By All Means (Fiske and MacNee Mysteries Book 2)

by Alan Alexander

  Esslemont and Fiske were sitting rather uncomfortably side by side behind Esslemont's desk. Fleming took the chair that had been positioned on the other side. He was in uniform and he had removed his cap and tucked it under his arm as he entered the room. He now placed it on the desk in front of him.

  'Inspector Fleming, I have asked DCI Fiske to take notes. I would also like your consent to record our discussion.' Fleming nodded.

  'We have reason to believe, Inspector, that you have been communicating confidential information, acquired in the course of your duties here, to people not authorised to have it.'

  Vanessa caught a momentary look of concern cross Fleming's face, but he recovered quickly.

  'I have no idea what you're talking about, sir. I take my duties, and my oath as a constable, very seriously, and there is no way that I would act inconsistently with that.'

  'Pompous bastard!', Vanessa thought, but said nothing.

  'DCI Fiske, please tell Inspector Fleming what you told me yesterday.'

  Vanessa described the information that had been leaked and the fact that Fleming had known about all of it. She passed to him a copy of the analysis she had given Esslemont.

  Fleming tried a laugh, but it was unconvincing. 'Proves nothing, Chief Inspector. I doubt if that's something you'd rely on in court.'

  Vanessa decided not to respond to his reference to the caution given in England before an arrest. He was being snide about her training and experience in the Met.

  'Nice try, Inspector, but there's more. Yesterday, the DCS asked the Chief to sanction an approach to the counter-terrorism unit to discuss a possible link to the murders of Harvey Jamieson and Peter Keller. Only four people knew about the approach - until the G & T broke the story - the Chief, the DCS, myself, and you.'

  Fleming shifted uncomfortably. 'Journalists don't reveal their sources. They'd rather go to prison. It could just be speculation.'

  'Come on, Richard!' Esslemont sounded irritated. 'Don't treat us as idiots. We know you did it. We now need to know how and why.'

  Fleming stayed silent.

  Vanessa leaned forward, and looked intently at Fleming. 'Can you explain how the Chief had a call last evening, before the G & T story went up on their website, from a very senior officer in another force, asking him to confirm or deny that we were involving counter-terrorism?'

  Fleming's face became suddenly pallid. He reached for a glass of water, took a sip, and composed himself.

  'I don't think I want to say any more until I take advice, sir.'

  'All right, Inspector. I have to inform you that you are now suspended from duty, with immediate effect. DCI Fiske will go with you to your office, so that you can collect any personal items, and then conduct you out of the building. We'll need to speak to you again very soon.'

  *

  In Glasgow, DC Aisha Gajani and DS Sara Hamilton were on a crash course on good old-fashioned detective work. They had begun by contacting the collators in every major police station in the city to ask if anything was known about Mathieson or MacIlwraith. They were looking for the kind of intelligence that may turn out to be useful but that can’t be recorded on official databases. They drew a complete blank. As far as they could tell, neither man had come up on anybody’s radar. Nor did they get anything by floating the name of Thomas Nuttall. They would need to interrogate the semi-public databases and Aisha knew, from looking for Nuttall in the Aberdeen electoral register, that that could be a laborious and time consuming task.

  Aisha and Sara were sitting drinking coffee at the desk they shared in Govan Police Station. They had their working files open in front of them with the enhanced CCTV pictures of their suspects on top of the other notes they were accumulating before inputting them to the case log in Aberdeen. One of the local CID officers walked past them, stopped, and came back. He pointed to the picture of MacIIwraith.

  ‘I think I know him. I was at Glasgow Uni with him. Didn’t know him well, but he was a bit of a firebrand, always involved in demos. I don’t think he even finished his degree. Too busy campaigning for Scottish independence, or Scotland’s freedom, as he put it.’

  Sara and Aisha looked at each other and then at their new colleague. Sara thought she should double-check his recollection before going any further.

  ‘I don’t suppose you remember his name, do you…? Sorry, I don’t know your name.’

  ‘Cameron Ritchie. Everybody calls me Cam. I’m a DC with the drugs squad. If you’re quite young and you’ve got a degree, they put you on drugs. I wonder why.’

  Sara and Aisha smiled and Sara looked hard at the picture of MacIlwraith to remind Cam of her question.

  ‘Aye, I do. MacIlwraith, Andy MacIlwraith.’

  ‘Would he be about your age, thirty or so?’

  ‘Twenty-nine, but I’ve had a hard life.’ He smiled. It was a nice smile, Aisha thought.

  She was taking notes, but she looked up and asked, ‘Do you have any idea where he lives? It’s not a very common name, but if we can avoid the usual trawl through Google, electoral roll and so on, it wouldn’t half speed things up.’

  ‘I don’t. But I think he came from somewhere outside Glasgow, maybe Ayrshire or Lanarkshire.’

  ‘Thanks’. She paused and smiled. ‘Cam. I’m Aisha and this is Sara.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Let me know how it goes. Maybe we could have a drink some time, Aisha.’

