Cutting Edge

by Bill Daly

  ‘Why did you withhold that information from us?’ Charlie demanded.

  ‘A lot of things will fall into place, Inspector, when I explain the background.’ Kenicer’s tone was patronising. ‘When the Fermanagh Freedom Fighters got the details of the handover plan for the anthrax from Bespalov, Stuart volunteered for the mission to intercept the courier. However, for that to happen, his handlers had to arrange for him to be posted to Glasgow. His hands-on training had originally been scheduled as six months in Liverpool, followed by six months in Manchester, until someone rather high up in the Met came up with the idea of fostering good relationships with their Scottish counterparts by offering to send Stuart up north for a spell. We’ve had our suspicions about that gentleman for some time.’

  ‘Do you have enough to make it stick?’ Charlie demanded.

  Kenicer laughed out loud. ‘Not at all in our interests, Inspector. Another devil we now know.’ Charlie shook his head in exasperation. ‘Stuart had a specific reason for volunteering to take on the assignment,’ Kenicer stated. ‘It was personal. He wanted to get his revenge on you.’

  Charlie’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’ he said.

  ‘He held you responsible for his father’s death.’

  Charlie stared at the loudspeaker. ‘His father?’

  ‘Does the name George Campbell mean anything to you?’ Kenicer asked.

  ‘Ye…es,’ Charlie stammered. ‘I think so. Sent him down for terrorism. Twenty-odd years ago. IRA. Not the front line stuff, he was a more of a fixer, arranging false passports, safe houses, fund raising – stuff like that.’

  ‘That’s the guy. It was twenty three years ago, to be precise. Some of the tabloids christened him George…’

  Charlie interrupted. ‘George Smiley Campbell.’ He glanced at O’Sullivan. ‘He was this little, insignificant, grey man. Like the character. He died in prison.’

  ‘He fell in the shower and cracked his head wide open – at least, that was the official explanation,’ Kenicer said. ‘No one at the time believed it was an accident. It was far more likely to have been retribution for slipping up and revealing the network. After Campbell was convicted, his pregnant wife, Agnes, was subjected to hate mail and several threats were made on her life. Eventually she packed her bags and went to live with her sister in Sussex. She reverted to her maiden name in order to make a fresh start and Agnes Stuart’s son, Malcolm, was born in Brighton.’

  ‘George Campbell’s boy?’ Charlie’s eyes widened.

  ‘Stuart’s mother told him what had happened to his father – and he held you personally responsible.’

  ‘I only gathered the evidence,’ Charlie protested. ‘It was the court and the jury that convicted him.’

  ‘That’s not how Stuart saw it. As far as he was concerned, as well as being instrumental in his father’s death, you carried the can for his mother getting some pretty scary stuff sent to her in the post. He decided to give you and your family a taste of the same medicine.’

  ‘The nine of diamonds!’ Charlie exclaimed, making eye contact with Tony. ‘The Curse of Scotland, Tony. The revenge of the Campbells!’

  ‘You cotton on fast, Inspector,’ Kenicer said. ‘That type can never resist the egotistical touch.’

  It was Hamilton who broke the stunned silence that ensued. ‘What I fail to understand, Kenicer, is that your people knew from the outset that Stuart was a Republican fanatic, yet you did nothing to prevent him coming up here and causing mayhem?’

  ‘You have to keep these things in perspective, Hamilton. We knew Stuart was a Republican sympathiser – and we knew strings had been pulled to have him assigned to Glasgow. However, we didn’t know why. Bespalov didn’t tell us he’d sold the anthrax delivery information to the FFF until after Johnston had been murdered on the train. It was only then we made the connection.’

  ‘But from that point on,’ Charlie insisted, ‘you knew the score.’

  ‘As soon as we realised it was Stuart who had taken out Johnston, I sent DI Farrell to Glasgow to search his apartment to try to recover the anthrax.’

  ‘That wouldn’t happen to be the guy Stuart disturbed trying to nick his CD player?’ O’Sullivan chipped in.

