Condition Purple

by Peter Turnbull

  ‘Anything of interest?’ asked Sussock. He felt tired. The graveyard shift was no type of work for a man of his years, and as always the last few hours of the shift were the longest as the building seemed to quieten, to enter a lull, as the clocks ticked and dragged towards 7.00 a.m.

  ‘A keyring, Building Society passbook, nice comfortable balance there.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Abernethy handed Sussock the passbook and Sussock said, ‘Wow!’ Toni Durham had enough money to buy three or four ‘desirable’ west end properties outright and still have money left over to furnish each.

  ‘Be interesting to pin down the source of that income, Sarge, but I reckon it has something to do with her being a Ms Fix-it.’

  Abernethy took the passbook as Sussock handed it to him,

  ‘Be very interesting,’ said Sussock. then: ‘You’re looking pale, son.’

  ‘Didn’t want it to show.’ Abernethy patted a folder which also lay on his desk. ‘Photographs sent up by the scene of crime officer, Sarge. Shows Toni Durham, or what’s left of her. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have, some years before, about the time that you would be running round in short trousers, and I saw Toni Durham’s body at the pathology lab just now. It’s just like the photograph except it’s three-dimensional, five and a half feet long, and it smells.’

  ‘Smells? Of blood?’

  ‘Of dried blood, of human gases and it smelled of death, despite being washed down with alcohol. Did you know that death has a smell, son?’

  Abernethy confessed that he did not.

  ‘You’ve seen a dead body, though?’

  ‘Yes, Sarge, every cop has, a visit to a mortuary is part of basic training. A car smash I attended, two car accidents in fact, some badly damaged human beings in there, but even the car smashes were not as bloody as this.’ He patted the envelope.

  ‘But you’ve never smelled death. The mortuary is sanitized, the car smash victims were just too new. Death smells like dried leaves but it has a sweet property among the mustiness, it’s difficult to describe but once you’ve smelled it you’ll never forget it and you’ll always recognize it again, and all human beings smell the same at their death—young, old, rich, poor, man, woman—they all leave the same legacy. The smell was the last thing Toni Durham left behind her and if she was running with Jimmy Purdue and had accumulated this sort of money then she will have left little else of note behind her.’

  ‘You know Jimmy “the Rodent” Purdue?’

  ‘Yes. It’s what I meant a minute ago when I said I’d seen victims as messy as Miss Durham while you were in short trousers. Toni Durham’s body has all the hallmarks of an attack by Purdue. I should know, I’ve seen his handiwork before. I helped put him away when I was a fresh cop. He got ten years and I said then that he was a State Hospital number and if we can pin this murder on him then he will definitely be a Carstairs inmate. I’m a spit short of my pension and I’ll bet it, even money, that he did this. I mean, if anyone is criminally insane, it’s Jimmy “the Rodent” Purdue. I’m going to start looking for him; being a known associate of the deceased is a good enough reason to start.’

  ‘Oh, you’ve got more than that, Sarge.’ Abernethy tapped the phone which stood on his desk. ‘While you were at the pathology lab attending the post mortem, criminal records phoned with information. They’ve identified one set of prints which Elliot Bothwell lifted from the locus of the offence as belonging to your man Purdue.’

  Sussock smiled. ‘That’s good enough for me.’

  ‘It’ll be even better when I tell you where one of Purdue’s many latents was found: on the wall in Toni Durham’s blood. The blood has been identified as the same blood group as the deceased’s and the latent is apparently so deeply indented in the blood that he had to have been there when the blood was still tacky, he was there during the assault, that’s the point that Forensic makes, passed on to us through criminal records. It’s not on a bloodless piece of plaster so he can’t say he was there before the assault, it wasn’t left on dried blood so he can’t argue he was there after the assault took place. It’s a clear left thumbprint, apparently pushed deep into wet blood. It means he was there during the assault.’

  Sussock grunted. ‘He’s nailed. With that alone he’s nailed.’

  ‘All we need to do is find him.’

  ‘We’ll just need to be methodical. The city’s full of rat holes and he’ll be in one of them. I reckon the first post of call is Toni Durham’s flat. We have a set of house keys and an address in the Building Society book. Grab your coat, this will kill the shift for us.’

