“Besides, if you were truly altruistic, you wouldn’t be withholding the information from us, now would you?” I added, and my mum nodded along to my words, and together, we stared at the Kraken with our eyebrows raised, waiting to see what she would do next.
The hacker glowered at us both, clearly displeased that she no longer had full control over the situation, and she let the silence stretch out as if that would somehow help her, but she had to know she’d already lost. If I was stubborn, my mother was even worse and wouldn’t be backing down anytime soon, or ever.
“Alright, alright,” the Kraken sighed. “I promised you information on Alasdair MacBain, and I always keep my promises. I just… I wasn’t expecting to get stabbed like that. I suppose that incident made me… clam up a little.”
“We’re still waiting,” Eleanor reminded her since the Kraken seemed ready to launch into another long-winded explanation to avoid the actual topic at hand.
The Kraken paused just long enough to scowl at her before continuing. “I found a name. Parson McCormick. He was a contact of your father’s. He disappeared four or five years after Alasdair did. Same sort of situation. It seemed like he had just up and walked out on his life without leaving any clue as to his whereabouts behind.”
“Parson McCormick,” my mother repeated thoughtfully, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Why do I recognise that name?”
“Probably because his wife filed a missing person report,” the Kraken said. “It didn’t go anywhere, and there’s not much in it, but I’m sure you could get a hold of it if you really tried.”
“I don’t remember Dad mentioning anyone by that name,” I said. My stomach was tingling slightly, and my excitement turned into a physical sensation. This man’s name was the most tangible lead I’d found since starting this whole, off-kilter investigation, especially if there was an actual police report attached to it.
Eleanor shook her head. “Me neither. But as it turns out, there were a lot of things he didn’t tell me.” A hint of anger overtook her face. She’d loved my father with all her heart. It must have been hard to learn that there was this entire part of himself that he’d kept from her, even if it was to try to protect her. She clapped her hands together, dispelling the emotion and making me jump slightly. “Alright. Here’s what we’re going to do. You need to focus on closing your case, and in the meantime, I’ll track down the report on Parson McCormick. It shouldn’t be a problem for me with my contacts.”
“What about me?” the Kraken asked a little testily. “Are you just going to put me out on the street now that I’ve given you what you wanted? I’ve been stabbed.”
“So you keep reminding us,” Eleanor said as she rolled her eyes. “You can stay here until you’re recovered and have figured out your next move. We might need more of your help, anyway.”
The Kraken nodded and relaxed slightly, one hand cupped around the wound on her side.
“Thank you,” I said to her. “You’re right. You didn’t have to do this for us, and we really appreciate that you did.”
“What can I say? I’ve got a soft spot for lost causes,” the Kraken drawled, sinking back into her usual snide demeanour now that she was no longer worried about her immediate future.
I rolled my eyes. I didn’t really like being called a lost cause, and I couldn’t quite tell if the Kraken was serious or just droll.
“There is one other thing,” I said, reaching into my pocket to take out the plastic bag with the cigarette in it. “I can’t be totally sure, but I think someone was watching my flat last night. They left this behind. I was going to give it to Martin to see if he can pull any DNA off it.”
“Did you see this person?” Eleanor asked. Her expression darkened, and one hand bunched into a fist as she no doubt pictured beating whoever was stalking me to a pulp.
I shook my head. “They were just a shadow from the other side of the street, and by the time I walked over there, they’d disappeared.”
“You need to be careful,” my mum said as if I weren’t already being careful.
“I know,” I told her. “No one’s made a move toward me yet, but I doubt that will last, especially when we start looking into this McCormick fellow.” I sighed and rubbed at the side of my face, exhaustion hitting me all over again like a wave, and I had to take a moment to push it to the side once more. “I should get going. Case to solve and all that. I’ll check back in once it’s all wrapped up.”
“Don’t mention this to your sister quite yet,” Eleanor added. “We don’t want to get her hopes up or put her in danger.”
