Watch Him Die

by Craig Robertson

  We have a different view of what’s interesting, Matthew.

  Seems that way. But I think maybe people aren’t as different as some would like to make out. What I do, what you do. Different sides of the same coin. Maybe you’re not so much better than me as you like to think, Detective.

  Salgado raised his hand again, flat above the keyboard ready to smash it down, before O’Neill cautioned him. ‘Don’t rise to him. Going to do none of us any good.’

  ‘I won’t. Okay, I am. But I won’t.’

  ‘Want me to talk to him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then type. Ask him straight out where the hell this kid is. He must know something.’

  Where is this, Matthew? Where is this guy being held?

  I wouldn’t know. And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.

  ‘He’s lying. No way Garland hasn’t told him at least the kind of dump spots he uses.’

  Come on, Matthew. I could just switch it off. Might have to if you’re no use to us.

  A pause. They could see him begin to type then it went blank again. Finally, he answered.

  I don’t know where he is. Telling you and ending this would make it completely pointless for me to talk to you. But I have no idea where he is. This one is Ethan’s.

  O’Neill reached for Salgado’s shoulder and began to talk, but he’d caught it too.

  This one? That means there’s more? And if this is his, does that mean some are yours?

  There was a long break. Perhaps Marr regretting a hasty use of words.

  Let’s pass over that for now.

  Maybe we don’t want to.

  We?

  I’ve been joined by my partner. Detective Cally O’Neill.

  Quite the party. Anyone else there I should know about?

  Oh, there are lots of us. Might as well be an army as far as you’re concerned. Are there more like this guy on the video? And are some of them yours?

  It was Ethan’s turn. That’s all I’m telling you. For now, at least.

  His turn.

  Salgado pounded the keyboard as he tried again.

  You must know something about where this guy is. The kind of places Garland would use.

  What I can tell you is that no one else will know where this guy is. No one else will have fed him or given him water. Only Ethan. It’s very unlikely anyone will stumble across him. Ethan will have made sure of that. Wherever he is, he won’t be easy to find.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  How long has he been there, Matthew? How long has he been without food?

  I think four days now. That was the plan. And now he’s almost out of water. I’m not sure he’s got the strength to pick up what’s left even if there is any.

  ‘Fuck this shit!’ Salgado shouted as he typed.

  So, tell me why I should let you keep watching this. What am I going to gain from it if you have no idea where this man is?

  I don’t know where he is, Detective. But I know other things. Lots of other things.

  Salgado turned to O’Neill, mouth half open. ‘You think that’s a good thing or a bad thing?’

  She exhaled hard. ‘I’m almost sure it’s both.’

  CHAPTER 13

  Narey and Giannandrea were parked outside the tenements in Midlock Street for forty-five minutes before Harkness turned up. Giannandrea saw him first – black jeans and T-shirt, leather jacket – turning the corner at the whitewashed cafe, and nudged her.

  He hadn’t noticed them in the car and had got to the door entry system before he heard their footsteps approaching. He looked warily over his shoulder, his face crumpling angrily when he saw who it was.

  ‘Can we have a word please, Mr Harkness? Inside would be best.’

  ‘What the hell do you lot want now? You’ve been told to stay away. My lawyer has spoken to your boss and you’ve been told. Just fuck off. You’re getting nowhere and you’re getting nothing from me.’

  He turned away from them and punched numbers into the security panel before reaching for the door handle.

  ‘There’s been a development, Mr Harkness,’ she told him. ‘The rules have changed.’

  She regretted not being able to see his face, but it had been the only way to stop him. She could still see the effect it had. He froze on the handle, his shoulders tensing then slumping. He slowly shifted round till he was facing them, his face set to neutral but the eyes giving away the anger.

  ‘What development?’

  ‘I think we should talk inside. The street isn’t the place for it.’

  ‘Fuck this. I’m phoning my lawyer. He says this is harassment. I’ve not to say a word to you unless he’s present.’

  They tag-teamed him.

  ‘Really? Are you worried you’ll incriminate yourself, Tam? Or is he?’

  ‘If you haven’t done anything then you’ve nothing to worry about. No reason not to talk to us.’

  Harkness looked from one to the other, the heat rising in his cheeks, his brow tightening.

  ‘What development?’ he repeated.

  She held his stare, trying to work out if he knew or he’d guessed. He was angry and scared but that might be the case whether he knew they’d found Eloise or not. She wasn’t for giving him any clues just yet.

  ‘We need to talk to you. It can be here or it can be at the station. Make your choice now.’

  At that, she felt the same vibe she’d got from the man a few times before. A barely suppressed rage that was on the point of snapping. His arms were crossed over his chest and he gripped his own biceps as if to hold them in place.

  ‘My lawyer said you had to back off.’

  ‘Things have changed. Your flat or the station?’

  ‘Neither without my lawyer.’

  She’d had enough. ‘Then phone him. You can make the call from the interview room. Sergeant.’

  Giannandrea moved to the man’s side. ‘Let’s go, Mr Harkness. And let’s not make this unpleasant.’

  ‘This is out of order.’ He weighed up his options and found them lacking. ‘Okay, I’ll talk to you but only here and not till my lawyer gets here.’

