Clare Yates raised her hand. ‘She sounds dangerously unstable. I think that you should warn anyone that she’s currently working for. She could be close to a psychotic break, if she suffers any more rejection,’ she said.
‘Agreed. PC Green, can you pop over to see Fergus Campbell after the briefing? Make sure that you get him on his own and share our concerns. Find out if they phoned the referees to verify the references or just took them at face value.’
‘Will do, sir.’
‘Finally, the murder of Aaron Sullivan,’ said Farrell. ‘The pathologist has confirmed that the hair sample taken from the deceased tested negative for consumption of drugs. It appears that he wasn’t a user himself but was moving the drugs around for someone else. It’s becoming increasingly common to use schoolkids for this as it reduces the chance of the drugs being seized in transit, especially in a town the size of Dumfries.
‘I suspect that the person who involved him in this is Barry McLeish, possibly out of some misplaced sense of loyalty to a friend of his deceased brother. It’s imperative that we speak to McLeish.
‘DS McLeod and I are going to Jedburgh first thing tomorrow,’ said Farrell. ‘I’m convinced that Colette Currie’s death in that fire was no accident and that it might be the catalyst that sparked off this whole chain of events.’
Chapter 55
Clare waited behind as everyone else slowly filed out of the room. Farrell gathered up his papers and tried to look calmer than he felt as she approached him.
‘I hear that congratulations are in order,’ he said, striving for a jovial tone.
‘Thank you, Frank, I’m very happy. How have you been?’
He felt like someone had peeled his skin off and she could see right through his bullshit to the miserable depressed loser he had become.
‘Oh, loving life up in Glasgow,’ he fibbed. ‘Unfortunately, these cases are keeping us here longer than anticipated.’
‘It must be difficult being back,’ she said.
‘Life moves on,’ he said, desperately wanting to leave.
‘I’m glad that I was called in. It sounds like I may be of some use. I’m surprised it didn’t occur to you sooner,’ she said, sounding faintly accusatory.
‘I’ll arrange for the witness statements and crime scene photos to be sent across to you,’ he said. ‘If you need anything else let us know. Once you’ve had a chance to consider matters it would be helpful if you could arrange to meet up with DS McLeod to share your insights about our culprit.’
Her eyes narrowed as she absorbed the snub.
Well, what did she expect? thought Farrell angrily. That she was going to waltz in here and have him dance to her tune once more. Not a chance.
At that point, Mhairi popped her head around the door.
‘Sorry to interrupt, but they’ve just brought in Barry McLeish for questioning.’
‘If you’ll excuse me,’ he said to Clare Yates and hurried towards the door.
As soon as they were out of earshot, he turned to Mhairi.
‘Thanks for getting me out of there.’
‘I have far more important things to do with my time than rescue you from women you don’t want to talk to,’ she said, her eyes flashing.
‘What? You mean he’s really here?’
‘They picked him up attempting to hitchhike to Glasgow just outside Moffat. He’s been sleeping rough and stinks to high heaven, apparently.’
‘Has he asked for a lawyer?’
‘No, he says there isn’t one he can trust.’
The sorry specimen of manhood facing them as they walked into the interview room bore no resemblance to the cocky young man they had last clapped eyes on. Barry McLeish looked utterly terrified. He was hyper-vigilant and his eyes darted everywhere. His body was twitchy and restless.
As soon as he clocked Mhairi, he jumped to his feet and backed away from her, shaking.
‘You!’ he shouted. ‘You’re coppers! I should’ve known.’
Farrell and Mhairi glanced at each other. Now their lie had come back to bite them. They should have sent in someone else to conduct this interview. Farrell signalled to Mhairi to take the lead. She was better with people than he was.
‘Barry, I know that was a shock but you can’t blame us for trying to get some background before we headed inside. We’d just fetched down from Glasgow. It was nothing personal. You’re clearly terrified of someone. Let us help you.’ Mhairi’s voice was low and soothing. It seemed to be working.
