One Last Dram Before Midnight

by Denzil Meyrick

  Despite the circumstances, Daley saw a twinkle in Murray’s eye.

  ‘And take a look,’ said Murray, holding his ample belly with both hands through his bib-and-brace dungarees. ‘I’m no’ sure any expert witness wid be willing tae testify tae the fact I’d make it through that wee window.’ He grinned. ‘Good luck to you, gents, but no cigar.’

  IX

  It was almost lunchtime when the detectives arrived back at Kinloch Police Office. As Daley made his way into the CID suite, he could see movement in his glass box – Chief Superintendent Symington.

  She was sipping a mug of coffee, the remains of a supermarket sandwich in its plastic wrapper in front of her on Daley’s desk. She greeted him warmly and then asked about this latest crisis.

  ‘Well, certainly very annoying, ma’am, but I wouldn’t say it’s the worst thing I’ve had to face since arriving down here,’ replied Daley, somewhat put out that Symington had seen fit to ensconce herself in his office.

  ‘Try talking to the ACC. You would think we’d lost the Crown Jewels. You know as well as I do, Jim, Police Scotland is under scrutiny, and anything high-profile like this is bound to ruffle feathers.’

  ‘We’re doing our best, but the investigation is at an early stage.’

  ‘Oh, you’re talking to me, not the press. I know where we are with the investigation. The bosses wanted me down here for two reasons. One, to deal with the press, and two, to run the shop so that you can give this your full attention. So, here I am.’

  ‘You’re taking temporary command, ma’am?’

  ‘Jim, that sounds rather grand. I’m giving you the time and space to get things done. Nobody doubts your worth – quite the opposite. You’re one of the best detectives we have. That’s why the gaffers want you on the case with no distractions. And call me Carrie for goodness sake!’

  Before Daley could reply, there was a knock at the door.

  ‘Sir, ma’am,’ said DC Potts. ‘I think you should take a look at what we’ve just found on the CCTV from last night.’

  Daley and Symington followed Potts to the general CID office.

  ‘This was recorded at just after four this morning. As you can see, we have two figures, the larger which is carrying what looks like a white plastic bag of some description.’

  Daley stared at the screen. ‘Fast-forward, please.’

  ‘I’ve checked. It’s best we rewind a bit,’ said Potts, doing just that. As the footage spooled back rapidly, a muddle of shapes and flashes of lights, Potts watched numbers on the screen scrolling back, then quickly pressed pause. ‘This is the first we see of them, as they enter the system in the town centre. This is the entrance to Well Lane.’

  It was clear that they were looking at a large male figure accompanied by a smaller female. He was wearing a beanie; she had the hood of her jacket up, almost covering her face from the angle of he camera. Slowly, frame by frame, she held her hand out, palm facing skywards. She turned slowly to the man and then reached to her hood with both hands and pulled it back.

  ‘You see,’ said Potts. ‘She was obviously checking to see that the rain had stopped, so that she could divest herself of the hood.’

  ‘Yes, I think we got that, Potts,’ replied Symington impatiently.

  ‘Now, look.’ As Potts pointed at the screen, the woman’s features were caught by the camera for the first time.

  ‘Oh shit,’ said Daley.

  ‘Isn’t that your friend – the woman from the County Hotel?’ remarked Symington.

  ‘Yes, yes, it is,’ replied Daley. Suddenly he felt as though a great weight had been placed on his shoulders. ‘And, if I’m not much mistaken, the guy with her is Hal, the man from the British Museum.’

  ‘Really?’ said Symington.

  ‘Yes, really. I just don’t understand it, though.’

  ‘Understand what, Jim?’

  ‘Well, the very fact that she’s out here in the middle of the night with a man holding a big sack places her under suspicion. The fact that she’s with the guy from the museum just doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They’re on opposite sides. She was outside the museum with a placard yesterday. There, they look like bosom buddies. I mean, you don’t go for a stroll with someone in the middle of the night if you hardly know them, especially when you’re against what they’re up to.’

  ‘Well, this is a mystery,’ said Symington. ‘But don’t worry about it. I’ll hold the fort while you concentrate on this. Good luck, Jim.’

  ‘I think I’ll need it.’

