Designer Crime

by Allen Whitehead

  'I'll take her out in the morning. You're looking a bit tired, Dad. I think you should get your head down now. We'll have a good long chat tomorrow.'

  * * *

  Burness was a small and scattered community. Everyone knew what had happened to Bren, and accepted that it was natural for Joe to be taken in by his grandparents. The little boy continued to call them Granny and Grandad until one day at the end of the summer term. To celebrate the finish of the school year, the teachers took the older children on a trip to Inverness and, on a separate day, the younger ones on the ferry to Orkney. Many of the parents went on the minibus to John O'Groats to wave them off, and Jim and Maggie went along with Joe. As the ferry slowly began to pull away from the pier, all the children began waving and calling out good-bye to their parents.

  Suddenly Joe stepped up to the rail. 'Bye, Mum ... Bye, Dad!' he shouted, and from that day, he never called them anything else. They had become his “adopted parents”.

  * * *

  In Edinburgh, the entry phone rang in Madalina's attic bed-sitting room. She was sitting on the bed with Ana. They had been painting each others fingernails.

  When she lifted the handset a voice said, 'It's me, Mark. I'm doing this weeks collection for my Da'.'

  'You better come on up,' she replied, recognizing his gruff voice.

  Mark, the son of Frank Mannion, was a little out of breath when he reached the door. Madalina was waiting for him, but he pushed straight past her and entered the room.

  'Oh, you'se here as well,' he said on seeing Ana. 'Good – that'll save me a trip to your's.'

  He was a tall, skinny youth of around eighteen, with a sparse growth of beard that didn't completely hide the scars caused by his severe acne. He pulled a notebook from his pocket and thumbed through it.

  'Last week, Maddie, you'se was six thousand, five hundred so now it's gone up to eight,one two five.' He turned several more pages then looked at Ana. 'You'se owing even more than her. It was seven thousand eight hundred but now it's gone to nine, seven fifty. How much you gonna pay off this week, the pair o' ye?'

  Madalina walked over to a coat hanging on the rail and took a thick bundle of notes from one of the pockets.

  'All of it! … It's all there – there's seventeen thousand, eight hundred and seventy five pounds – the whole lot. Now we don't owe nothing.'

  Mark Mannion's jaw dropped and he looked open-mouthed at the wad being handed to him. He took it and began removing the elastic band.

  'You can count it if you like. It's all there. I counted it myself, twice.'

  'Shitting hell! …. You lasses must have worked your fucking arses off last week!'

  'It doesn't matter how we got it. You've got your money. When do we get our passports back?'

  'Oh … I don't know aboot tha'. You'll have to talk to my da'. I'll just gi' him the money … but I'll tell him what you said.'

  'We want them back, now. Is your father at the yard?'

  'Not this morning. He's off to Falkirk playing golf. He'll be there this afternoon, though.'

  'Okay, we'll go and see him then.'

  Mark nodded and slowly walked to the door, shaking his head in disbelief. 'I'll see you'se around, then.'

  As the door closed behind him, and they heard his heavy footsteps going down the stairs, the two excited young women grabbed each other and hugged in delight.

  * * *

  Joe woke up to familiar sounds and smells. He was in the room that he'd grown up in, at the back of the cottage, a small extension with a tiny window overlooking the Pentland Firth and the cliffs of Hoy. He jumped out of bed and dressed quickly, listening to the sheep in the fields that extended down to the cliff-top. There had been a sharp frost and the thin covering of snow glistened in the light cast from the window. It was still dark, for the December dawn arrives late on the north coast of Scotland. Although it was cold in the unheated bedroom, when he went through to the small living room, he found a fire in the hearth was already beginning to burn brightly.

  'Morning, Mum, has he woken up, at all?'

  'Morning, son,' Maggie said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. 'Aye, he's awake, all right, and he's even fancying a bowl of porridge! He couldn't take a bite of anything, yesterday.'

  'That sounds good. I was a bit worried that I might have kept him awake longer than I should, last night.'

  'No, lad. After Samantha phoned, he was looking forward 'til you coming. How is she, by the way. Is she keeping well?'

