A Brush With Death

by Quintin Jardine

  ‘All that you’ll have worked out,’ Stoddart continued. ‘This will be new to you, though, I think. Gene – I’ll keep calling her that – had to offer Leo that bribe. She needed him to go down because she had a secret that only she and my father knew about. Yevgeny Brezinski had a contusion on his brain from a previous bout. He won it, but afterwards he complained of headaches, and had a private scan done that showed up the injury. He was at huge risk going into any fight, but with Leo, well, it was suicidal. So the offer was made and Leo said okay. You know what happened: he fought a straight fight, and he won by a knockout. An hour later, Yevgeny went into a coma, on the way home with Gene. She took him to a private hospital, where they operated, but the damage was too great.’

  ‘He died?’ Provan asked.

  ‘Worse, he didn’t die. He’s in a permanent vegetative state, in a private clinic in Switzerland. My father was only too aware of our part in the business. He knew, Gene knew, that even with Leo going into the tank, taking a dive, there would be a risk, but the money involved was too great. They let it go ahead. Ever since, I’ve been paying Zirka a million a year in so-called consultancy fees. That money’s actually gone to Yevgeny’s hospital costs.’

  ‘Did Leo know the whole story?’

  ‘God, no. If he had ever found out he’d have put us all in jail, even if he’d gone down too for not reporting the bribe.’

  ‘But with Moscardinetto turned loose on his warts-and-all film, were you no’ afraid that he would find out?’

  ‘Our first priority was to get that laptop. Leo dying was fortuitous. It gave us a chance to bury the film for good.’

  ‘Especially if Aldorino was dead as well.’

  ‘That was not the instruction,’ Stoddart protested.

  ‘You’ll forgive me,’ Provan murmured slowly, ‘and maybe the jury for thinking it looks that way. And Leo,’ he added, ‘did he walk in on somebody too?’

  Moss Lee stirred, but the DS stalled him with a single pointing finger.

  Stoddart gazed at him. ‘Are you asking if we killed him? No, absolutely not. For a start, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to try, and don’t bother suggesting Billy either. He idolised Leo; he’d have killed me before he’d have harmed him. Anyway, our first suspicions didn’t arise until I was interviewed by the Italian, and that didn’t happen until last Friday morning, before I flew up here. I assure you, DS Provan, if Leo was murdered – and nobody’s said definitively that he was – you are looking for someone else.’

  Forty-Four

  ‘Congratulations, you two. You closed the book on a complex murder investigation. I wish I could have been in the room, instead of watching a video feed.’

  ‘We got by with a little help from our friend,’ Provan sang, in a fit of magnanimity, but softly, so that his voice did not carry beyond their table in the Sauchiehall Street coffee shop.

  ‘Thank you, Joe Cocker,’ Skinner laughed, ‘but you did the hard graft. You broke down the suspects. I just made a few phone calls.’

  The DS nodded. ‘Put that way, you’re right. We did get a result, didn’t we, Lottie, and we might have saved the nation the cost of a trial too, if the Crown accepts Swords’s plea to culpable homicide.’

  ‘Which it will,’ his former chief said, as he picked up his flat white. ‘The decision will go all the way up to the boss, the Lord Advocate, and he always takes the cheaper option. I know this,’ he added. ‘I have dinner with him fairly often.’

  ‘What about Stoddart?’ Mann asked. ‘Will the Advocate go all the way with him?’

  ‘I know you implied he would, but I don’t see how he can. Theoretically the court could accept Swords’s guilty plea to culp hom and impose a ban on reporting until after Stoddart’s murder trial. They might even get a conviction, although I doubt it, but it would never be upheld at appeal, no way. True, Dan did beautifully in getting him to cough all that up under the threat of a murder conviction. However, when Moss Lee gets his act together, if Stoddart keeps him on, he’ll offer a guilty plea to the theft charge. I suspect that the Crown will take that too. Even the lesser homicide charge will be hard to prove.’

  ‘How much time will they be looking at?’