  ‘Oh, and keep me up to speed, will you? I have the ACC on the phone almost every hour. I better get into my working clothes and face the press.’ She walked off, smiling at Scott who had just arrived in the CID suite and held the door open for her.

  ‘What have I missed?’ he asked, slurping coffee from a cardboard mug.

  ‘Come on, we’re off to the County.’

  ‘Bit early, Jimmy. Mind, we’ve got a thief tae catch and a necklace tae find.’

  ‘We have to speak to Annie,’ said Daley, pointing at the screen where her features were still frozen.

  ‘Oh shit,’ was all Scott could say.

  Annie was heading into the dining room of the County Hotel with an armful of steaming hot lunches when the detectives arrived.

  ‘Jeest go in the bar, boys. I’ll be with you once I’ve served these customers.’

  Daley and Scott waited in silence for her return, and she eyed the pair with curiosity as she bustled back through the lobby.

  ‘Is the door locked? How come yous are not standing at the bar?’

  ‘Can we have a wee word in private, please, Annie?’ said Daley.

  ‘No, no’ my uncle Johnnie!’

  ‘Eh?’ said Scott, looking around for Annie’s relative.

  ‘I mean, I know he’s a good age – nearly ninety – but well, I jeest hoped he’d last tae Christmas. Oor Cissie’s a’ready got him a present: one o’ they big slippers. Dae you know the ones, boys? Jeest one big slipper you pit baith your feet in tae keep warm in the winter – baffy-type yins . . .’

  ‘No, Annie, it’s not about your uncle. Can we speak with you in the office?’

  ‘Right, jeest come through,’ she said, leading them into a small room behind the reception desk, which was a muddle of papers, room keys, old suitcases and pieces of discarded clothing. On the wall, a faded poster proclaimed, ‘Welcome to the Kinloch Highland Games 1985’. A large group of people were standing in a sunny field watching a muscular athlete in a vest and kilt swinging a hammer round his head.

  Though Scott recognised the sport, on inspection it was clear that the field and the people were not local. The details of date and time were scribbled in block capital letters in faded felt tip, in a white space at the bottom. Clearly, no expense had been spared advertising this event.

  ‘Aye, great times they were, Brian. We used tae get a great crowd at the Highland Games. They keep sayin’ they’ll dae it again, but I don’t think it’ll work noo. Folks aren’t happy unless they’re glued to their phones. Nae time for good healthy pursuits like tossing the caber these days. Incidentally, oor uncle Johnnie was a fine tosser o’ the caber in his day. It always ended up straight up and doon – jeest like it’s meant to.’

  As Scott raised an eyebrow at this comment, Daley took a seat on an old swivel chair, which groaned in protest.

  ‘Oh, be careful, Mr Daley. That’s my favourite chair. The miserable buggers that own the hotel won’t replace it if . . .’ Her voice tailed off at the sight of Daley’s expression.

  ‘Annie, what you were you doing at four this morning?’

  ‘Noo, let me see,’ she said, rubbing her chin, eyes suddenly furtive.

  ‘Well, let me put it another way,’ said Daley. ‘What were you doing at four this morning, walking about the town – in the rain, mark you – with the gentleman from the British Museum?’

  ‘Aye, right.’ She sniffed. ‘My, yous boys m
iss nothing, eh?’

  ‘Just answer the man, Annie,’ said Scott. ‘We’re no’ messing aboot here. You know fine that necklace was half-inched fae the museum last night, so don’t come across a’ coy. And, since you were parading the streets just after the time we reckon it was taken, you’re of major interest to the investigating officers. And that’s me and the big man here. So, spill the beans, kid,’ said Scott firmly.

  ‘Is it a crime tae go for a walk noo? I wisnae aware that there was a curfew on the go. This place is getting mair like a polis state every day. Yous are fair carried away wae a’ these powers. Cameras in the streets, phone taps, looking at oor emails an’ that. I’m feart tae indulge in a bit o’ harmless gossip in case some bobby turns up at the door an’ harangues me aboot it. Even Chairman Mao wid baulk at the goings-on.’

  Neither detective replied, both just staring at the County Hotel’s manager with identical impassive expressions.

  ‘If yous must know, when yous went away last night, the lassie fae London wisnae far behind you. Me and big Hal jeest got talking. He’s a lovely big bloke.’