  Abernethy grabbed his coat, amazed at the sudden transformation in Sussock. The man who had shuffled up to his desk ten minutes ago was now like a terrier with a bone.

  Toni Durham’s flat was a ground-floor five apartment in a prestigious street close to Great Western Road, opposite the Botanical Gardens. There was a small, neatly tended front garden and a gravel pathway leading up the side of the building to the front door. The curtains inside the property were open. Sussock rang the doorbell. As he listened to the bell chime inside the house he noticed just one name on the door: Durham. He said, ‘She doesn’t share with anybody.’

  ‘So what does she do with all this space?’ Abernethy glanced along the length of the side of the property.

  An orange bus hurried down Great Western Road towards the traffic lights at the top of Byres Road. A milk-float rattled up the incline towards the Hyndland turn-off’. The sun was already well over the rooftops, it was a warm, clean morning, promising a hot, hot day.

  ‘Nobody at home,’ said Sussock, and took the bunch of keys which had been found in Toni Durham’s handbag from his jacket pocket.

  Toni Durham did not just live in the five apartment flat, according to a rates demand issued the previous April and still lying on the hall table, she was the householder. Not only was she the householder, but she was a householder who could apparently afford to decorate the property in a manner which afforded her every indulgence. She favoured light pastel shades and soft furnishings, deep pile carpets, pictured wallpaper, Chinese lantern lampshades. Fronds of pampas spraying from a large cream-coloured urn, a light brown, old-fashioned style, but very modern telephone. Very chic, very feminine. The sun streamed in through the tall, tall windows picking out flecks of dust in the air.

  ‘Dead,’ said Sussock.

  ‘Sarge?’

  ‘This house, it’s dead. It’s not lived in. It’s like something out of the Ideal Homes Exhibition.’ Sussock had experienced a momentary pang of envy as he entered Toni Durham’s flat, but after only a few minutes inside he could safely say he would prefer, vastly prefer, to spend time in his cramped, noisy bedsitter. The little things out of place made it lived in. ‘Mind you, I’d like to know where little Miss Durham got the money to buy this property and furnish it like this. Just look at the hi-fi she has.’

  ‘And a telephone-answering machine, I mean, she just had to have…’ Abernethy’s voice failed as both he and Sussock realized the significance of the green flashing light on the answering machine.

  Sussock strode across the carpet and pressed the ‘message’ button on the machine. The cops stood, listening, to the accumulated recordings.

  ‘Hello, Toni, this is Mother…’

  ‘She’ll need to be told,’ grunted Sussock.

  ‘…we were wondering if you’re coming round this Sunday. You know that we’d like to see you. Give us a call, hen. Bye.’

  The machine gave a loud, piercing ‘beep’.

  ‘The garage here. Miss Durham. Just to let you know your car’s sorted. You can collect it any time.’

  beep

  ‘Gary at the travel agent’s, we’ve got all the details you required for your Canada trip…and details of the side trips you wanted to make…er…you’ll need a visa if you want to visit the States…we can fix that for you if you’d like to ring me back. Right, that’s me. Bye.’ />
  beep

  ‘Aye, you and your fancy wee toys, hen…

  ‘Purdue,’ Sussock hissed. ‘I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Hard as concrete. Cold as ice.’

  ‘…see, we’ve got a wee problem with that Craigellachie girl. The one you brought round and said was OK. She’s talking. And she’s lifted a ton of smack. We need to sort it out. Meet me tonight, junction at Minerva Street and Argyle Street. Tonight. Just be there.’

  ‘That’s close to where she was found,’ said Sussock. ‘He must have taken her to the derelict building and filled her in.’

  ‘Dates these messages,’ said Abernethy. ‘They’re up to ten days old at the beginning.’

  beep

  ‘It’s Mum again, pet. Just giving you a ring.’

  beep

  ‘The garage again. Miss Durham. Called you two days ago and left a message on your machine. Can you collect your car, please? It’s all sorted. Thanks.’

  beep

  ‘Sonia from the parlour. Just wondering if you’d fancy a drink and a blether? Phone me. Bye.’

  beep

  ‘Toni, it’s Stephanie…’

  Abernethy and Sussock glanced at each other.

