Designer Crime

by Allen Whitehead

  As the bolt came free, Paul swept up the chain and stuffed it into his rucksack, as his friend came up the wooden steps.

  'Hi, Charlie. You're up early.'

  'Hello, Paul. Yes, I thought I'd pop up and see how your author friend's been getting on.'

  'Oh, dear. I'm afraid you've missed him. He had to leave early to get the train back to Birmingham.'

  'Oh, that's a shame. Trouble?' he asked, noticing the spanner in Paul's hand.

  'Er … not really. Bill had said that the stove was “rocking“. It had just come a bit loose, so I was tightening the bolt. I …er … really came up to make sure that he'd left your hut in good order – you know how authors can be a bit untidy – but I think he's left it spick and span.'

  'It looks fine to me.'

  'He thought it was really great, by the way – just what he'd been looking for.'

  'Bill, you say? You never told me your author friend's name.'

  'Didn't I? It's …er … Bill Morrison,' said Paul getting up from his knees.

  'Bill Morrison eh? I must look his work up on the internet. Did he tell you the title of book he's been working on?'

  'Oh, yeah,' Paul said, thinking fast. He said the first thing that came into his head. 'He hadn't made a final decision, but he reckoned that he might use “Dead men don't swim.” He told me it's a murder mystery – set in the Outer Isles.'

  'Strange title – but you must let me know when it's published,' smiled Charles. 'We'll order a copy or two. It'll be interesting to tell our guests about.'

  'I'll do that,' Paul said, picking up his rucksack. 'Thanks again, for letting him use the place, Charlie. I've got to shoot, now, though. I've got some engineers coming in to see me this morning. We'll catch up with you soon. You must come round for a meal with Jo and me.'

  * * *

  Detective Sergeant June Rushforth knocked apprehensively on the door.

  'Yes?'

  'Sorry sir,' she said, going into the office and closing the door behind her. 'One of the drivers got away.'

  The Chief Superintendent put down his pen and looked up. 'Which one?'

  'The one we have got is a Gary Bow – he told us the other one was called McNeil.'

  'Damn it, Sergeant. For heaven's sake, he's the one we didn't want to get away! Jimmy McNeil is a very bad lot. He's violent and unpredictable. Mannion is the brains of the gang, but McNeil is the other half. He's already spent a fair bit of his adult life behind bars, but I've been waiting for a chance to get evidence that could put him away again, for a very long time.'

  'I know, but …'

  'People are scared of him, though,' he continued, ignoring the interruption, 'and no-one we've been talking to would give us anything that we can pin on him. The information we've got on Mannion's computer implicates him in everything, so I really, really, wanted to have him in custody.'

  'Sorry, sir. We had one car in place, but the other was held up in traffic. We did what we could, but they saw us coming and he made a break for it through the warehouse and out of a fire escape. We've circulated a photo and his description on the network, but so far we've had no response.'

  Graham thumped his fist on the desk. 'It's not good enough, June! I'm very disappointed.'

  'I knew you would be sir – and so am I. We've been round to the flat he shares with his mother, but there wasn't anything there. Actually, she's a nice old woman. She loves her “boy” - thinks he's a good, hard worker and she can't understand why we don't just leave him alone.'

  He nodded, resignedly. 'It would be worth keeping an eye on that flat, Sergeant.' he sighed. 'She's the only person in the world that he gives a damn about, and sooner or later, you can bet he'll turn up there.'

  'I'll see to it. We'll do everything we can, sir.'

  * * *

  Paul put his head around the office door. 'We're just off for an Italian, Joe. Do you care to join us?'

  'Yeah, okay, Paul. I've just got one phone call to make, first, so you all go round and I'll join you there.'

  He made his call, put on his jacket and walked around the corner to Raphael's. Paul, Neil, Liz and George were already seated and had started on a bottle of red wine.

  'No Fraser?' he asked.

  'No,' said Liz. 'We don't see much of him these days.'