  'Sam's great, Mum. She's really looking forward to the baby coming now, but she's had a good pregnancy.'

  'Well, she could do with taking thing's easy now, for the next few weeks. When I had Chean, I could hardly get off the chair to cook a meal as it got near the end.'

  Although he had grown up listening to the Caithness dialect, the soft 'ch' that Maggie and Jim used for J and G had now begun to sound unfamiliar in Joe's ears.

  'The peats are burning well. Is Jock still filling your baskets for you?'

  'Aye, lad. Chock comes over and fills all o' my creels. He brings some peats in and lights my fire every morning, even afore he lights his own. He's a good lad.' she replied.

  Jock Shearer was their nearest neighbour. His croft house was across the road, around fifty metres away, and although he was now in his early fifties – to Maggie he was still a “lad”.

  'You'll take some porridge, will you, son?'

  'Of course I will. I'll just pop through and have a word with Dad, first, though.'

  He went into the bedroom and found Jim sitting up in bed, wearing a thick hand-knitted sweater.

  'Hello, lad. I feel bad that they've dragged you all this way, chust 'cause I took a turn.'

  'It's nice to be back, Dad, and it's great to find you looking well. I was thinking that it could have been much worse.'

  'Aye, I suppose it could, but then Maggie and me – we're not getting any younger. We won't be around forever.'

  'No, but we want you both to see and hold our baby when it's born.'

  'Aye, we all want that. Maggie and me are looking forward to seeing you with your first bairn. Is Sam keeping well?'

  'Yeah, She's pretty good. I'm afraid we won't be coming up for the New Year, though. It'll be too far for her to travel so close to the baby coming – especially with the weather being so changeable.'

  'We weren't expecting you this year, lad. You just come up in the spring, and bring Sam and the wee one with ye. I'll open a bottle and we'll all drink it's health together then.'

  * * *

  After breakfast, Joe opened the kennel near the front door.

  'Hi, Dot. Want to come for a walk?'

  The old collie wriggled with delight, licked his hand, and left the warm hollow of her straw bed to join him. His footsteps crunched in the frost, as the sky brightened. They headed down through the fields to the top of the cliffs. Far below, waves crashed against the dark rocks, where a pair of shags stood drying their wings while other gulls screamed, circling over their heads. He wandered along the headland and stopped above the remains of the old harbour.

  Joe thought of a story, told by Jim, of a time during the cold war between East and West when the people of Burness got up one morning, to find a Russian submarine just outside the small natural harbour. It appeared to have got into trouble in the deep waters of the Pentland Firth, and had surfaced to try and resolve some engine problem. The event caused great amusement among the locals and some consternation, leading to a minor diplomatic incident, because the British authorities had not been aware of it's presence. Eventually a destroyer from the British navy was dispatched to escort the submarine back to international waters.

  Today, there was only George Geddes on the slipway, loading lobster pots into his open boat. He stopped when he noticed Joe above him.

  'Morning Joe,' he shouted. 'How's Jim? I heard you were coming back home.'

  'He's better than I was expecting. Looks as if he could make a full recovery – as long as we can stop
him doing too much.'

  'Och, I'm pleased to hear that. Maggie was pretty shocked when he keeled over.'

  'Well, I'm planning on sticking around for a few days to keep and eye on him. So, I'll see you around, George. Come on, Dot.'

  * * *

  Frank Mannion got out of his Range Rover, walked across the wide area of tarmac and opened the door to his office. It was inside a stone-built warehouse – an area partitioned off to one side, leaving the main floorspace clear for trucks to enter when they required maintenance.

  The haulage business had been started by his father when he returned from the Second World War. The young Frank, however, had shown little interest in the business when he left school. He was a great disappointment to his father, who resented all the time he spent in pubs and hanging about on the streets.

