* * *
In Granton, a puzzled Frank Mannion had parked his Range Rover in front of the vehicle gates. He looked around expecting to see a couple of Police cars, but the road was almost empty. His mobile phone rang.
'Yeah?'
'Frank ... Jimmy. I've been trying to get hold of yer. Where are yer?'
'I'm down at the yard.'
What yer doin' there? I thought I saw yer go home ages ago. I rang yer hoose an' just got the answer machine, so then I called yer mobile. It's just, yer hoose alarm's gone off. Is it a false alarm or what?'
'It's done what?'
'Your hoose alarm ... intruder ... yer ken?'
'Fucking hell, Jimmy! ... I'm being broken into at the house! ... I'm not there, I'm down at the yard ... Get yoursel' round to my place as quick as you can ... I'll join you there!'
* * *
While Paul was busy across the street, Joe and Neil had bypassed the electric gates to Mannion's house by climbing over a low stone wall, from the neighbours driveway, into the large back garden. They forced open a rear door that led into a large galley kitchen. They were wearing black jeans, fleece jackets, gloves and ski-masks. Neil indicated a CCTV camera in a corner of the ceiling. On it, a light on a small box had started flashing rapidly. Joe nodded and ran through a Breakfast Room into an impressive hallway, and from there into an adjacent room that had been noted, on the agents plan, as Study / Family Room. It turned out to be the room used by Frank Mannion as his study and, in his haste to leave, he hadn't switched off the anglepoise lamp on the desk. The desktop also had an open A4 diary, a letter tray containing a few bills and some correspondence, a couple of magazines, the phone and a laptop plugged into a wall socket.
Joe rifled through the desk's drawers. The first one contained a few files. He quickly flicked through three of them, but decided that they had no information of value and would be of little use to them. In the small centre drawer, though, he found a bundle of passports which he stuffed into a shoulder bag.
While Joe was in the Study on the Ground Floor, Neil had gone upstairs. He went straight to the top floor – the roof-space with large dormer windows. It had two large bedrooms, a shower room, and a small room that contained fitness training equipment. He guessed that these were Mark's spaces and decided not to spend any more time on that floor, and moved down to the one below. This floor contained three more bedrooms and a large drawing room with a huge bay window overlooking the front garden. He quickly checked through some drawers in a sideboard opposite the ornate fireplace, then moved into the largest bedroom. It had it's own en-suite and a dressing room annexe, and it was clearly used by Mannion and his partner. In bedside cupboards, Neil found a couple of notebooks, which he pocketed, and some jewellery. To his uneducated eye, they didn't look very valuable items but he took them anyway, so that it might appear as if the break-in was a simple burglary. Away in the distance he heard the sound of an approaching siren.
He checked his watch and ran downstairs. 'Time to go.'
Joe nodded, shouldered his bag, and came out of the study carrying some files and the laptop. They re-traced their steps through the Breakfast room and Kitchen to the back door. Looking round the corner of the house, they saw flames licking upwards from the roof of the garage, at the end of the driveway across the road. Just then, a fire engine swung round the end of the street. It pulled up with the deafening noise of its siren still sounding and flashing blue lights illuminated the small crowd, that was beginning to gather on the pavement in front of Mannion's gate. They had intended to re-trace their path into the neighbouring garden, but Neil heard the voices of the occupants as they came outside to find out what was happening. He tugged at Joe's sleeve and they headed in the opposite direction into the driveway of number 20. Stripping off their ski-masks, they sauntered down the drive and joined the onlookers, as Firefighters unreeled a hose and headed towards the burning outbuilding.
* * *
Jimmy McNeil was a complex character. Big, ugly, immensely strong and unpredictable, prone to having uncontrollable bouts of rage, he nevertheless still lived at home with his elderly mother. They shared a second floor council flat in Pilton, where he'd lived the whole of his life, apart from the years that he'd spent incarcerated in Scottish Prisons. He was unattractive to women who were invariably frightened by his moods, and he, in turn, regarded them as an inferior species. He enjoyed using, abusing and demeaning any woman that came within his power, with the single exception of his mother. He was devoted to her. He placed her on a pedestal shared by no other and, she in turn, blind to the offences that he'd been convicted of, loved the son who had filled her life since the day that she'd been jilted by Jimmy's father. As soon as he'd put down the phone, after speaking with Mannion, McNeil shot down the stairs and out of the flat.
'What's the matter, Jimmy? What's happening?' said his mother, but the words hung unanswered in the air, like motes of dust, as he jumped into his Mitsubishi.
Tyres spinning, he turned the car and raced across the city.
* * *
A pall of smoke hung over Stonehall Road, yellow under the street-lights, together with a strong smell of burning rubber. Most of the onlookers had gone home, the Firefighters were clearing away their equipment, and the owner of the roofless garage was being interviewed by the Crew Manager. Unable to get through the congested traffic into Stonehall Road, Jimmy McNeil left his car in Mayfield Road and ran the rest of the way to Mannion's house. A few minutes later, he was joined by Frank and together they went inside. They quickly discovered the back door that had been forced open. Thinking that it was feasible that the intruders were still on the premises, Frank went quickly through each room in turn, while Jimmy stood in the hallway ready stop anyone who tried to escape. It soon became clear that there was no-one else in the house, however, and Frank started to check the rooms much more carefully.