  'His priorities seem to be elsewhere,' George added, handing round a basket of bread rolls. 'We're only three months into the year, and he's already used up nearly all of his holiday entitlement.'

  Joe nodded and turned to Paul. 'When I went back up to that place in the hills, you know, near the Whiteadder Reservoir where we left him, Johnston had gone ... Did you have any trouble cleaning up the shepherd's hut? '

  'No, I didn't – Rab had been a good boy and I only had to wash the floor and clean out the stove again, but I took the bedding home, to stick through the washing machine, before giving Charles his key back.'

  'I thought that shepherd's hut was lovely. I could have happily spent a couple of weeks in it.'

  'It is,' Paul agreed. 'Only problem was, Charlie came up and asked me the title of the book my “friend” had written so that he could order a copy. I had to think of something on the spur of the moment – so I said “Dead men don't swim.”

  Everyone laughed.

  'I know – it sounds daft, but it's the first thing that came into my head ... I told him it's a murder mystery set in a Scottish fishing village.'

  The conversation paused while the waiter, dressed all in black, brought four plates of steaming pasta with chorizo sausage sauce and spooned grated parmesan over the top, followed by ground black pepper, while they watched hungrily. A moment later, a pretty waitress hurried up with an individual plate of salmon and vegetables which, with a flourish, she put in front of George.

  'Enjoy!'

  'I also drove past GTS's yard in Granton this morning,' said Joe, after she had returned to the kitchen. 'It was all closed up so it looks like they've ceased trading.'

  'Aye, right, that's good. It would be great if we've put them out of business,' Neil said, reaching for his wine glass. 'Last night I went out in the town with Maddie and Ana. We took all the passports that we got from Mannion's desk, to give back to the folks they belonged to.'

  'I'll bet they were pleased to see you!'

  'Yeah, they were, but they were even more pleased to see the girls ... They wouldn't tell them where they're living and working, though – just as a precaution ... After that, we went along George Street. Carlo's is shut. There's a sign on the door that says “Temporary closure for alterations”. It could be a permanent closure or just a change of ownership. It depends on what Carlo boy is charged with.'

  'Well, I only hope the Sheriff decides to make an example of him,' Liz said vehemently.

  * * *

  For many years, the City of Edinburgh Council had been progressively enlarging the zones, in which charges were levied for car parking, outwards from the city centre. Joe, however, managed to find a space in a residential district where he was still allowed to park free of charge. He frequently had to use his car, during the working day, to undertake surveys or inspect work under construction, so using public transport to get to the office was not an option. He got out of his car reflecting on the fact that the distance he had to walk to work was increasing year on year. He'd gone direct to a site from Neil's flat and went into the office around eleven o'clock.

  'Oh, Joe,' called Alison, then she lowered her voice to a whisper. 'You remember, a while back, just before your Samantha got beaten up, a man phoned asking about you ... He was a bit foul-mouthed when I wouldn't tell him where you lived?'

  'Yeah, I remember. Has he been in touch again?'

  'I think so, yes ... I'm pretty sure it was the same guy. He was a bit more polite this time, but the voice sounded the same. I got a bit suspicious, because he asked for you by name, but when I said you were out and asked if I could take a message, or get you to call him back – he said 'no' and hung up quickly.'

&nb
sp; 'Right,' said Joe, thoughtfully. 'I thought that something like this might happen.'

  'What's it about, Joe? Is it connected to what happened to Sam?'

  'I'm afraid I'm not able to say, Ali, but I want you to trust me on this. It's something that I've got to deal with.'

  'Yes?' she said, guardedly.

  'The next time the same voice calls, I want you to say to him - “He's out of the office, but he'll be in tomorrow morning ... Oh, no he won't … I remember now, he said he'd be on site in Dunbar … he's got a meeting at ten o'clock at the new old folks sheltered housing development – the one being built by Stone McLennan – near the big supermarket.” Then, I want you to call me, straight away, and let me know.'

  'But I don't understand, Joe. What does he want?'