  Frank was in the courts for petty crime on several occasions and, following a gangland street-fight in which four teenagers were hospitalized, he spent nine months in Saughton Prison. It was there that he shared a cell with Jimmy McNeil, a psychopath who was carefully avoided by most of the other inmates. A mutual respect developed between Frank and Jimmy, who got on well together, and when Frank was released on probation, vowing never to be sent inside again, he told Jimmy to contact him when he was also released. Frank was given work by his father, driving trucks throughout Britain and, by working hard, he managed to convince the old man that he was now a reformed character. It wasn't true, though. When Jimmy left Saughton, Frank persuaded his father to let him be a driver for the company as well. It wasn't long before the two had started a “protection racket”, soon followed by “loan shark” activities, in the poorer parts of the city. Frank provided the “brains”, planning and managing the operation, while Jimmy was the chief “enforcer”.

  When his father died following a stroke, Frank inherited the haulage business. He changed the name, rebranding it from Granton Haulage to Granton Transport Services (GTS), and expanded their range into Europe. It provided a perfect cover for M&M's illegal activities and he processed dirty money through the company accounts.

  GTS secured a contract to ship new and second hand agricultural machinery and spare parts to Bucharest in Romania, Budapest in Hungary, Slovakia and the Czech Republic. At the same time, Frank began to negotiate deals with Eastern European criminal gangs and so now, every three or four weeks, a truck left Scotland to make deliveries, returning with boxes filled with electrical equipment, furniture and, occasionally, a few illegal immigrants who had been refused a UK work permit.

  * * *

  There was a tentative knock on the door.

  'Yeah? Come in.'

  Madalina opened the door and entered hesitantly, followed by Ana.

  'Oh, aye. I've been expecting you two. Mark tells me ye gi' him nearly eighteen grand this mornin' – enough to repay all o' what you owe me.'

  'That's right. We pay it all and now we want our passports back.'

  'Tha's a lot of cash, though. Too much, even for two fit lassies like you to earn on your backs. So, I'm wondering … where did you get it?'

  'I got it, Mr Mannion,' said Madalina, lifting her head proudly. 'My father's brother died. He had no children of his own, so he left everything he had to my brother and me. He was not a rich man like you, but he did have some savings and a house and a car. Last week, Stefan sent me my share – over a hundred thousand Leu.'

  'Tha' sounds a hell o' a lot.'

  'It's a lot of money to me, but now you've got nearly all of it. We've settled the debt. You should give us our passports back.'

  'Okay, you're right. I'm a businessman and ye've paid up. I don't have your passports here, though. They're in a desk at ma hoose. I'll let ye know when ah've got them, and ye can come bye and pick them up.'

  Madalina looked pleased and nodded. 'That's good. Thank you, Mr Mannion.'

  * * *

  Chapter 14 December

  Joe spent the rest of the morning helping Maggie with chores on the croft, and taking her to get food supplies from Thurso. When they got back they checked on Jim, and found him wide awake and restless.

  'You'll just stay where you are and behave!' Maggie admonished him. 'Sit yoursel' down, Joe lad, and talk to him, while I make us a bite to eat.'

  Joe laughed at Jim's scowling face. 'You'll make her angry and you won't like it when she gets angry.'

  Jim pursed his mouth and looked skywards. 'She's right enough. I can't complain, lad. She was the same when you were in them karate competitions. If someone managed to catch you with a punch, I had to hold her back from joining in and giving them a whack hersel''

  Joe smiled again.

  'But we was proud of you lad. Remember when you were a brown and going for a black belt, for the first time. That fella from Japan came up 'til Thurso 'til test you all.'

  'Enoeda – Keinosuke Enoeda.'

  'That's the fella. There was four of you, remember, and you were the youngest lad there.'

  'I was in awe of him, dad. He was really famous in the world of Karate ... he's dead now, you know.'

  'Is he now. That's a shame. Well … I thought he gave you a much harder time than any of the others, and afterwards I telled him so. He said 'til me, he thought you were the best young lad he'd ever tested, and he wanted 'til see how good you could be.'

  'You've never told me that before!'

  'Didn't want you gettin' all big-headed, did I?'

  Joe laughed and shook his head.

  'Joe,' called Maggie from the kitchen. 'I've heated up some lentil soup. Come and take a bowl for Jim, then come and get some yoursel'.'