“Understood,” I said with a nod. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”
Eleanor smiled and walked me to the door while the Kraken remained on her stool, selecting another scone from the platter. At the end of the hall, my mum gave me a quick hug then saw me out, wrapping her cardigan around herself a little tighter as the wind blew against her. I could feel her watching me as I hurried down to the car, and I waved as I climbed inside, our two doors shutting at the same time.
After that, it was off to the station. I spent the whole drive putting my father’s disappearance and the shadow organisation out of my mind so I could focus on the Carmichael case, knowing I needed to be on top of my game if we were going to get this done. It took quite a bit of effort as questions about Parson McCormick, and my shadowy stalker kept trying to creep back in, but I eventually got all of it boxed up and put away.
By the time I reached the station’s car park, I’d managed to settle into case mode and was ready to get moving on the plan to catch Carmichael. A few drops of rain splattered against my head as I climbed from the car and walked toward the front doors, but it didn’t look like it was actually going to be a downpour, the sky a light grey rather than heavy and dark.
I looked around for Fletcher as I entered the station, but I didn’t see her anywhere, so I caught Reid’s attention as I walked past her.
“You seen Fletcher?” I asked.
“She’s with the sketch artist,” Reid answered, a stack of folders clutched to her chest. “I think they’re in one of the interrogation rooms.”
“Thanks,” I said, and the two of us continued on our separate ways.
I crossed the room and went through the door that led to the hall full of interrogation rooms, poking my head into a couple of them until I found Fletcher and the sketch artist. Fletcher cut herself off mid-description as I entered and gave me a little wave. I pulled out the chair beside her, so we were both sitting across from the sketch artist, who I was pretty sure was named Paula. She was a younger woman, fresh out of art school as I understood it, and she’d been working with the station for about a year. She had streaks of red and blue in her otherwise blonde hair, and there was a silver ring through her eyebrow and a septum piercing in her nose. Dunnel had been hesitant to hire her because of all that until I’d asked him how dyed hair and piercings prevented her from doing her job, and he had to admit that they didn’t.
“I take it Martin wasn’t able to pull up any photographs of our perps?” I asked Fletcher as I adjusted my position on the chair to make sure my overcoat wasn’t tangled beneath me.
“Unfortunately, no,” she replied. “None of them has been arrested before, and Carmichael’s very good at keeping himself out of the public eye. So we’re working with Paula here.”
Paula smiled and waved at me, and I leaned forward to see her work.
“How far have you gotten?” I asked.
“We just finished up with Carmichael,” Fletcher said, and Paula pushed the sketch closer to me. “He’s our main guy, so we took our time with him. I think it turned out pretty well.”
I picked up the drawing and looked it over. Carmichael’s face, rendered in pencil, stared out at me, the small scar on his jaw in just the right place. His eyes seemed to pierce through me, dark enough to reflect the overhead light, and Paula had managed to capture his snide confidence and breezy demeanour.
“What do you think?” Fletcher won
dered.
“Looks good,” I said.
“We were just about to start in on the woman,” Fletcher continued. “What did Carmichael call her? Dune?”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
Fletcher had gotten up close and personal with the Dune woman during their fight, so she took the lead on the description while I piped up every so often to adjust a few details. Then we moved on to the third man, whose name we hadn’t caught. Paula made him look as nervous and on edge as he’d been that day, though we hadn’t gotten quite as close a look at him as we had the others, so there was a possibility our sketch wasn’t totally accurate. But it would be close enough, and I thanked Paula as she gathered up the three pages and handed them to me.
“No problem,” she said, shaking out her drawing hand. “I hope you catch these guys.”
Paula stood and left first, leaving Fletcher and me alone in the interrogation room. I could see in her eyes that Fletcher wanted to ask me what had happened at my mother’s, but she knew better than to bring it up in a room full of cameras. I’d be sure to fill her in on everything later, maybe even bring her along the next time I went over there, but I needed to keep the two investigations separate so I could focus on the most pressing one, our sting against Carmichael.
