In Place of Death

by Craig Robertson

  ‘Yes! It was an accident. I swear.’

  Doull was red-faced with frustration. ‘Don’t say another word! This interview is suspended until I speak to my client. I insist.’

  Narey looked to Addison who stood up, smiling, and spoke to the tape. ‘Interview suspended . . . again . . . at 14.56. Doull, maybe you can find out what else he hasn’t told you and then we might not have to stop every five minutes. I’m going to the pub at six.’

  The lawyer scowled but said nothing.

  On their return, McCormack was sitting pale and clearly rattled. When the tape was restarted, they found he’d changed his tune again.

  ‘I went to the Odeon with Jennifer Cairns on the night she died.’

  ‘Why were you there?’ Narey gave him no time to relax.

  McCormack glanced at Doull who nodded. ‘We went there to explore the building.’

  ‘You’re an urbexer. An urban explorer.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And why did you take Mrs Cairns along?’

  ‘I . . . she wanted to know what it was like. I’d told her what I did.’

  ‘Showing off? Playing the big man?’

  ‘DI Narey—’

  ‘It’s okay. Yes, maybe that. But she was interested. Excited. She wanted to try it. So I took her to the Odeon. She enjoyed it. She liked the fact we were in there all alone. No one could know we were in there. Especially her husband. His . . . our offices were just a few hundred yards away and yet—’

  ‘Did you have sex in there?’

  He hesitated before nodding.

  ‘Out loud, please, Mr McCormack.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, we had sex. Being in there . . . it turned us on. We had sex. It was natural.’

  ‘That’s so lovely. It didn’t stay very lovely though, did it? You began arguing, is that right?’

  More hesitation. Tears began rolling down the man’s face.

  ‘We argued. We had a fight. About telling Douglas. I didn’t want . . . it wasn’t that I wanted her to leave him there and then but maybe one day. That was all. She lost it. Began shouting and screaming. Completely irrational. She started to run and slipped on the stairs. She hit her head. Twice. From one step to the next.’

  No one else in the room said a word. They all just looked at McCormack.

  ‘That’s what happened. I didn’t do it. She fell.’

  ‘She hit two steps?’ Narey asked. ‘Are you sure it was two?’

  ‘Yes I . . .’ McCormack froze mid-sentence. ‘Maybe not. I’m not sure. It all happened very quickly.’

  ‘So maybe more? Or maybe fewer?’

  ‘Don’t answer, David.’ Doull put an arm out in front of his client, part protection, part speech barrier.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ McCormack repeated. ‘I was in shock.’

  ‘Right. Of course you were. Let’s leave that for now. But we will come back to it. Maybe once you’ve had a chance to think of a number. What did you do next? You didn’t phone for an ambulance and the police. Why not?’

  ‘I panicked. I was scared. I covered her up and I got out of there. I know it was wrong but I didn’t know what to do. After I’d left it was too late. Anyway, it wasn’t going to bring Jen back. It wouldn’t have helped anyone.’

  ‘It might have helped your partner. He was left with no idea of what had happened to his wife. He was left not knowing her body was rotting away just that few hundred yards from his office.’

  McCormack’s head fell to his chest, as if he was unable to face it or her.

  ‘Look at me, Mr McCormack. Please.’ He did so. ‘Did anyone see you leaving the building? Did you then or later discover that anyone knew you’d been there?’

  He looked her straight in the eye the way people do when they are lying and trying to convince you otherwise. ‘No. At least if anyone did then I never knew about it.’

  ‘Okay. Do you or did you know a man named Euan Hepburn? Don’t bother looking at your lawyer, Mr McCormack. He doesn’t know whether you knew Euan Hepburn or not. Only you know that. So, did you?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I may have met him through urbexing but we don’t always know someone else’s real name so I can’t be sure.’

  Deniability. She knew that was the game he was playing. And he’d play it again.

  ‘What about Remy Feeks? Did you know him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You really don’t seem to know very much, Mr McCormack.’