  ‘Too late,’ Narey told him. ‘We’re taking you in. We need your assistance with our enquiries into the disappearance of Eloise Gray. Move.’

  He moved, fists bunched, eyes wild, but he moved. They put him into the back seat of the car and drove.

  *

  It was two hours before the lawyer, Gareth Stein, turned up. In that time, Harkness simmered, refusing all attempts to convince him to start without Stein being present. Narey tried to read his thinking but the end result of all the possible scenarios was that the angry man became more angry. Whether he knew they’d found her or not, even whether he’d killed her or not, the only possible eventuality was that this short-tempered thug would be as he was.

  Stein was a criminal defence lawyer at a well-established Glasgow practice, Henderson and Park, but had only been there a couple of years. He was in his late twenties, all youthful vigour but without the usual baggage of moral righteousness. He came dressed in an expensive pinstripe but still managed to carry an air of street fighter.

  Narey despised him immediately.

  ‘This is outrageous, Detective Inspector. Your superiors are already aware of my client’s treatment at your hands, as you well know. You have been told to back off and been warned of the consequences of not doing so. If this doesn’t end today then I will have no option but to present a formal complaint against yourself and to initiate proceedings leading towards financial compensation for my client for emotional distress.’

  ‘Have you finished, Mr Stein? Good, then we can get on.’

  The lawyer was momentarily taken aback by her complete dismissal of his opening rant. He recovered enough to speak but she’d already moved on, leaving him behind.

  ‘Mr Harkness, I’d like to thank you for voluntarily agreeing to this interview. For the purposes of the tape, also present are Detective Sergeant Rico Giannandrea and Mr Gareth
Stein, solicitor for Mr Harkness.’

  She paused just long enough to let Stein think he could interject but spoke before he could actually do so.

  ‘Mr Harkness, can you tell me when you last saw Eloise Gray?’

  ‘How many times? I’ve been through this. I don’t know where she is.’

  ‘That’s not what I asked you. When did you last see her?’

  ‘A few days before she was supposed to have disappeared.’

  ‘Supposed to have? You don’t think she disappeared?’

  Harkness screwed his eyes up. ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. I don’t.’

  ‘My client simply means that he can’t know whether or not Ms Gray disappeared because he had no involvement with it or knowledge of it. Inspector, you told my client that there was a development with your investigation that somehow necessitated his presence here. Would you please tell us what that is so we can make an informed decision as to whether his assistance to your enquiries will continue?’

  ‘Of course, Mr Stein. And thank you for your patience.’

  She faced Harkness, studying him, waiting for his reaction.

  ‘Mr Harkness, Eloise Gray’s body was found in the early hours of this morning.’

  His mouth fell open. He hadn’t expected that.

  She steamed over him. Telling him more and telling him nothing. Not giving him time to adjust to one slap before slapping him again.

  ‘She’d been murdered.’

  ‘Detective Inspector—’ the solicitor tried and failed to stop her.

  ‘The extent and manner of her injuries leave no doubt that this was an extremely brutal attack and in no way could they possibly have been the result of an accident.’

  ‘Inspector—’

  ‘You were once romantically involved with Eloise, Mr Harkness, so it’s only fair that you hear what happened to her. I hope that you can now see your way clear to helping us with our investigation.’

  ‘Yes. Yes. Of course. I—’

  ‘My client isn’t prepared to say anything at this time.’

  ‘I haven’t accused him of anything. I have simply updated him on the latest development in the investigation. Why would he not be saying anything at this time?’

  She’d watched Harkness go from nervous to shocked to disorientated. He’d managed to disguise either nothing or everything and she really doubted it was the latter. He was completely thrown and wasn’t a good enough actor to hide it.

  The lawyer was talking, protesting and excusing, but no one in the room was listening. She wasn’t sure that Harkness was hearing anything at all. His head slumped forward, mouth open, eyes unfocused. He’d left them.

  Narey felt her mobile vibrating in her pocket but let it ring. The call stopped and almost immediately Giannandrea’s phone rang instead. When he looked at the screen and nodded at her, she called a temporary suspension to the interview and left the room. She returned Campbell Baxter’s call, knowing it to be urgent.

  ‘Detective Inspector, I’ve got some news for you that I suspect you’re going to like to hear.

  ‘We have a probable match on the piece of clothing found at the Highland Fling this morning.’

  ‘Already?’

  ‘I prioritised it. And we had the benefit of having a potential match at hand.’

  Her breath caught and made time stand still. He’d said little but it was more than enough to make her thought process race ahead of what he was saying. She had to pull herself back into the conversation.

  ‘I urge some caution as the results are not complete. However, I am breaking the habit of a lifetime to let you know that the sample of clothing collected from the scene is a probable match to one Thomas Harkness.’

  The breath left her slowly, much like a sigh of relief. She wasn’t elated, not jubilant or triumphant. Sometimes the journey exhausts you enough that you don’t have the energy to celebrate getting there. Sometimes it just seems wrong.

  Once back in the interview room, she pretended to study the notes in front of her. She wanted time to compose herself and time for the solicitor to stew and wonder. His client had finally looked up, seemingly aware of the change of atmosphere in the room.