  ‘Come on, Lottie,’ Skinner said, ‘you know how that goes. It’ll depend on who the judge is, and how tough he or she decides to be. It’ll also depend on how good the pleas in mitigation are. Cecily Marsden can’t appear in the High Court; she isn’t qualified for that, not yet. Alex could, but she won’t. She’ll retain the best QC available. Force me to guess, I reckon Swords gets eight to ten years, and Stoddart gets at least six, because he was the principal; he ordered the theft and the theft led to the killing.’

  ‘If ye believe that,’ Provan observed. ‘If you accept that they never meant tae kill Moscardinetto.’

  ‘The fake text sending him to Butler’s office kind of proves that, doesn’t it, Dan?’

  ‘I suppose,’ the DS conceded. ‘I wonder why he came back early.’

  ‘I know,’ Mann volunteered. ‘While you and Gowans were congratulating each other, I phoned Gino. I thought the guy might have called his office to verify the time, or something like that. But no, it turns out that by sheer chance, Butler was walking along Gordon Street, on his way to Joy Herbert’s office to discuss Leo’s estate, when he encountered Moscardinetto waiting for a taxi. The Italian asked him what he was doing there when they had a meeting in fifteen minutes. Gino said, “What meeting?” and kept on moving, since he was late for the lawyer.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Skinner whispered. ‘By such a random encounter a life was ended.’

  ‘Aye,’ Provan said, ‘if you accept that Swords wasnae told to wait for him and kill him when he got back.’

  ‘Sure, but you’ve just sat across the table from Stoddart, Dan, and looked him in the eye, as have I. Is he a man who would order a killing? I don’t believe so. Do you, really?’

  Slowly the DS shook his head. ‘No. No, Ah don’t,’ he admitted. ‘What about Gene Alderney?’ he asked. ‘What are we goin’ tae do about her?’

  ‘You’re going to do nothing,’ Skinner replied. ‘She’s already given you an explanation for Swords’ text message; it may be a lie, but to a jury it’s her word against his. There’s no other evidence that she knew of the theft of the laptop and phone, we have no statement that was ever made in her presence, and nothing’s been said by Swords or Stoddart to incriminate her in any way.’

  He smiled. ‘We, on the other hand – by that I mean the service of which I am a sometime member – we are going to turn her over to the CPS in England for prosecution for passport fraud, and to the Home Office for deportation as an illegal immigrant. The passport charge, if it’s laid, could be unfortunate in theory for Gino Butler, since he countersigned her application and her photographs, as a member of a suitable profession. But . . . the CPS would have to prove that he actually knew she wasn’t who she purported to be. That’s not going to happen, so he’ll get out from under.’

  ‘What about her son?’ Mann suggested. ‘She covered up his existing brain trauma, she tried to bribe Leo Speight, and she kept his collapse secret.’

  ‘If those are crimes in Russia, Lottie, that’s where they’ll be dealt with.’

  ‘Suits me,’ Provan observed cheerfully. ‘One less case to process, one fewer report to the procurator fucking fiscal.’

  Skinner gazed at him. ‘You sound like a man who’s beginning to realise that there are other things to life than pursuing bad bastards and locking them up.’

  ‘You could be right there, Chief. Australia’s done wonders for me. Mind you,’ he added, ‘so’s this case. I havenae had time tae bother about jet lag.’

  ‘And you’re not finished yet, Dan. One down, one to go.’

  Instantly the DS’s countenance became mournful. ‘Thanks for remindin’ us. One tae go, you say, but we’re goin’ bloody nowh
ere. You were right, though: Speight’s murder has bugger-all to do with the Moscardinetto killing. Why were you so sure of that?’

  ‘Stoddart told you. The time frame was wrong, in a couple of ways. They only tumbled to the film project a day or so before Leo died. If someone had broken into his house and shot him while he slept, okay, that would have been feasible, but poisoning usually takes planning; they hadn’t had the time.’

  Skinner drained his questionable coffee. ‘Whatever,’ he said, ‘that’s me out of it.’

  ‘How come? What about the insurance company? Ye’re no nearer solving their problem.’