  * * *

  Madalina was changing her high heels for some flatter shoes. It hadn't been one of the busiest nights at the casino, but it was well past midnight, most of the other girls had gone, and she was looking forward to her bed.

  Jonny McLean pushed open the door and came in. 'The boss wants to see you in his office.'

  'Now? I was just about to go home.'

  'He meant right now.'

  'Okay, okay. I'm coming.'

  They walked through the empty hall to Carlo's office. McLean opened the door for her, but gave her a push and didn't follow her in.

  'Madalina, come on in,' said Carlo.

  She was surprised to find that Frank Mannion was there with two others, who she knew only by reputation – Mario Antonelli and Shane Doig, a heavily built, shaven headed, man who was also known as “Pit Bull”.

  'You know Frank, Maddie. He wants to ask you a few questions.'

  'Yeah,' said Mannion, stepping forward. 'When you came to ma office, you said you'd inherited the money you gave me from your uncle, an' I believed you. But now I'm not so sure. What do ye ken about the trouble at the casino.'

  'What trouble? I know nothing about no trouble.'

  'I hope that's true.'

  'It is. I know nothing about trouble.'

  'Shane and Mario here, tell me they've found out you bought a load of coke from a dealer called Dipsy.'

  'Ya …. ya, that is true,' Maddie said, breathing heavily and looking worried. 'A punter ask me to get him some, so I used some of the cash to get it, then sold it on to the punter.'

  'But you told Dipsy that it was for you and a bunch of the girls?'

  'Ya, but I say that 'cos if I'd said it was for a punter, he could have thought I was wanting to be a dealer too, and nick his customers.'

  'Who was the punter, Madalina?' asked Carlo, 'Henry Smythe?'

  'Er .... ya, ya. It was him, that Smythe.'

  Carlo smiled wolfishly. 'But when I asked Natasha to offer some stuff to Smythe, a while back, she said he refused point blank, saying he wouldn't touch it with a bargepole.'

  'And it seems that Smythe's been saying he was fitted up,' said Mannion, menacingly, 'but no-one believes him, except some guy Young … So – I'm asking again, who did you buy the coke for lassie?'

  'Smythe. It was Smythe ... he ask me to!'

  Mannion nodded towards Doig and Antonelli, who
had stepped closer to the trembling woman. Antonelli suddenly grabbed Madalina by the hair and yanked her head backwards. Pit Bull stepped forward, clenched a huge fist, and thumped her hard in the stomach. She doubled up in agony, gasping for breath. Doig stepped forward once more and lifted her face. He drew back his fist again and swung another heavy blow. Maddie saw it coming and managed to turn her head slightly. It saved her nose, but she felt and heard a crack as the fist smashed into her cheekbone.

  'I'll ask again, lassie. Who did you buy it for?'

  'It was Smythe,' she sobbed, collapsing on the floor.

  'If you don't tell me the truth, Mario'll show you his blade. You've a pretty face, lassie. It'd be a shame to cut it up and spoil it.'

  Antonelli reached under his jacket and took out a knife with a long, slim, double-sided blade. She looked at it, horrified, through her tears.

  'I'm telling you the truth.'

  'Okay, Mario.'

  Pit Bull wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up, while Antonelli moved around in front.

  'No, no. Please. I tell you. Okay, okay it wasn't Smythe. It was a guy – Joe. I ... I not know his other name. An architect guy call Joe. He knew Keith.'

  'That's Keith Sanderson,' said Carlo nodding and smiling. 'He used to come to the casino. He was the guy who drove his Audi off the road and was killed. Cormack Construction took over his development in the Old Town. I can always ask Seamus if Sanderson knew an architect called Joe.'

  'Where's he live, lassie?'

  'I not know. He come to me. It the truth … I promise! I'm telling you the truth.'

  'Okay, I do believe you now,' Mannion said grimly. He nodded towards Antonelli. 'Cut her anyway, Mario. It'll teach the other girls not to try anything on like this.'

  'No!'

  Outside the door, McLean heard the shrill scream. He winced and walked away shaking his head

  * * *

  'Morning, CAT Architects,' Alison breathed, huskily, into the telephone.