  ‘DI Narey—’

  ‘Do you think you ever met Remy Feeks?’

  ‘I might have done, yes.’

  ‘And where do you think you might have met him?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  Narey nodded and nibbled at her lip. She made a show of looking down and checking her notes. ‘Were you in Oran Mor last week, Mr McCormack?’

  She saw the reaction in his eyes. Surprise. He began to turn towards his lawyer but he stopped himself and took a breath instead.

  ‘Yes I was.’

  Now it was Doull’s turn to react. He again didn’t know where the questioning was going and he didn’t like it. Narey saw him on edge and ready to dive in. She’d make sure she beat him to it.

  ‘Why were you there, Mr McCormack?’

  ‘I was having a drink with some friends.’

  ‘Friends?’

  ‘Acquaintances. I didn’t know all of them.’

  ‘Was Remy Feeks among them?’

  He tugged at his collar, his hands betraying him. ‘I can’t be sure.’

  ‘Was there a man among your group of acquaintances who identified himself as Remy Feeks?’

  The question seemed to prove difficult. McCormack deliberated, weighing up his options and finding that he had none.

  ‘Yes. I think there was. I barely spoke to him though.’

  ‘Mr Feeks was murdered in the grounds of the former Gray Dunn biscuit factory. Are you familiar with that site? Have you heard of it?’

  ‘I think so, yes. I’m an architect. I know buildings.’

  ‘Uh huh. You know buildings. Do you also know the Molendinar Burn?

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘So you know of the Gray Dunn building, you know of the Molendinar, you admit you were in the Odeon. These are all known urbexing sites, are they not, Mr McCormack?’

  He shrugged. ‘Yes, I suppose they are.’

  ‘You suppose. You know they are. Here’s what I think happened. You left Mrs Cairns’ body in the Odeon and on the way out you were seen by Mr Hepburn who was also there to explore the building before it was demolished. You either saw him and knew he’d seen you or you later found out he’d been there at the same time.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You knew he could put you at the scene of the death and you were scared.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘You befriended Mr Hepburn through the OtherWorld site. We know you had two aliases on the site, Spook, which you’d used before, and JohnDivney, which you created exclusively to talk to Hepburn. You went urbexing with him then either you or he suggested exploring the Molendinar, probably you. You both went down there and you murdered him, leaving him there because you thought he’d never be found.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Say nothing, Mr McCormack.’ Doull looked fit to burst.

  ‘You thought that might be the end of it but then Hepburn’s body was found and suddenly people were asking questions, other urbexers sticking their noses in. You knew Remy Feeks found the body, you wondered what else he knew. You were terrified now. Two bodies on your hands. You couldn’t take the risk and you killed Feeks as well. Am I right?’

  McCormack looked to Doull and then turned back, his mouth stuck firmly shut and his eyes wide. The lawyer looked like he’d taken a few punches along with his client and he’d had enough.

  ‘My client is exercising his right to silence and will continue to do so. This interview is over.’

  Chapter 57

  Wednesday morning

  The buzz had gone fr
om the incident room. The buzz had gone from the whole team.

  McCormack had been given bail.

  Addison had taken the call from the Procurator Fiscal’s office and relayed the bad news first to Narey then the rest of the team. The Fiscal wasn’t convinced they had the physical evidence to justify holding McCormack in custody. He was pleading guilty to leaving the scene of a crime but not the three murder charges they’d stuck on him. His passport had been taken from him and he was not considered a flight risk. He would face trial but wasn’t being held on remand.

  It was a body blow to every one of them. The adrenalin-induced elation of getting their man was gone, replaced by disgust at him being allowed home and having perhaps months before a trial. Worse, there was a gnawing fear that he might never be convicted for the murders of Hepburn and Feeks.

  Everyone was in a bad mood, not least Narey. She knew she was grouching at people when it wasn’t their fault but it didn’t stop her from doing it. She snapped at Maxell and shouted at Toshney. She later did both with Addison as if to prove she wasn’t just taking it out on the ranks.