  ‘Aye, half your age, tae,’ observed Scott.

  ‘Listen tae you. I hope that’s no’ the green-eyed monster talking? You a married man, tae.’

  ‘Just get on with it, please, Annie,’ said Daley.

  ‘Right, anyhow. We gets talking, and he was telling me all about himself. Turns oot he’s a right fascination for photography. Loves taking pictures o’ places at dawn. He travels a’ over the country and gets his kit oot.’

  ‘I bet,’ said Scott with a snort.

  Ignoring him, she carried on. ‘He asked me if I knew o’ any interesting buildings that might look good at sunrise. Och well, yous know me – up wae the lark. So, I said I’d take him a quick tour roon before I got the breakfasts ready.’

  ‘So what time did you return to the hotel?’ asked Daley.

  ‘Maybe half four, quarter tae five,’ replied Annie. ‘Breakfast is my domain, so I’ve got tae make sure I get the ovens on an’ that. But yous know fine I dae the best breakfast in the toon.’

  ‘So where did your little photographic jaunt take you?’ asked Daley, stony-faced.

  ‘Roon and aboot. I took him tae the Long Road Church – doon Well Lane, past the distillery. I left him tae it when he was heading doon tae the loch. He was keen tae get some snaps o’ the fishing boats as the sun rose. Sensitive man, he is.’

  ‘Despite the fact he’s hell-bent on removing your precious necklace,’ said Scott.

  ‘Aye, well, it wid seem somebody’s beaten him tae it, eh?’

  ‘And you didn’t see or hear anything suspicious at this time?’ asked Daley, anxious to stick to the point.

  ‘No’ a soul aboot. Mind you, I got a wild fright when a big rat jumped oot at the Glebe fields. But big Hal shooed it away,’ she replied dreamily.

  ‘Okay, Annie,’ said Daley, getting up stiffly from the swivel chair. ‘That’ll do for now. Sorry to say, because of the seriousness of the crime we’re investigating, I’ll need to check the CCTV and speak to your new friend in order to confirm what you’ve told us. But thanks for your time. I’ll let you get back to your work.’

  ‘I should think so, tae,’ she replied, nose in the air. ‘The very notion that I’m some master thief – jeest plain stupid. But I daresay yous have your jobs tae dae.’

  As they walked out of the hotel Scott looked at Daley. ‘So, big man, next stop the museum, I take it?’

  ‘Yup. Let’s see what the lovely Big Hal has to say for himself.’

  As they walked down Main Street, Scott shook his head and sighed.

  ‘What’s up, Brian? Case getting to you?’

  ‘Naw, nothing like that. Just surprised at what a flirt Annie is, Jimmy.’

  ‘And you’ve never noticed before?’

  ‘No, cannae say I have.’

  Daley flung his head back and laughed uproariously, leaving Scott bemused at his side.

  X

  At the museum, only the large display case that once held the necklace was cordoned off by police tape. A SOCO was busy removing fibres from inside the case, in the hope that some tiny piece of forensic evidence would give the investigating team a lead. When Daley looked at him hopefully, the officer shook his hooded head and went back to his painstaking work.

  As they made their way to the office Scott spotted the museum manager heading for the exit.

  ‘Here, you, what’s the rush? Is there a fire?’ shouted Scott.

  Bennett stopped in his tracks and sighed when he realised who’d asked him the question.

  ‘If you must know, this is the first time today I’ve had the opportunity to get out for a bite to eat. If you wish something more from me, please accompany me to the Copper Kettle, where I will be replenishing myself. I feel quite faint, if you must know. I’ve got low blood sugar, so it’s all hell to pay if I don’t pay rigorous attention to my diet.’

  ‘We’re looking for Miss Thornberry and Mr McKee,’ said Daley. ‘Are they in the building, do you know?’

  ‘They are very much in the building. Not very happy, and it would appear that they feel the blame for this fiasco lies squarely on my shoulders.’ He coughed. ‘Something I absolutely refute.’

  ‘Did you get tae the bottom o’ that alarm problem wae the Robertson lassie?’ asked Scott.

  ‘Yes, I did. As I mentioned earlier, it was an unfortunate mix-up. She thought I’d reported the malfunction – I, her. She’s spoken to one of your detectives.’