  ‘…see, that guy with the Mercedes, he pulled me off the street, took me to a house…he gave me a doing, Toni…I need to see you…the guy’s mad…see his eyes, just burning into me…please contact me at my flat…please.’

  So, thought Sussock, that’s what Stephanie Craigellachie sounded like, a thin high-pitched voice. But she was frightened. His voice would be thin and high-pitched if he was frightened.

  beep

  ‘Toni, Stephanie again. I phoned this morning…will you call round, or maybe contact me on the street, you know where my pitch is. See, that guy Purdue, he said he’s going to find you…take care, he’ll likely give you a good tanking as well. I’m scared, look after yourself. What’s happening, Toni? That’s my ten pence…’

  beep

  ‘The garage, Miss Durham. If you don’t collect your car I’ll have to take it off the premises and leave it in the street. I haven’t the room to keep it.’

  beep

  ‘Gary at the travel agent’s. If you’d like to call and see me, Miss Durham, I have all the details of your Canada trip.’

  beep

  ‘It’s Stephanie. You going to contact me? I’m scared. I’m told that that guy Purdue’s looking for me. So I daren’t go on the street for a while, even if the other girls keep the edge for me, they’ve got work to do, can’t keep a lookout all the time, I’ll need more smack soon, that load you gave me is running low…it’s good stuff, where did you get it? Can you get some more? Please…’

  beep

  ‘This is your father. Listen, I’m not bothered if I don’t see you again, you wee bitch, you should get married and have kids like your sisters, that would sort you out. We don’t know what you’re doing, never see you from one month to the next, then you drop in with your fancy clothes and your flash motor. Just call your mother. It’s been three weeks now, she’s getting worried, and she’ll no give me peace because she’s fretting about you. I was too soft with you. I let you away with too much because you were the youngest. That was my mistake. Phone her, preferably when I’m at work.’

  beep

  ‘The garage. I’m having to leave your car on the street as from tonight, Miss Durham.’

  beep

  ‘Toni, it’s Stephanie. They’re saying Purdue’s after me because I half-inched his smack. Toni, that bag of smack you gave me, it was his, wasn’t it, you bitch, you cow. You lifted it from him and gave it to me. He thinks I nicked it. He’s going to kill me now because of you and I’ve got nowhere to hide. It’s almost shot now, then I’ll have to go back on the street to get more money…and they’re saying I’ve been shouting my mouth off about what you and Purdue do in your basement…’

  The cops looked at each other.

  ‘…Toni, I never said nothing to nobody. You’ve done for me, you cow. You’ve stitched me up proper. What for? I done nothing to you. If I get the chance I’m going to tell him, but he’ll not listen…he’s mad.’

  beep

  ‘This is your father. Call your mother, you slag.’

  beep

  ‘Toni, that’s the smack shot. I’m having to go on to the street again. Don’t know why I’m telling you. Just tell Purdue it wasn’t me that stole his smack.’

  beep

  ‘It’s Mum. Call me, love. Dad said he phoned. I know what he can be like, don’t take it personal. He’ll not be home till the back of six each weekday, call me any time before five and we can have a blether. I don’t want to go on at you, dear, but a quick hello wouldn’t take up too much of your time. I mean, it’s been a good few weeks now and you could be lying dead somewhere…oh, I shouldn’t say things like that. Just give me a ring. Bye.’

  beep

  ‘Gary at the travel shop…er, just to say you’ll need to pay up the balance of your trip in the next two weeks, otherwise we’ll have to let the tickets go. Just call in if you’re passing. If I’m not in tell anyone that they’re in my desk…that’s Gary’s desk. Bye.’