  Doors were being slammed everywhere; a despondency spread through the building and threatened arguments wherever it went. They’d already started anew on making sure they could find sufficient evidence to guarantee a conviction in court but it couldn’t take away the frustration in the meantime. They knew he’d killed all three and it stuck in everyone’s throats.

  Which is partly why Rico Giannandrea found himself in danger of being lynched when he came into the incident room with a smile on his face and a whistled tune on his breath. The DS was a naturally buoyant character, laid-back and taking the world as it came, but this time it wasn’t appreciated. Misery loves company, not a cheer.

  ‘What the hell are you so happy about?’ DS Lewis McTeer was still hanging around like a bad smell. Given that everyone else was pissed off, it was inevitable that miserable sod would be even more unhappy than the rest. Rico wouldn’t be dissuaded by a prat like McTeer though.

  ‘Happiness that lasts too long spoils the heart, eh, McTeer? No danger of that happening to you.’

  ‘What? You taking the piss?’ McTeer was itching for a fight.

  Rico just smiled and spread his arms wide. ‘Old Italian proverb that my granny used to say. Don’t worry, be happy.’

  Narey wasn’t going to side with McTeer but neither was she up for light-hearted banter. ‘Leave him, Rico. No one’s in the mood.’

  ‘Well I am,’ Giannandrea countered. ‘And while it’s not going to make up for McCormack walking, it might just put a smile on a couple of miserable faces.’

  If he meant hers, then Narey wasn’t going to take it well. But she was listening. ‘What have you got?’

  ‘You asked me to look into a company called Orient Development. Told me to see if they were full of Eastern promise.’

  She’d almost forgotten amidst everything else that had been going on.

  ‘Well, as you probably suspected I would, I found connections to Saturn Property. Johnny Jackson and I did some digging and found links between Orient and both Valhalla Homes and Hastings Developments. Directors of Orient include Barbara, wife of Dominic Hastings, and June, wife of Valhalla’s Jason Grieve. The husbands being barred from taking directorships. The day to day running of Orient is done by one Mark Singleton. They and Saturn are basically the same company.’

  Now she was interested.

  ‘We went to Saturn’s office in Skypark and there on the wall was a framed artist’s impression of Orient’s planned development in the East End. Full of Eastern promise.’

  ‘So two companies are owned by the same people,’ McTeer sneered. ‘So what?’

  Narey thought she had already figured it out, or at least what she’d do from there, but it was Rico’s show and she was content to leave the stage to him.

  ‘Well, Lewis, my happy little friend, so what is that it gave us two seemingly different companies that had put the frighteners on at least two tenants to leave their properties so they could be demolished. Archie Feeks and Walter McMeekin. Neither wanted to stand up on their own. Thought no one would listen to them. But together?’

  ‘Walter’s going to do it?’ Narey was smiling but could barely believe it.

  ‘He’s already done it, boss. He and Archie Feeks both gave statements and descriptions of the man who intimidated them. In both cases the threat to burn them out of their homes was implicit but unlikely to stand up in court. Together, it’s much stronger. And we got photofits done from both of them and the two images could be twins.’

  ‘Anyone we know?’

  ‘Yep. A fire-starter by the name of Martin Tully. Jacko says this guy is reckoned to be the best in the business. The insurance companies and our guys have been after him for a few years and never been able to lay a finger on him. Now we have something. We’re going to haul him in and squeeze his nuts till he decides whether he goes down or Singleton does. I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Walter isn’t going to make the most reliable witness. Saturn’s lawyers will go gunning for him.’

  ‘I know. Which is why I was hoping we could get him out of the Rosewood and into somewhere better. Let’s face it, anywhere would be better. And maybe encourage him to lay off the drink or at least cut it back.’

  Narey ran her hand through her hair as she thought about it

  ‘That might be easier said than done. Let me go speak to him. And I’ll try Malcolm Colvin at the City Mission. He knows Walter and should be able to help. That’s great work, Rico. Terrific. You hear that, McTeer? A reason for even you to smile.’