  ‘Mair than unfortunate, I’d say,’ replied Scott.

  ‘Please go for something to eat, Mr Bennett,’ said Daley, anxious that this exchange of views should end. He had a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, that familiar little voice telling him that something wasn’t right. He wasn’t about to ignore it.

  ‘Who stole your scone, Jimmy?’

  ‘Och, nothing really, Bri. But doesn’t it strike you that everything is just too neat? Everybody has the perfect alibi to explain away this and that – even Annie.’

  ‘You seriously cannae think she pocketed the necklace?’

  ‘No, I don’t think that for a moment.’ He stroked his chin, staring up at the bell tower.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘I just think it’s strange. Look up there. If our thief entered the building via that forced window, how did he or she manage to get down here to ground level? And, even if they did manage this using some rope or other, how come our SOCO team here haven’t found one shred of evidence to prove anybody even walked across this floor or got anywhere near the cabinet?’

  ‘Aye, fair enough. Someone who knows what they were up tae, that’s for sure,’ replied Scott.

  ‘Come on, Brian. You know how meticulous these guys are, what they have at their disposal now. I think it would be virtually impossible for anyone to access this place, then break into the cabinet without them being able to nail something.’

  ‘Aye, but we know somebody forced the window. And what aboot the cop who got knocked on the heid? If you’re trying tae blame some kind o’ phantom, Jimmy, it’s one wae a big stick.’

  ‘Just ignore me, Brian. Let’s get in and see what Big Hal’s saying to it.’

  ‘Big Hal, eh? Pin-up for female hotel staff everywhere, I daresay.’

  ‘I’m worried about you,’ said Daley with a smile.

  Bennett’s office was one flight up. When Daley and Scott arrived they found three people in the room. A pale, thin young woman was pouring tea from a pot into a mug held by Hal McKee. At a large desk – presumably Bennett’s – Thornberry was typing furiously on an iPad.

  ‘Well, well, the very thin blue line,’ she said as the policemen entered the room. ‘Any closer to finding our cat burglar?’

  ‘We’d like to speak to Mr McKee, please,’ said Daley, ignoring the barb.

  ‘Over here,’ said McKee, rather unnecessarily. ‘Fire away – it’s Hal, by the way.’

  ‘Aye, we know a’ aboot t
hat,’ said Scott under his breath.

  ‘In private, please, sir,’ added Daley.

  They walked out into the corridor and found a nearby unoccupied office. Hal sat on the nearest chair, leaving Daley to usher Scott into the only remaining one. He perched gingerly against the edge of an old desk.

  ‘You’re lookin’ tired, Hal,’ said Scott.

  ‘Oh, not especially. I don’t tend to get much sleep when I’m away from home. You know how it is.’

  ‘Aye, sure do,’ replied Scott with a curl of his lip.

  Daley gave his number two a glare and addressed the young man himself. ‘So how do you like your job, Hal? Can’t be easy, you know, travelling around the country removing much loved items from the bosom of communities.’

  ‘Oh, it’s not all about that. We often take historical objects to be assessed by experts in terms of their value, or just to restore or save them. You wouldn’t believe the sheer amount of bits and bobs from our past at risk of being lost. Mostly, because people don’t know how to take care of it, or they don’t know what’s there in the first place.’

  ‘So you and your gaffer come along tae keep them right,’ said Scott with a sniff.

  ‘Something like that.’

  Daley decided to stand, as the desk was making increasingly alarming noises. ‘Did you get any decent images this morning?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I did. This is such a beautiful little place – the harbour was stunning as the sun came up this morning. It was the light through the mist and clouds – just glorious.’

  ‘Would you mind if we took a little look at what you photographed?’ asked Daley. ‘We spoke to Annie from the County a short while ago. She confirmed that you were getting the guided tour.’

  ‘Lovely woman.’ Hal smiled while Scott glowered. ‘My equipment’s in my bag next door, give me two seconds.’

  He left the room, returning quickly with the big white padded bag the detectives had seen on the CCTV footage. It contained various lenses, a small tripod, as well as a camera, all protected within their own little cases. He unzipped the camera case and removed the expensive-looking item with great care.