'At least they've no trashed the place, Frank,' said Jimmy, a little in awe of Mannion's expensively furnished house.
'These weren't your usual house-breakers, Jim. Some little bitch, pretending to be a cop, lured me out of the house to clear the decks for them. It was planned.'
'But yer'll have 'em on the CCTV, though?'
'Yeah, I will. I'll take a look at that in a minute ... Shit!' he exclaimed, noticing for the first time that the computer was gone. 'They've nicked my laptop, Jimmy. It's the one I use to keep all the business information.'
'I thought yer'd got all that stuff on the computer in yer office – down at the yard,' said Jimmy with a frown. He was pretty much computer illiterate. They were a mystery to him, except for his smart-phone and he only used that for a fraction of it's capacity.
'I use the one at the yard for the haulage business. It's got all the records that the accountant uses when he's doing the books for the Tax-man. The one they've nicked, though, I use for all our other work. It's got the stuff on it that the tax boys don't get to see.'
'Do yer think they're goin' try to blackmail us with it then, Frank?'
'Nah. It won't be much use to them. They won't be able to get into it. They'd have to know my password to log on. They'll never guess that. It's one of the long ones that uses numbers and capitals – supposed to be unbreakable. It's just a fucking nuisance, though, 'cos I haven't backed it up since October. It means I've lost nearly three months records.'
'Could have been a lot worse, then. Let's have a look at the CCTV. See if we can recognize any of the fuckers.'
'We can't – not tonight anyway. The cameras were connected to the laptop. There's an off-site server that'll have a copy of the film record for tonight, though. I'll just have to transfer the files on to a memory stick and take it down to the yard in the morning.'
They heard the front door open and Cheryl came in, bright-faced from her pilates session. 'What's been going on, here – there's a fire engine out the front.'
'Aye, there's been a fire in the Nicholson's garage, sweetie,' said Frank getting up. 'Jimmy's her
e but he's just on his way out – I'll see you down at the yard in the morning, Jim.'
'Okay, Frank. Right, I'll see yer then. So long, Frank. Bye Cheryl.'
* * *
The next morning, Jimmy McNeil joined Mannion in his office. It was still dark outside and bitterly cold but, inside the prefabricated walls of the office, Frank had switched on an electric convector with the fan on maximum, and hot air was blasting out into the room.
'Have you heard anything recently from Doig and Antonelli, Jim?' said Frank, without taking his eyes off the computer monitor. 'Right now, we could really do with them here in Edinburgh.'
'Aye, I ken. Mario called last night. They're still in Paisley bunking up at Doig's brother's place. He was asking if they can come back yet.'
Frank reconsidered for a few seconds, and then growled. 'Best tell them to wait another couple of weeks, to be on the safe side, then they can get their arses back over here ... Ah, here it is!'
He'd been looking through CCTV images from the cameras installed in his house. Jimmy walked around the desk and looked over Frank's shoulder at the screen. There were grainy images of Joe and Neil, figures dressed all in black, their faces hidden by ski-masks.
'Is that them bastards robbing you?'
'Yeah, there's two of them.'
There were six cameras in the house – covering the front and back doors, the Living Room, Hall, Study and Master bedroom. The footage from the cameras in the Living Room and front door showed nothing, but they watched the other four recordings several times.
'I reckon they were only in the house for about ten minutes,' said Frank. 'My telly and the sound system are top of the range, but they weren't interested in stuff like that – just little items like cash and jewellery, and the laptop of course.'
'I didn't recognize either of the two fuckers from the pictures, though. So who do we think they were then?'
'Not sure. Possibly there's a new outfit in town. Maybe someone's got ideas of putting us out of business, and moving onto our turf ... wanting to put down a marker.'
'I'll put a fucking marker on 'em when I find out who they are!'
'Then, there's still that architect guy Sutherland, who stitched up the fella Smythe. The one who Pit Bull and Antonelli were looking for when they beat up that woman. He could be one of them. Is someone still keeping an eye on his flat?'
'Aye, but he disappeared with the woman and they've not been back.'
'Doesn't mean he's not in the city. Keep someone watching to see if he turns up. And ask around – see if anyone has heard of a new firm – one with balls and ambition.'
* * *
Chapter 19 February
A week later, feeling miserable, Joe went back to the office. He had been making a site inspection on a muddy site in Portobello and had been caught in a sudden heavy downpour. Despite wearing his hard-hat, waterproof jacket and over-trousers, he still felt damp and uncomfortable. He made himself a coffee, picked up a couple of notes from Alison, giving the details of people who had been trying to phone him, then went over to his desk. The strong hot coffee warmed his throat and cheered him up. The office was empty except for Julia, who was working on a primary school extension in Currie. She had her head down, writing detailed specification notes for the roof construction. There had been some talk within the office about Samantha's injuries, and rumours about what had happened at the flat, but all of those who really knew the facts had kept silent on the subject. Julia came across to ask his opinion on the single ply membrane that she had been considering using for the roof of the extension. It was a product that he had specified previously, and he was able to reassure her that it was a good material and there hadn't been any problems with it on the previous occasion.