  ‘As a matter of routine, my people always remove an item of value when they break into premises. It makes it look like petty theft. Farrell had time to give Stuart’s place a thorough going over before he was disturbed. He didn’t find the anthrax, however, he did find incontrovertible proof that Stuart was responsible for the murder on the train.’

  ‘What was that?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘He found Johnston’s amputated hand in the freezer compartment of his fridge.’

  ‘Jesus!’ Charlie felt a shiver travel the length of his spine. ‘Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. You knew all along that Stuart was a Republican sympathiser. You also knew from the outset that Stuart’s real name was Campbell, so you must have figured out the Curse of Scotland connection of the nine of diamonds, but you kept us in the dark about that – even to the extent of telling us you thought it was a red herring. What was all that crap you were spouting about this investigation requiring maximum cooperation between both our organisations? You’ve been playing bloody games with us!’

  ‘I have one, and only one, priority, Anderson,’ Kenicer snapped. ‘And that’s to recover the anthrax before it can be used to cause carnage. From the moment I knew Stuart had appropriated it, my men had him under surveillance and his phone was tapped. If I’d let you know we were on to him you might have spooked him and any chance we had of recovering the anthrax would have flown out of the window.’

  ‘In which case,’ Charlie demanded, ‘what would have happened to Stuart if we hadn’t uncovered the fact that he was the serial killer?’

  ‘I dare say he’d have returned to London to continue his training, probably with a commendation from the Glasgow CID.’

  ‘This is fucking ridiculous!’ Charlie sprang to his feet. ‘You mean to say you would’ve condoned a murderer working in the Met?’ Charlie ignored Hamilton’s pained expression as he waved at him to sit down. ‘Stuart attempted to frame Sergeant O’Sullivan by planting incriminating evidence in his flat,’ Charlie persisted. ‘He tried to talk us into issuing a search warrant. What would have happened to O’Sullivan if we’d carried out a search and discovered the evidence?’

  ‘You tell me, Inspector. If you’d concluded there was a case for O’Sullivan to answer, the judicial process would’ve run its course.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have intervened?’

  ‘Be realistic. We can hardly go around knobbling judges. The most we could have done under those circumstances would have been to ensure the Home Secretary was properly briefed, if and when the case was referred to her office.’

  ‘That is fucking preposterous!’

  ‘You’re entitled to your opinion, Anderson, but my priority is national security. I need your cooperation now, Hamilton,’ Kenicer stated. ‘DI Farrell and I will be flying up to Glasgow this evening. I want to interrogate Stuart first thing in the morning to try to find out what he did with the anthrax.’

  ‘The guy’s committed four murders on our patch,’ Charlie said. ‘We’re perfectly capable of carrying out any interrogation that’s required – both about the murders and the anthrax.’

  ‘The murders are your problem, Hamilton,’ Kenicer said, ‘but as far as the anthrax is concerned, he’s more likely to talk to us.’

  ‘How do you figure that out?’ Hamilton asked.

  ‘He’s close to his sister and his mother. We can explain to him the repercussions of not cooperating more succinctly than you can.’

  Charlie’s cheeks turned scarlet and his breathing quickened. He planted his hands wide apart in the middle of Hamilton’s desk. ‘No fucking way!’ he mouthed in Hamilton’s face.

  ‘I can’t overstate the importance of this, Hamilton,’ Kenicer said. ‘There’s a consignment of anthrax in the hands of Republican t
errorists and we need to do everything in our power to recover it before they can use it. Farrell and I need to interrogate Stuart. After we’ve finished with him, you can question him all you want about the murders. Where is he being held?’

  ‘Right now, he’s in a cell in Maryhill police station,’ Hamilton said, ‘but we’ll be transferring him to the Terrorism Detention Centre in Govan this evening.’

  Charlie stretched further across the desk and stared at the microphone, his florid cheeks becoming redder by the minute. ‘Do you want to borrow our water board, Kenicer?’ he growled, ‘or will you be bringing one of your own?’

  ‘I don’t like your attitude, Inspector.’