  beep

  ‘Toni, it’s Stephanie…are you all right? One of the girls on the street…no, it was Sonia who works the parlour…said that guy Purdue pulled her last night, he was steaming drunk, said he’d filled you in…Toni, you OK? He said he was looking for me too. I’m scared. I can’t earn money by hanging in the shadows…and I need a fix, I’m getting strung out. I’m getting bad, that stuff you gave me was good stuff, I’m going to be real bad this time if I don’t get another fix. I’ll need to go on the street tonight, earn a big wad, anything they want me to do tonight, but Purdue’s going to cool me if I go out, I’ll try and wait till it’s dark, work the casinos…Toni, I won’t tell him nothing if you can get me some horse. I didn’t mean what I said when I said I’d shop you to Purdue. He can give me all the doings he wants if you can let me have more of that horse. I’ll be on the street tonight, opposite the bank near the building site. Please, Toni.’

  beep

  ‘Toni, it’s Sonia, Sonia from the parlour. I’d have called earlier but I couldn’t get away. Listen, I ran into that guy Purdue, blitzed out of his mind. He was legless, I mean miraculous…he hadn’t even got half a brain left. He said he’d done you in and was looking for that girl Craigellachie, was she that girl you brought here, Toni? Jesus, woman, she’s just a kid, what have you got her mixed up in, Toni? Pulling schoolgirls for your films now, this’ll need some talking about, even people like me have a code of honour. I’ve got people I can call on to carve you if you deserve it. Just remember that.’

  beep

  The tape rewound, back to the beginning. Sussock took the cassette from the machine and slipped it into his jacket pocket. ‘Interesting reference to the basement,’ he said.

  ‘Intriguing,’ said Abernethy.

  The entrance to the basement eluded the cops until they noticed that an area of floor close to the kitchen sounded hollow when walked on. It sounded even hollower when Sussock stamped his foot on the area. They lifted the carpet and revealed a trapdoor.

  The basement they found ran the whole length and breadth of the house with an identical configuration of rooms, effectively doubling the floor area of the property. The ceiling was low, only about eight feet above the floor, but affording sufficient room for both cops to be able to walk upright. The basement had been re-floored and the walls had been plastered smoothly and painted white. Lighting had been installed and additional powerful lamps stood on chrome poles in each of the doorless ‘rooms’. Two of the rooms had double beds, both with crumpled sheets, another had a settee and a table, another room seemed to have been made into a gymnasium with benches and wall bars. A wooden chest contained items of female clothing fashioned out of leather and PVC. In the smallest room cameras were stored and wall racks contained row upon row of blank video tapes still in the manufacturer’s cellophane wrapp
ing. Others, of equal number, had been used and were stocked in date order.

  ‘Imagine,’ said Sussock. ‘Movie moguls beavering away in fair Glasgow town and we never knew about it.’

  ‘Amazing,’ said Abernethy.

  The man lay in bed next to his heavy wife. He was awake, watching the early morning sun stream in through the net curtains of their bedroom. Dawn had come to Newton Mearns.

  She even whistled in her sleep. He thought she must inhabit such a perfect world, never seeing anything of life for what it was. Just pretty things.

  There was an awful loneliness in his life and he wondered if he went to town in the evening then perhaps this time he’d see Stephanie. Perhaps she’d been ill for a few days. That would explain it.

  Chapter 8

  Thursday, 08.45-12.17 hours

  Donoghue reached forward and replenished his cup from the silver-plated coffee jar which stood on his desk. The coffee at the beginning of the working day was part of his morning routine; it eased, as he was fond of saying, the mechanics of the shift hand-over. He raised the pot. ‘Ray?’

  Sussock sat forward in his chair, extended his hand, holding his own mug while Donoghue refilled it. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said. He was bleary-eyed. Donoghue was fresh-faced and had already taken his jacket off, but had declined to loosen the knot of his tie. Sussock sat in his baggy, sack-like sports jacket and cradled his mug of coffee in both hands. Ordinarily he found the shift hand-overs tedious especially if he was going off duty and Donoghue, coming on duty, was keen to ‘kick around’ points of trivia. On this occasion, though, he had something to contribute. He had not been idle, he had made good progress.

  ‘Odd, isn’t it?’ Donoghue reclined in his chair and glanced out of the window at the morning sun glinting on the glass and concrete buildings of the city’s central business district. He thought suddenly that in eight hours’ time the city’s working girls would be standing underneath those buildings.