  ‘Yeah. Great.’ McTeer’s face called his words a liar.

  ‘Well if you can’t smile then beat it. Go on, find some work to do somewhere else.’

  ‘If you say it’s important, hen, then I’ll do it. If I can. I’m no promising anything though. I’ve been drinking for a long time. I’ve got too good at it.’

  ‘I’m not looking for miracles, Walter. I know it’s a big ask. But if you try, that’s good enough for me. I figured that if we get you into a better place then you’ll just maybe have one reason for staying sober a bit longer.’

  The old man smiled at her, his eyes crinkling round the edges. ‘I’ll not be sad to leave the Rosewood though. I’ve been in there near enough a year. That might be a new record to be there that long and still be breathing.’

  She laughed, seeing something of her dad in him, probably not for the first time. A thought occurred to her.

  ‘Do you follow football, Walter?’

  He shrugged. ‘Not so much these days. The game’s all about money. Average players earning millions, it’s ridiculous. But aye, I like the football. Why?’

  She hesitated. ‘It depends. Who do you support?’

  He narrowed his eyes as he tried to work out what she was after. ‘I’m thinking I should say Partick Thistle so as no to ruin something.’

  ‘Ha. No, tell me who you support.’

  ‘I’m a Celtic man. Always have been.’

  ‘Ah that might be a problem. But then again it might just be perfect. My dad’s a Rangers fan, you see.’

  ‘Och I’m no a bigot, hen. I’d argue with anybody.’

  ‘Well, good. How would you fancy spending some time with my dad? Say once a week, to see how it goes. Just a cup of tea and a chat about football. I think it would help him.’

  Walter shrugged again, easy with the world. ‘Sure, why no? Is he no keeping too well?’

  ‘Alzheimer’s.’

  ‘Och that’s a sin. Count me in, hen. If you think it will help then I’ll tell him all about how his team’s been cheating mine for years.’

  She had a tear in her eye as she bent over and kissed him on the cheek.

  Chapter 58

  Wednesday evening

  Narey and Winter were in the back room of the Station Bar on Port Dundas Road, a Guinness and a vodka and tonic in front of them. The bar was quiet and they had the raised re
ar area to themselves. It was a mixed blessing because although they didn’t want to be overheard, they were having this discussion in the pub rather than at home as it would reduce the chance of them shouting at each other.

  It was the first opportunity they’d had to sit down and talk about it. About them.

  Just less than forty-eight hours since Winter had scaled the tower and McCormack had walked into the trap they’d set for him. Two days of interviews and legal argument, elation and frustration. Two days in which they’d been able to do nothing more than hug each other. He was drained and she was working furiously. Catching her man was one thing, keeping him was another.

  Rico’s work with Orient and Saturn had managed to take the edge off her exasperation at McCormack’s bail and her talk with Walter had put a smile on her face. She was ready for this conversation, even if Tony wasn’t.

  ‘Look, it’s worked out fine. We got him and you’ll put him away in court. Can’t we just leave it at that?’

  ‘No. We need to talk about it.’

  ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘Of course you’d rather not. It means talking about emotion and feelings. And you’d rather run a mile than do that. But sometimes you have to. Like now.’

  He drew deep on his Guinness and nodded glumly. ‘Okay. Go.’

  She shook her head, knowing she was probably going to have to do all the work, but fine, it was better than it not being done. ‘Okay. Do you understand why I was so angry with you when I found out what you’d been doing?’

  He sighed. ‘Yes I do. But do you realize it was a two-way thing? I was angry too.’

  She let out an incredulous gasp. ‘The difference is that I had a reason to be angry. You’d gone behind my back, broken the law, risked your life, endangered my investigation and risked everything we had together. And you knew you were doing all that.’

  He tilted his head to one side and blew out air. ‘But apart from that, what have the Romans ever done for us, right? Okay . . . I get it. I really do. And I didn’t want to do any of those things. I wasn’t thinking about the consequences, only what I felt I had to do.’

  ‘But—’