  ‘That would be nice.’

  Cam Ritchie walked away, Aisha blushed slightly, and Sara said, ‘I think you just pulled, girl.’

  *

  Janet MacNee got in from work most days around half past five. On Thursday, she noticed, even as Emma and Cat were jumping all over her, that Shelley Mehring was pre-occupied, her usual enthusiasm and bounce almost totally absent. Janet put it down to some problem with her thesis and got on with preparing the girls’ tea.

  Colin got home just as Shelley finished reading the girls a story and she came into the living room where he and Janet were having a glass of wine before supper. Janet held the bottle up to ask Shelley if she wanted a glass. Shelley shook her head and said, ‘No. Thanks. There’s something I need to talk to you about.’

  Colin and Janet looked at each other anxiously.

  ‘You’re not thinking of leaving us, Shelley, are you?’ Janet said.

  ‘No. Nothing like that. I’m really enjoying the job and the girls are lovely.’

  ‘What then?’

  Shelley looked very worried. ‘You know that before I came to you, I was working as an intern for a man called Frank Mancuso at Last Cairngorm.’

  Colin grinned. ‘Yes, and he gave you the kind of reference that glows in the dark.’

  Shelley nodded and smiled weakly. ‘Well, he called me on Tuesday and offered me money to tell him anything I heard you talking about that might affect Last, especially the investigation into the explosion. He also mentioned the two murders. When I said no, he threatened me.’

  Colin sat forward, and felt a restraining hand on his arm. ‘How, Shelley? How did he threaten you?’

  She was close to tears. ‘He said that if I didn’t do as he asked he would tell the university that I had falsified the Last data that I’m using in my dissertation, and make sure that my PhD registration was cancelled so that I wouldn’t get my doctorate.’

  ‘When did he say that?’

  ‘He called me again today, while the girls were at school. I said I would think about it, but the more I did, the more I was convinced that I should talk to you about it.’

  Shelley was sitting on the sofa opposite the MacNees. Janet got up and sat beside her, putting an arm round her shoulders. ‘You did the right thing, Shelley. Thank you.’

  ‘Yes, absolutely. Thank you, Shelley. You know I’m going to have to follow this up, though? I’ll make sure this doesn’t come back on you. If Mancuso approaches the University, which he won’t, I’ll speak to them on your behalf. Your job’s safe, and so is your degree.’

  ‘There�
�s something else. When you offered me the job, I said that I would work for Mr Mancuso until the end of the week, so as not to leave him in the lurch. I was really surprised when he said it would be best if I started here right away. I think I know why now.’

  ‘If he contacts you again, let me know right away,’ Colin said. ‘Get me on my mobile, and if I don’t answer, send a text.’

  *

  DCI Fiske spent the second half of Thursday afternoon in Fiona Marchmont’s office working on the brief to the Foreign Office for onward transmission to the legal attaché in Washington.

  ‘We need to make it very clear,’ she told Fiona, ‘that the Hedelco and Ebright lines of enquiry are not the only ones we are following. Details of our request will be passed to Scottish ministers and, given the First Minister’s concern that we should limit ourselves to the “purely criminal” aspects of the murder cases, we need to show that other lines are being pursued just as vigorously.’

  Fiona agreed. ‘Do you think it would be wise to say that, in the event that your enquiries lead to a resolution of the murder cases, you will immediately let the FO know, so that the US initiative can be put on hold?’

  ‘Don’t see why not. Shows willing and it wouldn’t prevent us from resuming pursuit of the emails if we need to.’

  ‘I’ll email a draft to you before I leave today. If you’re happy with it, I’ll get it to St Clair, with a copy to Gavin Aikman, tomorrow morning. Now, what was that about constructing a timeline? Is it something to do with Richard Fleming being suspended.’

  ‘Got it in one! We’re almost certain that Fleming has been leaking information. Remember that story that appeared in the G & T about our visit to the Foreign Office. There were other leaks and Esslemont and I did a bit of what might be called “entrapment” and we think we’ve got him. He’s taking legal advice’.

  ‘But why? Fleming is an arrogant little shit, but he was clearly on the fast track to a command rank. Why would he jeopardise that?’

  ‘That’s what we need to know. That, and how he was passing on the information. We know it was getting to places other than the G & T.’

  ‘Was this connected to Carey’s sudden decision to assist?’

  ‘Very probably, but I never look a gift horse in the mouth.’

  *

  Colin MacNee phoned Vanessa Fiske just as she and Neil were settling down for a relaxing night in. They had ordered a Thai take-away and Neil had borrowed a box set of a Danish crime serial for Vanessa to pick holes in.

  ‘I’m really sorry to disturb your evening, boss, especially after the week you’ve had, but I need to see you. Can I come round for half an hour?’

  ‘What’s this about, Colin?’

  ‘I’d rather tell you face to face, and I’d like to bring Shelley Mehring, our au pair with me.’

  ‘Didn’t she work at Last before you took her on?’

  ‘Yes, she did.’