  'It's difficult to explain, Ali, and my problem is – I don't know who he is or what he looks like. I do want to talk to him and his pal, though, but only on my own terms … If you do as I ask, I think they're going to turn up at the site, and I'll be able to clock them as they arrive.'

  'I'm not happy about it. It sounds a bit dangerous, Joe. You'll take care – won't you?'

  'I appreciate your concern, Alison, I really do, but I can't live my life looking over my shoulder, wondering who's coming up behind me.'

  Alison sighed and bit her lip. 'I'll be worried sick all that morning, wondering if you're getting hurt. There'll be people on site who'll help you, eh?'

  Joe smiled. 'If I haven't phoned you by lunchtime, you have my permission to call the cops, okay?'

  * * *

  'He called again, Joe,' Alison said softly, so as not to be overheard.

  It was late in the afternoon and Joe had been working at his computer for three hours, although he'd been finding it difficult to maintain his concentration. He kept running through alternative scenarios in his head.

  'Did you say what I asked?'

  'I said exactly what you told me to.'

  'Thanks, Ali, that's great,' he replied confidently, while inwardly he trembled with anticipation.

  He waited until Paul had finished a telephone conversation and put the handset back in it's holder before walking over to his desk.

  'It's tomorrow, Paul. One of them just spoke to Alison.'

  Paul frowned. 'Well, if you think I'm going to let you face the two thugs on your own, Joe, you've another think coming.'

  'We've already had this conversation, Paul. I really appreciate your concern, but I've got a plan in my head, and that's it.'

  Paul shook his head. 'I disagree. I'm not at all happy about it, Joe. We know what violent bastards they are. I'm coming along to back you up.'

  'No, you're not.'

  'I can, I really want to back you up, you know – it's not too late to change the plan.'

  'I know, and as I've said, I do appreciate your offer. It's not cast in stone,but I've got it worked out in my head now, and I don't want to have to consider you as well. I'm happier just having myself to worry about.'

  'What if they've got guns?'

  'Aye, I did wonder about that. It's a bit of a calculated risk on my part. According to Maddie, the two guys are bullies and their aim is to intimidate people by threats, only backed up by violence. They're just thugs – not professional hit men.'

  'I still think it's a real risk, and I do want to help, so if you change your mind, just let me know. In the morning is it?'

  'Yeah, like we discussed.'

  'If you haven't called the office by lunchtime, I'm coming out to look for you.'

  Joe put on his best super-confident smile. 'Deal!' he replied, but the smile masked his misgivings.

  After work, he went straight to the Primary School where he gave the two-weekly karate classes that he had organized with Sam. The first session was for primary school children, and usually around twenty children came regularly. That evening there were twenty-three in the class. Several of the youngsters were very keen and their high spirits were infectious. The second hour was for seniors and was much more focussed. Five of the karateka – three men and two women were first degree black belts. They took their training very seriously and looked to Joe to help them hone their skills. It was an intense session and everyone was red-faced and breathing heavily at the end, but their eyes were bright and there was a lot of friendly banter as they headed to the changing rooms. By the time he had changed and locked up the hall, Joe felt more relaxed than he had for days. The weeks of uncertainty and waiting were coming to an end at last. He bought a take-away fish supper on the way from the school and ate it in the car before driving back to Neil's flat. His friend was out and the telephone was ringing as he opened the door and walked in.

  'Hello?'

  'Joe, it's me.'

  'Oh, hi Sam. How are you, love?'

  'Missing you, Joe ... I really am, lover. When can I come home? … I'm getting really, really fed up, waiting up here, now.'

  'Soon, babe, I promise. I reckon it's nearly all sorted ... There's just one more thing to be settled. All being well, I'll be able to tell you about it tomorrow … How's Dad doing?'

  * * *

  Chapter 24 March

  Joe looked out of the window to see a light covering of snow dusting the cars in the street, and in Neil's small front garden violet and yellow crocuses were picking their heads back up, determined to survive the final efforts of winter. It was seven o'clock and the central heating had not yet warmed the flat, but the cold temperature didn't register with him. His head was fully occupied with the plans he had made, and he kept constantly weighing up the possible flaws and unpredictable issues that could impact on their outcome. He ate a small breakfast and drank a couple of cups of coffee for the caffeine boost, then got into the Duster and drove unhurriedly out of the city.