“We should get these scanned and sent to the team,” I said, tapping a finger against the top page. “And we need to check in with Alec, too; make sure he’s up to speed.”
“Martin’s thinking about our wire problem,” Fletcher informed me. “He’ll let us know if he thinks of anything, and he’s also working on getting access to the traffic cameras around the theatre. There aren’t many, but it would still be useful to have them as eyes.”
“Good shout,” I said. I stood up from the table, taking the three sketches with me, and Fletcher quickly rose as well to follow me out of the interrogation room. Once we’d stepped into the station’s main room, I made my way over to the set of printers pushed up against the wall. One of them didn’t work, but I could never remember which one it was, so I selected the middle one and hoped it would function.
It didn’t, of course, so I swapped to a different printer and managed to get the sketches scanned to my email. Then I went to my desk, so I could forward the images to the entire team. Barely a minute later, my phone chimed repeatedly as everyone confirmed that they’d gotten the message.
“Should we go check in with Alec again?” I asked Fletcher once that task was done.
“Probably,” Fletcher agreed. “We need to make sure he’s not about to freak out and quit on us.”
“Do you think he might?” I wondered nervously.
Fletcher shrugged as she stuffed her arms into her dark blue leather jacket. I really needed to figure out just how many of these coats she owned because she almost always seemed to have a different one on.
“I don’t know,” she said as we started for the doors. “He’s definitely freaked out by the whole prospect. I know he’s said that his promise of the I.O.U. is really important to him, but that doesn’t mean his anxiety won’t get the better of him.”
I nodded, holding the door open for Fletcher. “And if Dunnel thinks for even a second that Alec’s going to bail on us, he’ll shut this whole thing down. We need to think of some way to really nail Alec down.”
“Do you think we’d be going too far if we brought Ainslee to see him?” Fletcher wondered.
“It needs to be her choice,” I sighed. “We can’t push her into it.” I paused, bouncing my car keys in my palm as an idea popped into my head. “But there might be something else we could do. It’s definitely manipulative, but I think it could work.”
Fletcher’s eyes gleamed, and she let a small smile hit her lips. “I do love a good manipulation,” she said.
“Then let’s go pick our man up,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat at the same time as Fletcher climbed into the car on the other side.
Seventeen
“Where are we going?” Alec demanded from the backseat.
Fletcher and I had picked him up from Bellfield Park, as usual, and told him we had somewhere to be, though we hadn’t told him any specifics, no matter how many times he tried to ask what was going on. He looked distinctly unhappy back there, his cap pulled low over his red curls and his entire face folded down into a displeased expression as he crossed his arms and slumped in his seat.
“We’re almost there,” I said as I turned off the main road onto a smaller side street that curved at an odd angle as it travelled amongst the buildings.
Alec squinted out the window and began to frown as recognition finally settled across him, and a moment later, that frown was replaced by a look of abject worry, and he shifted in his seat, one hand going to the door handle as if he was going to fling himself out of the car while it was still moving.
“What the hell are you two up to?” he snapped.
“You’ll see,” I said smoothly, giving him a sly grin through the rearview mirror before taking one last turn and pulling up outside of Finn Wair’s primary school. It was an old brick building, cut off from the street by a tall, wrought iron fence, and I parked in the small car park just outside, stealing a teacher’s spot for the short amount of time we’d be there. I’d managed to time our arrival with the start of break time, so there were a bunch of little kids running around the colourful play structure and swings, laughing and yelling at each other.
Fletcher and I got out of the car, but Alec remained inside, his hands clenched so tightly around his seatbelt that his knuckles had turned white. I opened his door and leaned over to look at him, blinking expectantly.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go. There’s something I want you to see.”