  ‘Interview recommenced at 12.37. Those present as before. Thomas Harkness, I am arresting you under Section 1 of the Criminal Justice (Scotland) Act 2016 on suspicion of the murder of Eloise Gray. The reason for your arrest is that I suspect that you have committed an offence and I believe that keeping you in custody is necessary and proportionate for the purposes of bringing you before a court or otherwise dealing with you in accordance with the law. You are not obliged to say anything but anything you do say will be noted and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’

  Harkness was stunned and his lawyer’s eyes widened. ‘What’s going on here? My client came here voluntarily and not—’

  She snapped at him. ‘Things have changed. Your client has been cautioned and his change of status will be recorded in the custody suite. Mr Harkness, you will be taken there now and will have the opportunity of consulting with your lawyer.’

  Harkness jumped to his feet, red-faced and shaking. Stein was indignant.

  *

  Less than an hour later. Different room. Different game. Narey was determined not to let Harkness have the chance to settle.

  ‘Have you ever been to Springburn?

  He was surprised at the question. ‘Yes, sure. Quite often, I guess.’

  ‘Have you ever been in the Highland Fling pub?’

  She looked for the reaction in his eyes, saw something but wasn’t sure what it was.

  He looked to his lawyer as if expecting him to know what to say. ‘What is this about, Inspector?’ Stein demanded.

  ‘It’s a simple question. Has your client ever been to the Highland Fling pub? Yes or no, Mr Harkness?’

  ‘Maybe. I’m not sure.’

  Harkness was hedging and it clearly worried his solicitor.

  ‘Okay, let me try to help you. It’s on Cowlairs Road at the corner of Millarbank Street. Have you been there recently? Say, since Eloise disappeared.’

  Harkness looked from her to his lawyer and back, searching for the right answer. He settled on, ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes.’ It sounded very unsure.

  ‘In that case, I’m confused. Because we have evidence to place you inside the Highland Fling.’

  ‘It’s a pub, Inspector,’ Stein interjected. ‘By the nature of pubs, people don’t always remember being in them. And being in a pub is neither a crime nor evidence of guilt.’

  ‘Oh, I think your client would remember being in this one. It’s been shut for a number of years. And it’s where Eloise Gray’s body was found.’

  She pulled the pin on that grenade and dropped it in Harkness’s lap to watch it explode.

  He got out of his seat, standing there stupidly, unsure what to do or say. A tug on his sleeve from his lawyer sat him down again.

  ‘What evidence do you have, Detective Inspector?’ Stein struggled to gain a semblance of control. ‘You said you had forensic evidence for my client’s arrest.’

  ‘We have DNA.’

  Stein’s face fell, as did his client’s. She wanted to stick the knife in deeper.

  ‘There was a torn piece of clothing found at the scene. We extracted DNA and it has tested as a probable match for Mr Harkness. We can place him at the scene where the body was discovered.’

  Harkness looked round at them as he said it. ‘Eloise. I mean . . . I really liked her.’

  He sounded punch drunk. Narey had heard it before, the voice stunned and surprised, not sure if he was up or down, not trusting his own head.

  ‘So why did you hit her? Why did you threaten her?’

  Harkness shrugged in shame. ‘I didn’t mean to. It just happened.’

  ‘Why did you kill her?’

  ‘I didn’t.’

  Narey reached into the folder in front
of her and took out four A4-sized photographs. She placed them face down on the table between her and Harkness. His eyes went to them immediately and she left him time to wonder.

  ‘These photographs,’ she tapped the top one with her index finger, ‘are of Eloise. They show her as she was found in the Highland Fling.’

  Harkness stared hard at the back of the prints.

  ‘Do you want to see them?’

  His head nearly swung off his neck as he shook it, mouth tight and eyes fixed.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  He was. And so was his lawyer. ‘My client said he didn’t . . .’

  She tapped two fingers on the back of the photographs. Her mind’s eye seeing what was there. Eloise lit up by the harsh light of the flash gun. The shadows that she cast against the whitewashed walls behind. Her skin yellow and purple and fat and torn.

  She wouldn’t, couldn’t, turn over the prints and let Harkness see them. Revealing specialist knowledge that he could only know by being involved would weaken the likelihood of a conviction. Stein surely knew that. Harkness didn’t. He sat as far back as his chair would allow, his eyes stretched wide.

  ‘I’ll ask you again. Why did you kill her?’

  The voice was small. Weak. ‘I told you. I didn’t.’

  ‘Do you really think a jury is going to believe that? I’m not sure even your own solicitor believes that.’

  It was a cheap shot and Stein reacted angrily.

  ‘That’s out of order, Inspector. Don’t assume any view of my relationship with my client other than his presumed innocence. I want to speak to him alone. Nothing more will be said until I do.’

  ‘You do that, Mr Stein. And perhaps you should advise him of his best course of action. Co-operating with us would be in his best interest.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that, Inspector.’

  ‘I’m sure you will.’

  Narey and Giannandrea stopped the recording and got up from the table. She paused halfway across the room, looking back to see Harkness with his head on the desk.