  ‘And I don’t appreciate your high-handed approach, Kenicer,’ Hamilton interjected sharply. ‘My guys have been busting a gut trying to identify a serial killer, while all the time you were withholding vital information. It’s a bit rich expecting us to cooperate now.’ ‘I’m not asking for your cooperation, Hamilton,’ Kenicer snapped.

  ‘I’m telling you the way it’s going to be. Farrell and I will be at the detention centre in Govan at eight o’clock tomorrow morning to interview Stuart. If you’re not prepared to accede to that request, I’ll go over your head.’

  ‘Then that’s what you’re going to have to do. I won’t tolerate my people being messed about like that.’

  Muttering a curse, Kenicer broke the connection.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ Charlie said gruffly.

  ‘I don’t expect it will make one whit of difference,’ Hamilton said with a resigned shake of the head. ‘A pound to a penny the Chief will be on the line to me within five minutes, bending my ear and instructing me to toe the line.’

  *

  Half an hour later, Charlie got a phone call requesting him to go back up to Hamilton’s office.

  ‘As expected,’ Hamilton said as Charlie walked in. ‘Kenicer and Farrell will get their own way.’

  ‘I want to be present while they interrogate Stuart,’ Charlie said.

  ‘That isn’t on. You heard what they said. They’re insisting on talking to Stuart on their own.’

  ‘In which case, I want a go at Stuart as soon as they’re through with him.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What did you just say?’ Charlie’s tone was incredulous.

  ‘I said – no, Anderson. You’re too personally involved in this to be objective.’

  ‘But I’m the SIO!’

  ‘I will handle the interview myself,’ Hamilton stated.

  ‘For Christ’s sake! There are a load of questions to which I need answers!’

  ‘Write them down – and I’ll ask them.’

  As soon as Charlie got back to his office he called Grace’s number and asked to speak to Kay.

  ‘It’s over, love. We’ve got him.’

  ‘Thank God for that! Was it Terry McKay?’ Kay asked.

  ‘He was involved, but it’s complicated. I’ll tell you all about it tonight.’

  ‘Does that mean I can go home now?’

  ‘Yes. Call Sue and let her know she can go home too. There are a few loose ends I need to tie up here. I’ll get home as soon as I can.’

  Charlie looked up Mhairi Orr’s office number, and dialled.

  ‘There’s no need to spend any more time on the case, Doctor,’ Charlie said. ‘We’ve got him.’

  ‘That’s a relief!’ Mhairi said. ‘Did the same person commit all four murders?’

  ‘One person was responsible for the first three, but Brady’s murder was a copycat.’

  ‘Was it one of the guys on your list?’

  ‘No. It was someone who wasn’t even on our radar. He has no track record. There’s no way your computer module could have picked him up.’

  ‘From a professional point of view, I’m pleased about that.’

  ‘But ten out of ten for your analysis. Ruthless, intelligent, arrogant and self-confident, with a massive chip on his shoulder, sums him up perfectly.

  ‘I must say,’ Charlie added, ‘that, even though it didn’t give us a result this time round, I was impressed by the way your software was able to pick up James McKendrick in Central Station.’

  ‘It is a powerful tool, Inspector.’

  ‘I may well be requesting your assistance again in the not too distant future.’

  ‘Any time.’ Mhairi smiled at her phone as Charlie disconnected.

  Charlie buzzed through to Pauline. ‘Find Tony O’Sullivan and ask him to come to my office.’

  A few minutes later, Tony stuck his head round the door. ‘You wanted to see me?’

  ‘I’ve got a bone to pick with you,’ Charlie said, crumpling his plastic coffee cup in his fist and dropping it into the waste paper basket. ‘And I’m warning you. I’ve had just about all the crap I can take for one day, so I don’t want any more from you.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I want the truth. Where did you slope off to last Thursday when you claimed to have gone to Crosshouse Hospital on a wild goose chase?’

  Tony gave Charlie a puzzled look. ‘I didn’t slope off anywhere. I went to Crosshouse, like I said.’