‘Come on, Barry,’ she continued. ‘Sit back down with us. Let’s see if we can figure this out. How about DI Farrell here organizes some hot tea and buttered toast? You must be starving.’
He slowly walked over and sat behind the table. Farrell nipped out and relayed the request for tea and a few rounds of buttered toast to the custody sergeant who looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel at the very idea.
‘Right, Barry lad, that’s being organized. Are you ready to make a start now?’
Barry nodded. They switched on the recording device and went through the preliminaries.
‘Can you tell us how you and Aaron Sullivan got to know each other?’
‘He was my kid brother’s best pal. After school, Aaron would come round to ours to hang out with George. My brother didn’t like going to his place. His foster mam was always poking her nose in. My mam was more relaxed, like.’
‘So when your brother died, did you start hanging out with Aaron?’ asked Farrell. ‘To remind you of happier times?’
‘I looked out for him. I knew what he was going through.’
‘Was it you who got Aaron involved in supplying drugs?’ asked Mhairi. ‘Maybe you thought you were doing him a favour, giving him a chance to make a bit on the side?’
‘Yes and no,’ he said. ‘Aaron’s foster dad has always been a bit of a pothead but in the last five years or so he’s hit the hard stuff.’
‘Cocaine?’ asked Mhairi.
‘Bang on. He reckons he’s got it under control, but he’s full of shit. Aaron said his mum was raging at him cos he was messing with the adoption. If anyone found out, Aaron would have been shoved back in care.’
‘So why did Aaron choose to get involved in drugs if it was causing his family so much grief?’ asked Farrell.
‘Don’t you get it?’ said Barry, shaking his head. ‘His foster dad’s got a major coke habit. He heard them arguing about money one night. Jack Kerr’s run up thousands of pounds’ worth of debt. The dealer’s been coming on heavy. His foster dad was scared shitless. Saying they’d all be better off if he topped himself. He’d had threats delivered by the dealer’s muscle man. He’d been told the next stage was broken bones. He couldn’t go to the police cos of his job.’
‘So what exactly are you saying?’
‘Aaron’s been trying to pay it off.’
‘Did Aaron’s foster parents know?’
‘No, he said it would destroy them if they found out. He only wanted to help them out and it got him killed.’
Farrell looked at Mhairi, feeling sick to his stomach and seeing the same look reflected back at him. That poor kid.
‘Who killed him?’ asked Farrell.
‘If I tell you, I’ll be next. I’m not kidding around.’
‘We can protect you, place you in protective custody,’ urged Farrell.
‘You’ve no idea who you’re dealing with. They’d slit your throat soon as look at you.’
‘Look, we get that you’re scared,’ said Mhairi. ‘But don’t you want whoever killed your friend behind bars?’
‘Here’s another way to look at it,’ said Farrell, hardening his voice. ‘For all we know you’re the one who killed him and this whole “it wasnae me” number is just an attempt to pin the tail on another donkey.’
‘Why would I kill him? The only thing I did was introduce him to—’
‘To who?’
‘I’m not saying. You pair have done nothing but lie to me from the minute
I met you.’
Farrell and Mhairi looked at each other. He had a point.
‘You were in the Pig and Whistle with Aaron that night,’ said Mhairi. ‘Walk us through what happened.’
‘I’d arranged to meet Aaron outside at 5.30. He was in a bit of a state, said he wanted out. I told him it wasn’t as easy as that. These guys don’t mess around. You’re only done when they say you’re done.’
‘Were you annoyed with him?’ asked Mhairi.
‘A bit. He couldn’t get it into his head that there would be blowback on me.’
‘Because you had made the introduction,’ said Farrell.
‘Only to help him out, cos he wouldn’t stop banging on about his stupid foster dad and his shitty problems.’
‘What happened then?’
‘I told him to forget it. I told him he was in too deep and just to keep doing what he was doing. It was best for everyone.’
‘What was his response?’