“I don’t think so,” Alec croaked, his voice catching in his throat. “If Ainslee hears I’ve been snooping around our son, she’ll want nothing to do with me.” He shook his head vehemently. “No. I’m not risking it.”
“I’ll tell her I brought you,” I insisted. “Now, get out before I drag you out.”
Alec looked into my face, probably trying to judge just how serious I was, and I stared back at him flatly so he’d know I meant that literally. He sighed and pressed his knuckles into his forehead, his jaw clenching, and then he undid his seatbelt and climbed swiftly from the car, nearly knocking into me when I didn’t get out of the way quickly enough. He wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his shoulders as he stood beside me, and I turned him, so he was looking through the fence, his eyes automatically roving through the cluster of children until he found his son.
Finn and his small group of friends were gathered in a tight circle, crouched down as they peered at something at the ground with the sort of intensity that was only born of youthful curiosity. His back was to us, but his red curls were distinctive, matching Alec’s.
“Why are we here?” Alec asked me quietly.
“I know you’re leery about helping us with this operation,” I said, my hands stuffed in my pockets as Fletcher stood beside me. “And I understand that it could go badly for you. I’m not trying to diminish the danger to you, but I really don’t think we can do it without you.”
Alec opened his mouth, ready to say something, but I shook my head, silently asking him to let me finish, and he subsided, his eyes locking on his son once more.
“You’re a thief, but you’re not a killer, yes?” I continued, and Alec nodded. “Well, Carmichael and his crew went too far, even if it was an accident. What would Finn think of you if you let them get away with that? Does your thief’s code extend to killers, too? You won’t be the one betraying the thieving community or whatever you want to call it. Those three did when they killed poor Barney Crane. It’s only right that they suffer consequences for that, don’t you think? Or would you rather tell your son that you let a killer walk free because you were afraid of what might happen to you?”
“I hate you just a little bit, you know that, right?” Fletcher said to me.
I shrug
ged, unconcerned. “I’m well aware. So what do you say? What kind of person do you want to be today?”
Alec stared at his son a while longer, and through his silence, I could tell that I’d gotten all the way through to him. He just wasn’t necessarily ready to admit it to himself quite yet.
“Thieves don’t kill people,” he said. “At least, the ones I know don’t. If you have to resort to violence, then you aren’t very good at your job, are you? I expected better from Carmichael. If I were him, I might’ve told the killer to get the hell off my team, but either he did the deed, or he’s protecting whoever did, and that makes him as bad as the actual killer.” He let out a long sigh and finally pulled his gaze away from Finn to look over at me. “I hate that you’re right, but you are. Someone needs to teach these people that you can’t just get away with this sort of thing, and I suppose that person is me.” He curled his lip like he was very disappointed in himself and shook his head. “I’m in. One hundred per cent.”
I clapped him on the shoulder and found that I fully believed him. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Let’s go somewhere else to talk,” Alec suggested. “I’m not ready for Finn to see me yet. Not that he would remember me, but still.”
“Sure. We’ve got a lot to talk about,” I agreed. “There’s a quiet cafe not far from here. We can go there.”
“Not your flat?” Alec wondered, and Fletcher gave me a curious look as well.
“It’s a bit far from here,” I lied because I was worried there would be someone watching it once again.
Fletcher definitely didn’t believe me, and I couldn’t quite tell what Alec thought as he turned toward the car. I lost sight of his face, but neither of them tried to push the issue. Instead, we all got in the car, and I drove us to the cafe I knew of, roaming around the surrounding streets for about five minutes as I searched for a place to park.
When we entered the cafe, we made our way to the counter first. I didn’t know about the others, but I was in pretty desperate need of some caffeine. I ordered an Americano, Fletcher an iced chai latte, and Alec a cup of herbal tea. I forked over the cash, and we waited for our drinks for a couple of minutes, then took them over to a table in the corner, well away from the few other patrons seated around the well-lit room.
Fatal Transaction: A DCI MacBain Scottish Crime Thriller Page 25