  *

  Paul MacIver had advised the First Minister that there was no point in her making another statement in Parliament that day. This meant that the first opportunity would be the following Tuesday. By then, he hoped, things would have moved on to the point where it might be possible to make some real political capital out of the various investigations underway in Aberdeen and beyond.

  For now, a press statement setting out how the Justice Secretary was keeping abreast of the enquiries would be enough. MacIver was just a little disappointed that the Foreign Office – or “the Westminster Government”, as he preferred to say – had not been more obstructive. He had a slight feeling that things were not entirely under control. Further diversionary tactics might be necessary over the weekend.

  *

  As soon as she heard what Shelley Mehring had to say, Vanessa decided that the 0830 hrs team meeting would need to be postponed until the early afternoon. She and Esslemont had arranged their next meeting with Richard Fleming for eleven o’clock on Friday morning and in the normal course of events that would have followed the team meeting.

  But it was urgent that she and Colin speak to Mancuso, because she thought it very unlikely that there was no connection between Mancuso’s attempt to get an inside track on the investigations and Fleming’s activities. Shelley had told them that Mancuso usually got to his office at about 0830 hrs. They would be waiting for him when he arrived.

  Vanessa was unaware of another benefit of having the team meeting in the afternoon: it gave Sara Hamilton and Aisha Gajani a few more hours to follow up on the lead they had on MacIlwraith. They would be joining the meeting by video link. Sara expected to be on a train back to Aberdeen for the weekend by five o’clock. Aisha had decided to stay in Glasgow, ostensibly to see her family, but mainly so that she could meet Cam Ritchie in a bar in the Merchant City.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The Last Cairngorm complex, twenty miles west of Aberdeen, was still a crime scene. Four days after the explosion, officers and specialist scene of crime investigators were searching the ruins of the indoor ski slope. Their search had been delayed until Wednesday morning as they waited for the Fire and Rescue Service to declare the site secure and the collapsed building safe to enter. DI Colin MacNee drove DCI Vanessa Fiske up to the main gate just before eight o'clock on Friday morning. It was a horrible morning, with driving rain, and the spectacular beauty of the Cairngorms invisible through the mist. Vanessa was feeling rotten. She had had no breakfast, convinced that she wouldn't have been able to keep it down, especially as Colin drove the twists and turns of the Deeside road. She sipped from a bottle of fizzy water. She hadn't mentioned to Colin that she had a sick bag stuffed into her handbag.

  One side of the double gate was open, with entry barred by a line of three traffic cones. As Colin drew up, a security guard came out of a small granite gatehouse. Before the guard could say anything, Colin brought his window down and held up his warrant card.

  'Detective Inspector Colin MacNee, North East Constabulary. This is Detective Chief Inspector Vanessa Fiske. We're here to see Mr Mancuso.'

  'He's no' here yet.' The guard had a broad Aberdeenshire accent that reminded Colin of his father.

  'We'll wait. Where's his office?'

  The guard pointed to a one storey building about twenty-five metres into the site. 'That's the security control block. The boss has an office in there. He's generally here before quarter past.'

  Colin thanked him and he removed the cones to let the car through. He parked at the far end of the building, having noticed, as they passed, a parking space "Reserved for F Mancuso". They would be able to see him as he drove in.

  'Mr Mancuso, can we have a word?' Vanessa spoke as she and her colleague approached Mancuso, both holding up their warrant cards. 'DCI Fiske, and this DI MacNee. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?'

  Mancuso looked apprehensive but tried to bluster. 'I'm pretty damn busy here, for reasons you know about, so I hope this won’t take long.'

  Colin MacNee was unimpressed. 'It'll take as long as it takes, sir. Now where can we talk?'

  They followed Mancuso into the building and through to his office, which was on a corner, near where Colin had parked, with a view of the whole complex.

  Mancuso poured himself a coffee and offered cups to the detectives. Colin said, 'Black, please, no sugar', and Vanessa said she would stick to water.

  'So, what's this about?'

  'It's about you putting pressure on Shelley Mehring to tell you what she hears in the course of her work for my colleague and his wife...'

  'I've no idea what...'

  'For Christ's sake.' Colin was angry, but he was trying to keep it in check. 'Spare us the injured innocence. There's a wide choice of things we can charge you with, and we may still choose one, but what we're really interested in is why you wanted Shelley to spy on me.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about.'

  'Look', Vanessa took a sip of her water and belched discreetly, 'I've got two murders to solve, and I don't have time for you to
fuck me about. So just tell me what you hoped to learn, and why.'

  Mancuso mumbled inaudibly.

  'Didn't catch that.'

  'It wasn't for me.'

  *

  DC Aisha Gajani was already at the desk she was sharing with DS Sara Hamilton, sipping from a large beaker of coffee, and looking very pleased with herself.

  'I've found something very interesting about MacIlwraith and I've done it without having to access any of these.' She was looking at Sara's list of the databases they might have to interrogate. 'We may still need them to find him and, because of what I've got, it may be even more urgent that we do. Come and have a look at this.'