  ‘Don’t give me that nonsense! I want to know where you went. Who were you shagging? Was it Kylie?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake!’ Charlie slammed his fist down on his intercom button. ‘Pauline, get Crosshouse Hospital on the line for me. Straight away.’ Tony gazed at the floor until the phone buzzed a few moments later. Charlie snatched up the receiver. ‘Is that Crosshouse reception?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is DCI Anderson of Glasgow CID. Could you please tell me who’s on duty this afternoon?’

  ‘Me, Tracey Strang, and Maurice Struthers.’

  ‘How long are you on for?’

  ‘Another couple of hours.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Charlie cut the connection. ‘Come on, you,’ he said, pulling himself to his feet. ‘You and I are going for a drive.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence all the way down the motorway to Kilmarnock. When they pulled up in the car park outside Crosshouse Hospital, Tony unclipped his seat belt and turned in his seat to face Charlie. ‘Are you going to tell me what this is all about?’

  ‘Come with me!’ Charlie instructed, flinging open his door and getting out of the car.

  Charlie marched up to the reception desk with Tony following close behind. He flashed his ID. ‘DCI Anderson, Glasgow CID,’ he said. ‘I called earlier. Are you Maurice Struthers?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you recognise this man?’ Charlie asked, stepping aside.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Maurice said, looking dubious. ‘Should I know you?’

  ‘My name’s O’Sullivan. I came here last week looking for my mother.’

  ‘Of course!’

  ‘You do know him?’ Charlie spluttered, pointing at Tony.

  ‘I wouldn’t say I know him,’ Maurice said. ‘I met him last week when he came here looking for a Doctor – was it a Doctor Nelson?’

  ‘Wilson,’ Tony said.

  ‘Wilson. That’s right. Something about your mother having been involved in a hit and run accident, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How is your mother?’

  ‘She’s fine. It turned out to be a false alarm.’

  ‘Why did you claim to know nothing about this when Lorna phoned you on Monday?’ Charlie demanded.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I came here on Monday when Lorna was on duty. She told me she didn’t know anything about a man coming here and making enquiries about a Doctor Wilson last Thursday.’

  ‘There must be some mistake. Lorna and I spent fifteen minutes ringing round to see if Mr O’Sullivan’s mother had been admitted to an A&E department in one of the other hospitals in the district.’

  ‘So why did Lorna deny all knowledge of it? Why did you deny all knowledge of
it when she phoned you on Monday?’

  ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Lorna didn’t phone me on Monday.’ Maurice frowned ‘We are talking about the same person?’ he said. ‘Lorna Campbell?’

  ‘Did you say Lorna Campbell?’ Charlie sucked his breath in hard and straightened his tie knot. ‘Could you give me her address, please.’

  ‘I don’t have it. You’d have to talk to the admin. manager. Her office is down the corridor,’ he said, pointing. ‘It’s the second door on the left.’

  When Charlie rang the door bell of the semi-detached house on the outskirts of Ayr, Lorna Campbell came to the door. She shrank back when she saw who was standing on her doorstep.

  ‘I think you have some explaining to do, Miss Campbell,’ Charlie stated.

  ‘I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Honestly!’ she pleaded. ‘It was supposed to be just for a joke.’

  ‘I don’t see anyone laughing,’ Charlie said.

  ‘Malcolm asked me do it for him – as a favour.’

  ‘Malcolm Stuart?’ Lorna nodded. ‘Are you two related?’

  ‘He’s my cousin. He told me he was going to send someone down to the hospital last Thursday – and that the guy would be looking for a Doctor Wilson. He said he just wanted to get him out of the way for a couple of hours so he could do up his flat for a surprise birthday party.’

  ‘So you didn’t phone Maurice Struthers while I was at Crosshouse on Monday morning?’

  Lorna bit her bottom lip. ‘I panicked when you showed me your ID.’ Her voice was trembling. ‘I had no idea the police would be involved. I just pretended to call Maurice,’ she said in a hushed voice. ‘I didn’t actually click onto any number.’