She turned and started to go back to her desk, then hesitated and turned back to him. 'Er …Joe?'
'Yeah?'
'You and Neil have been having a few quiet conversations together since the New Year, and ... er ... there have been several impromptu meetings, arranged suddenly in the conference room, by the Directors and you. I ... er ... Are you making plans to get back at the people who hurt Sam?' she blurted out.
Joe smiled, 'You're an inquisitive little devil, Jules. You don't miss much do you?'
She looked embarrassed. 'I hear things, and I keep my eyes open ... and I like Sam. It was great when we took part in the raid on Carlo's together ... so … come on, Joe, is there something going on?'
'Maybe, but we badly underestimated some of the people involved before, and now we know they play dirty, so we're keeping everything on a “need to know” basis – mainly to protect other folk. That includes you, Julie, because if you don't know anything it's not likely you'll get hurt.'
'But I'd like to help, really I would. If there is anything I can do, just let me know.'
'Thanks, Jules. So far, all we've got are ideas, but nothing's been finalized, yet … I do appreciate the offer but there's nothing you can do at the moment.'
She nodded. 'Okay, so long as you know.'
She was turning back to her desk when a thought occurred to Joe. 'Actually, there is something. You know when you cracked Carlo's e-mail address?'
'Yes?'
'Was it really a fluke, or did you hack it in some way?'
'It was a pure guess. I just got lucky. Why?'
'Well, I've got this laptop ... No questions, right! ... But when I open it, the user account is password protected ... I don't suppose that you could “guess” that one?'
'No way – with nothing to go on, it could be anything ... but you don't need to. You just have to bypass the log in.'
Joe looked puzzled and frowned. 'What do you mean?'
'There was this guy I knew at Uni. He had an old laptop that he'd been using for a few years. When he got his degree, his grandfather bought him a new one as a present – much more powerful and a bigger screen. He used it for his postgrad work, then, when he was preparing some presentation stuff, he remembered some photos that he'd taken in Italy. Problem was, he'd stored them on the old computer. It had been a while, though, and in the meantime he'd changed his favourite passwords, strengthening them. He'd forgotten which one he'd used for the old computer and he was really pissed off about it 'cos he couldn't get into it.'
'So?'
'So I did a little research on the net. It happens more than you'd think – people forgetting a password. There's software you can buy, but it's also possible to switch the machine on and, before it boots up, step in quick and open it in “safe mode”. Then you can open a new account – give it a name and a password and, most important - give the new user “administrator rights”. Then, when you restart it normally in Windows, you log on with the new account and, if you want, you can remove the password from the old user.'
'You've done this?'
'Yeah, it wasn't difficult, really. Pete was dead chuffed when he recovered the Venice photos. It got me at least twenty brownie points.'
Joe laughed. 'You're a wee techie nerd, Jules.'
He unlocked a filing cabinet and lifted out the laptop that he'd taken from Mannion's house. 'Have a go at that one, then.'
She sat down with the machine, booted it up and several minutes later, turned triumphantly with a broad smile on her face. 'There you go ... I've opened a new account called “Wonder Woman”. It's got Administrator rights and it doesn't need a password. You may applaud now!'
Joe laughed and clapped his hands.
'There's only one other account on it and I've removed the password. It's called “Frank” and it contains quite a few folders. There are none for his e-mail, though, so he probably keeps that in a cloud. Who's Frank?'
Joe walked over and glanced at the screen. 'You don't want to know. That's fantastic though. Thanks – I owe you one, Jules.' He shut down the computer and locked it in the filing cabinet. 'I'll have a good look at it this evening.'
* * *
Neil and Joe sat at the large dining table in Neil's kitchen. They were facing
each other and both had a laptop open on the table containing the files copied from Mannion's computer. Unwashed dishes and pans piled in the sink were still giving off a faint aroma of the meal they had shared earlier. It was ten o'clock and they had been carefully sifting through the information for the past three hours.
'Julie's given us a real breakthough,' Neil said, looking up. 'This folder called “Contacts” has a spreadsheet with names, addresses and phone numbers of people, all listed under the different cities in Europe. There are even maps showing preferred routes through the countries, with places to stop overnight or for meals.'
'I've just been looking through one that I find pretty disturbing,' replied Joe. 'It's called “Incomers”. It's got details of different people – I think they could be ones that they've trafficked. There are passport numbers together with home addresses and phone numbers, maps giving locations for the addresses, and even the ages of family members. What I don't like to think, is that it could be information that they've used for blackmail or coercion, by threatening their families back home.'
Neil shook his head slowly. 'They certainly are an organized bunch.'
Designer Crime Page 17