  Traffic heading towards East Lothian was light compared with the much heavier flow on the opposite side of the A1 – commuters that were heading to their jobs in Edinburgh. Council vehicles spreading grit and salt had been out during the night, working during the early hours, and the snow had almost completely disappeared from the surface of the carriageway. It was just after eight o'clock when he drove through the main street in Dunbar, and turned right towards a small industrial estate on the eastern edge of the town.

  The new sheltered housing development, that was being constructed by Stone McLennan, occupied a gap site on the right hand side of the road. It was surrounded by a fence of wire mesh panels linked together, and had two panels that could be opened to provide an entry for vehicles. Immediately inside these gates were the temporary buildings that formed the site offices, welfare and storage units. Joe had visited the site to make an inspection, earlier in the week, so he was not expected by the site agent. There was no reason for him to go in, so he parked his car in a nearby cul-de-sac where he could keep an eye on the entrance.

  Just after nine o'clock, he saw a large black BMW come towards the site, down the road from it's junction with the A1 dual carriageway. The car's speed decreased as it approached the site and it drove slowly past. Joe was immediately alert and noticed that there was a passenger sitting beside the driver. The car disappeared from sight, but two minutes later it slowly returned, pulling up just in front of the gate. The passenger got out of the car, walked into the site and headed for the site office. Joe, satisfied that they were indeed the ones looking for him, started the engine and, leaving it running, got out of his car, walked round to the rear and opened the tailgate.

  Pit Bull Doig and Mario Antonelli had left the boarding house in Portobello at eight o'clock that morning. Doig was driving his Series 4 BMW Coupe and, beside him, Antonelli lounged back against the black leather watching the countryside go past

  'I've never been into Dunbar, have you Shane?'

  'Aye, I went there a couple of times when I was a lad. Didn't think too much of it, mind. I thought it was a bit of a dive – there was just a wee harbour, a few amusements and the beach – not much to do.'

  'You know where we're going then?'


  'Yeah. I checked wi' Google. There's only one big supermarket. It's on the Berwick side o' the town next to a roundabout on the A1'

  The road sign before the roundabout had a branch that indicated “Store”, so Doig immediately began to slow. He took the road heading towards the town centre as soon as they saw the supermarket. They cruised slowly past the construction site, noting Stone McLennan's advertisement hoarding, turned at a road junction further along the road and returned, pulling up near the site entrance.

  'I'll go and ask the foreman if Sutherland's on site,' Antonelli said getting out.

  He walked in through the gate and climbed up the steel external stairs to the upper storey site cabin, that had “Office” on the door. He pulled it open and looked in. The site agent was sitting at a desk with an open laptop in front of him and was speaking to a workman standing beside him. Antonelli waited until they finished their conversation, and the workman had turned to leave, before going in.

  'Hi, I'm looking for the architect, Joe Sutherland. I was told he would be here today?'

  'He didn't say he was coming when I spoke to him yesterday – he was only here on Tuesday.'

  Antonelli shrugged. 'Well, that's what their receptionist told me.'

  The site agent got up, walked over to the door, and stepped out on to the landing.

  'We haven't got space for many cars on site, so he usually parks over in the industrial estate … Oh, yeah, he's over there – the white Dacia. That's him,' he said, pointing.

  'Thanks,' Antonelli called as he ran down the steps.

  Joe slammed the tailgate shut, jumped behind the wheel, and drove out into the main road heading for the A1. Antonelli ran back to Doig's black coupe, pointing at Joe's car that was moving off.

  'That's him, Shane. In the white 4x4', he shouted.

  Doig fired up the engine and was already moving off as Antonelli climbed in beside him.

  'Quick, Shane, he's getting away.'

  'Don't worry,' Doig said, smiling. 'I'll soon catch up with him on the A1'