Sheila Armstrong. Speirs goes to Eastfarm School, the one where Armstrong died. We have evidence they spoke on the phone last week and I want to know what it was about. Speirs has an interest in writing, so it could be quite innocent, but it seems too much of a coincidence to me and I want to know for sure, and quickly. Have you got that?”
Alex didn't wait for the answer; the affirmation was hardly out of Cairns mouth by the time the phone slammed back on its cradle. He sat breathing heavily for several seconds allowing his temper and his blood pressure to resume normal levels.
Chapter 22
Never comfortable speaking to a psychologist, Alex sat on the edge of his chair. Although he knew he was being ridiculous, he always felt he was the one being psychoanalysed. He sat wondering if it stemmed from some deep-seated insecurity dating back to his childhood, then chided himself for reading too much Freud and trying to self-diagnose. Better to leave it to the professionals, he concluded.
Alex spent some considerable time describing the case then sat back hoping for
an educated assessment.
The clinician asked further probing questions and then surmised either Kitson
or Armstrong could be responsible for organising Sheila's death. Either ones' profile could be made to fit and he couldn't give Alex an answer based on a desktop analysis. Besides anything else, Alex's views and interpretations could skew the evidence to suit his own prejudices. On a more positive note, he thought it most unlikely for them to have been working in concert for such a contrived crime and he did offer to come and speak to both suspects in order to give a better-informed opinion.
His assessment of Sheila's condition was hardly more helpful. He cited cases where brain damage or injury had been shown to coincide with changes in a person's temperament or moral code but gave examples where an apparent descent had occurred without cause and, of course, there were countless occurrences of people incurring such damage with no character changes being noted.
In the end, Alex left the consultation hardly any better informed than when he started.
Checking his watch, he realised it was rapidly approaching visiting time at the Southern General Infirmary and called ahead to check on Sandra's condition. He was informed she'd been taken to the maternity unit and he was put through to the ward. They, in turn, confirmed they were pleased with her progress but she still required a lot of rest. He would be permitted to visit, but only for ten minutes.
When Alex stopped to refuel his car, he picked up a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates then raced onwards to the hospital. After a short while, he found a space to illegally abandon his vehicle showing a police on duty sign.
Approaching her bedside, he winced seeing her blackened face. Otherwise, she appeared well and looked rested.
“Hello, Love. Are they taking good care of you?” he asked, depositing his gifts, caressing her undamaged cheek and holding her hand.
“The staff are marvellous. They won't let me do a thing. I've been told I need to do nothing for a while so I'll get stronger for junior's sake, but I feel such a fake lying here doing nothing. What's been happening in my absence?”