‘He said he’d think about it. We had a few drinks and then we left. I thought he was going home. I headed to the Nith Arms to shoot pool with another mate. I was there until closing time. We went back to his place to play some X-Box. I switched on the telly in the morning and saw that minging bird banging on about it on the news.’
‘We’ll need your friend’s name and address,’ said Farrell.
‘John Donnelly, 19 Smith Court, Lincluden.’
‘Why did you go on the run if you had an alibi?’ asked Mhairi.
‘I wasn’t running from you. I was running from him.’
‘Who?’
‘I don’t want to say.’
This was going nowhere. Farrell changed tack.
‘What can you tell me about Aaron’s tattoo?’
‘He didn’t want to get it, but they made him. I’ve got one too. It’s like a brand or something, means they fucking own you.’
‘Where did you get it done?’
‘In the town. That place near the car park. The guy is legit. Aaron just had to take in the art work and some ID.’
‘Okay, Barry. It’s decision time. We need to know who you and Aaron were working for. We can’t help you if you don’t give us a name.’
‘If I do, I’m a dead man. Look what happened to Aaron.’
‘If this guy is as well-connected as you say, wouldn’t he already know you’re here? If you can’t give us a name, we’ll have to let you go. Do you think he’s going to believe you when you say you didn’t give him up?’
Barry chewed on his lip, looking sick to the stomach.
They waited.
‘Fine,’ he said finally. ‘I don’t know whether or not he stabbed Aaron, but he was in the pub that night. That’s why we didn’t hang around there long. Maybe he heard us arguing. Aaron was saying he was going to go over and tell him he wanted out and I was telling him to forget it.’
He paused.
‘Spit it out, Barry,’ said Farrell.
McLeish slumped in his chair.
‘It was Joe Capaldi.’
Chapter 56
Farrell and Mhairi left Barry McLeish devouring his tea and toast, courtesy of a disgruntled custody sergeant. They headed to the canteen and grabbed some coffee and a couple of sandwiches.
‘I think he’s on the level,’ said Mhairi when they were sat down. ‘Barry’s not a killer. He seems genuinely terrified. I was surprised about Joe Capaldi, though. Thanks to Gabriel Ferrante, he’s carved out a decent enough life for himself after prison. Why would he risk all that?’
‘Maybe he didn’t have a choice,’ said Farrell. ‘His former associates might have sought him out and leaned on him. Everyone has their breaking point. I don’t see him being the brains behind the operation, though.’
‘No, me neither,’ said Mhairi. ‘Do you reckon he might have murdered Aaron?’
‘I don’t know. We have to bring him in for questioning, but I doubt we’ll get much out of him.’
‘That poor kid, I can’t believe he was murdered trying to save that piece of shit, Jack Kerr.’
‘We’re going to have to tell him and his wife,’ said Farrell. ‘That’s one conversation I’m not looking forward to having.’
‘The tabloids will be having a feeding frenzy over the murder of Sheriff Granger,’ said Mhairi. ‘I still feel that if we look hard enough there might be a connection to the other murders.’
‘I agree but we have to keep an open mind. The list of potential suspects will be a mile long. There’s all the people he’s banged up for starters.’
‘Not to mention all the lawyers he’s bullied the crap out of or sexually harassed over the years,’ said Mhairi. ‘In fact, if I’d known him longer, I might have been tempted myself.’
‘Right, let’s go pick up Capaldi,’ said Farrell, glancing at his watch. ‘Hopefully, he’ll still be at the office.
As they trudged up the stairs to the tiny first-floor office across from the court, Farrell felt a wave of exhaustion sweeping over him. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep this pace up. Hopefully, Capaldi would provide some answers.
They arrived in reception to find Capaldi behind his desk.
‘Can I help you?’ he glowered.
‘Joe Capaldi, we’re detaining you on suspicion of being involved in the murder of Aaron Sullivan,’ said Farrell. ‘You do not require to say anything but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, flashing them a look of loathing.
At that moment, Gabriel Ferrante stuck his head around the door.