  He grinned. ‘That will not keep me awake. That policy is real, but any insurer reckless enough to write it for a boxer deserves to pay out in full. My real brief was to establish whether Leo Speight’s death could be traced back to international organised crime. With your considerable help, I’ve established that it can’t; I don’t have a locus any longer. I can go back to my real jobs now: InterMedia and looking after my family. For that, I thank you both.’

  ‘With our considerable help,’ Mann paraphrased, taking him by surprise. ‘That being the case, how about returning the favour? You’ve been involved from the start, you know the whole story. It makes sense for you to stick around, if only as a sounding board.’

  ‘I’d be happy to, Lottie,’ he said, ‘but I’m not sure how Stirling will feel about that. I don’t think I’m flavour of the month with the DCC.’

  She showed him an uncharacteristic smile. ‘We won’t tell him if you don’t.’

  ‘In that case,’ Skinner replied, ‘remember what Gino Butler said in his interview? “Leo and I have a personal conflict of interest of sorts.” That’s where I’d go next, if I was still involved . . .’

  ‘Let’s ask him what he meant,’ the DI declared, cutting across him.

  ‘. . . but not necessarily directly,’ he concluded. ‘Go back to the first principle of cross-examination, Lottie. You know what that is: before you ask the question, it’s best to know the answer. Let me speak to someone else first, to see if I can find out.’

  Forty-Five

  ‘Good evening, sir,’ Sandra Bulloch said. ‘I didn’t expect to hear from you again; not that I mind you calling.’

  ‘How’s it working out?’ Skinner asked. ‘I left Stirling not long after you did.’

  ‘It’s good,’ his former assistant replied. ‘I’ve spoken with Leo’s lawyer; she confirms that the new will, as adjusted by his letter, is the final version. She expects it to be challenged, and she advised me to retain my own lawyer since she and the two executors have to stay neutral.’

  ‘Who does she expect to challenge it?’

  ‘My sister, on behalf of her children, who lost out slightly when I was added. Strangely, it doesn’t worry me. I don’t have children and I never will have, so Leonard and Jolene will be my heirs. Long-term they’ll be better off. Faye will want something for herself, of course . . . she and her solicitor.’

  ‘All she’ll get is what you choose to give her. What about the job front?’

  ‘I had a call from the chief constable the evening I saw you,’ Sandra told him. ‘I won’t say she was warm; no, she was formal, but she was broadly sympathetic. As of now, I’m on compassionate leave, for a month. When that’s up, we speak again. However, the possibility of disciplinary action will still be on the table. She said that was the consensus view, without revealing who else was involved in the decision.’

  ‘I think that would be DCC McGuire; Mario can be a hardliner. If you do go back to the job, it won’t be in CID, I’m afraid.’

  ‘No, I didn’t think so,’ she confessed. ‘I have a sergeant’s uniform that still fits. I might need it . . . if I go back,’ she added, ‘but I can’t think that far ahead. I’m still coming to terms with Leo being dead, and waiting for the outcome of Mann’s investigation. Do you know how it’s progressing? Has the lab finally reported?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Skinner said. ‘That’s one of many things I should have warned the justice minister about, but didn’t, when the great new era was being put together. In my time, arses would have been kicked by now, but Maggie doesn’t have the power to do that, since forensic services aren’t directly under her control. Bloody nonsense!’ he grumbled. ‘The inquiry does go on, though. You’ll read tomorrow of arrests in the Moscardinetto case. Mann and Provan were hoping that the two deaths were linked, but they’re out of luck. Leo’s investigation continues; they’re still following up existing leads and looking for new ones, which is why I’m calling you.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ve told you everything I know that’s relevant, sir.’

  ‘Probably,’ he agreed, ‘but there’s one thing I’d like to ask you.’

  ‘Err . . .’ she murmured, and he laughed.

  ‘Purely unofficially, and if Mario should ever quiz you, it was Dan Provan that called you. I’ve seen a recorded interview with Gino Butler. It was part of the project Leo had going with Moscardinetto; we know all about that now. In it, Gino says that he and Leo had a conflict of interests, on a personal level. Do you have any idea what that might have been?’

  ‘I can’t think of anything . . .’ Bulloch stopped, frowned, then continued, ‘other than the fact that my sister’s been sleeping with him for the past several months, probably longer. That’s your personal conflict of interest. Mr Skinner, did Gino know that Leo was involved in this project with Moscardinetto?’

  ‘As far as we can tell, nobody did, apart from you; and from what you said to me, not even you knew the details.’

  ‘Then he’s an idiot for not figuring it out.’

  ‘How did you know about the relationship between Butler and Faye?’

  ‘From my eight-year-old nephew. He called him “Uncle Gino” one day; I asked him where that came from and he said that was what Mummy said they should call him. He added that he stayed at their house some nights but that Mummy said Daddy wasn’t to know. I didn’t tell him, but I did square Gino up about it a few months ago. He fired right back; he said he knew about Leo and me.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘It might have been from Gordon. We were at the Blacksmith for dinner one night and we stayed over in one of the bungalows rather than go back to Ayr, or go to mine. The next morning Gordon was there, and he saw us together. He didn’t know who I was; Leo introduced me by my full name, Alexandra, but that was all. He was a very private person, so I was impressed that he did even that much. Don’t underestimate how close those two were, sir, father and grown-up son.’

  ‘They were conflicted over Gordon’s dream of being a boxer,’ Skinner told her. ‘That’s on Moscardinetto’s tape too.’

  ‘It wasn’t a conflict, just frustration. Leo told me that the only way he’d let him go into the ring would be if he thought he was better than him. As good as, that wouldn’t have been enough; he’d have had to be even better. So he schooled him, to find out, as his own father did with him. They trained together down at Ayr and they sparred. Leo said he didn’t have it; he was too gentle a lad, there was no danger in his eyes.’

  ‘I see. So you think that Gordon let your secret slip and Gino came out with it?’

  ‘Absolutely, Mexican stand-off. If I told Leo about him, he’d tell Faye about me. As it happens, I don’t think Leo would have been bothered about him screwing her, but if she’d found out about me sleeping with Leo, well, cue Hurricane Faye.’

  ‘And if she’d found out you were going to marry him?’

  ‘But she didn’t,’ Sandra insisted. ‘She couldn’t have. Even if Gino had known, which he didn’t, he’s not that stupid!’

  Forty-Six

  ‘No fucking way!’ Gino Butler shouted. ‘Suppose I had known they were going off to get married, which I didn’t, I’d never have done that to Leo. He was my mate.’

  ‘Come on,’ Mann said. ‘You were having
a relationship in front of his kids, one that they were told by their mother had to stay secret. You were quite happy to do that to him.’

  ‘She wasn’t his business any more.’

  ‘So why weren’t you frank with him? You referenced it in your interview with the Italian. We have a copy, we’ve seen it. You see your relationship with Faye as a conflict of interest. How would that have been?’

  ‘That was just a casual remark,’ he protested.

  ‘Naw,’ Dan Provan barked. ‘It was full of meaning. There was more to it than just you and she watchin’ the sunrise together. That’s what folk do, and I doubt Leo would have cared a toss about it. But if he’d known that you put Faye up to settin’ Moss Lee on him, as the two of us reckon ye did, I doubt he’d have taken kindly to that. It would have been the end of a lifelong friendship, and you’d have been kicked right off the gravy train.’

  Butler’s face flushed, and the DS knew that his inspired guess had been right on the button. ‘Why did you do it?’ he asked.

  The other man sighed. ‘I could see the gravy train was pulling into the station anyway. Leo was done with fighting, and his new career in property development wouldn’t have had a role for me. He told me as much; that business plan he had for a new fight promotion, he told me about it a while back. It was meant for Bryce and for me, he said, once he was finished with boxing. He warned me that he was moving to the Bahamas and we wouldn’t be seeing much of him in the future. I thought that would leave Faye vulnerable once the kids were grown and he stopped supporting them. The house was hers, but fuck-all else, so I told her to go to court to get some.’

  Mann tapped the top of Butler’s desk. ‘Excuse me, but did it ever occur to you just to ask Leo to make provision for her?’

  ‘If I’d done that, and he’d known about us all along – that was the thing with Leo, not much got past him – he’d have said, “Pal, you’ve made enough out of me over the years, you look after her.” And he’d have been right.’