‘DI Farrell, what’s going on? You’re arresting Joe? On what grounds?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say,’ replied Farrell. ‘Mr Capaldi, we have a car waiting downstairs.’
‘Joe, I’ll meet you at the station. Say nothing, and I mean nothing, until I get there,’ said Gabriel Ferrante. ‘I’ll deal with this. It’s obviously a misunderstanding,’ he said, fixing Joe Capaldi with a penetrating gaze.
Capaldi slid his eyes out from underneath his boss’s scrutiny. Ferrante looked worried.
‘Whatever it is, we’ll get this sorted,’ he said. ‘You know I’ve got your back.’
Capaldi broke his silence. ‘Boss, I don’t want you mixed up in this.’
‘Nonsense! Makes life interesting,’ Ferrante said with a twisted grin.
They trudged down the stairs and into the waiting police car. Ferrante locked up behind them then headed to the car park for his own car to follow them up to the station.
Chapter 57
Before questioning Joe Capaldi, Farrell and Mhairi checked back in to the MCA room where Byers, Thomson and Stirling were almost buried under paperwork from the various cases. Each investigation was located on a different wall.
‘At this rate we’re going to need a room shaped like a bloody hexagon,’ said Byers as he attached an updated timeline to Gina Campbell’s wall.
‘We’ve got Joe Capaldi downstairs,’ said Farrell. ‘I’m hoping he might give us something to light the way forward,’ he said. He and Byers had been tiptoeing around each other after the whole blow up over Lind.
Just being in the same room as the man at the moment made anger flare hot and heavy in his chest.
‘Let’s hope so,’ replied Byers, equally circumspect. ‘The Super was in looking for you a few minutes ago. I think he’s been phoning round his old school chums.’
‘Are you and Mhairi still going to Jedburgh tomorrow?’ asked DC Thomson.
‘Planning to,’ said Mhairi. She glanced at her watch. ‘I was going to pop in to the fiscal’s office and ask Peter Swift a few questions about the house,’ she said. ‘It’s too late now. The fiscal’s office will be shut.’
‘I still don’t quite see what you hope to achieve by going up there tomorrow? It strikes me as a bit of a wild goose chase,’ said Byers.
‘Call it a hunch,’ said Farrell. ‘We’re going to visit the police station and speak to the ori
ginal investigating officer then once we’ve scooped up the files we’ll take a look at what’s left of the cottage.’
‘Could someone have been blackmailing Colette’s three friends over the years about what happened that night?’ asked Mhairi.
‘Didn’t someone say that Mario Lombardo is rumoured to have been involved in extortion? Blackmail would be right up his alley,’ said Byers.
‘If that was the case then maybe one of his victims snapped and murdered his daughter as some twisted kind of payback,’ said DC Thomson.
‘I would’ve thought Sheriff Granger himself would be a likely candidate for extortion given his history?’ said Mhairi.
‘Dave, identify everyone who was involved in the case in Jedburgh. We’re missing something. We must be,’ said Farrell.
He arranged to meet Mhairi down in the custody suite in ten minutes then took himself to the Super’s room.
Farrell tapped lightly on the door.
‘Enter,’ came the plummy tones of Crawford Cunningham. Farrell found the Super sitting behind his desk, nursing a glass of water and looking as if he wished it would turn into wine.
‘You wanted to see me, sir.’
‘Yes, sit down, Farrell. I don’t mind admitting I’ve found Sheriff Granger’s murder deeply upsetting. Not so much for the man himself but for what it represents. Total anarchy, the collapse of the old order. A strike at the heart of its institutions.’
‘You think it might be political, sir?’ asked Farrell, that angle not having occurred to him.
‘I honestly have no idea. But an attack against a member of the judiciary could be ideologically motivated. The fact that he was such an unpleasant individual doesn’t help.’
‘Did you find out anything in relation to Sheriff Granger’s schooldays?’ asked Farrell.
‘Yes, I did. Rather depressing, really. I got more than I bargained for there. The name of that secret society was “The Omniscient”. It was very select.’
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