‘That’s the second thing we checked,’ he replied. ‘Yes, there’s a camera outside, but it’s no great help. People come and go all night, it’s poorly lit and the coverage isn’t complete.’
‘Be that as it may, can you access the tapes?’
‘There aren’t any. It records on to a computer hard disk, stores automatically for two weeks then deletes, a day at a time.’
‘In that case we’re within the window. Don’t get your hopes up, but I’d like you to look at the night we’re interested in for the following vehicle: a black VW Golf GTI, registration number L712FTG. See what you get.’
‘I’ll put people on it. Is this just a kite you’re flying, Bob?’
‘Some might call it that; I’d call it a fucking jumbo jet. Make sure they’re your best people.’
When I finished, Jim Glossop was beaming. ‘This sounds like proper police work,’ he said.
‘And we’re not done yet.’
‘In that case, I did this as well.’ He handed me a third photocopy. ‘It’s an extract of the father’s birth certificate. His parents were Peter Holmes, and Alafair Hastings. That shows you where the children’s names came from. Will that be useful too?’
‘It might be,’ I told him, ‘where we’re going with this. It could give me an edge. Thanks, mate; till the next time.’ I walked back out into the sunlight, my faithful followers close behind.
‘Where is next, boss?’ McGuire asked.
‘For you, lad, back to the office. I need you to try to pin down Peter Hastings McGrew, in case I can’t find him by other means. He’s ex-army, but they don’t know where he is. You’ve got his date of birth, so start with the DSS; they’ll have his national insurance number and a contributions record. It might take you straight to him, but if not, go to British Telecom, and look for subscribers with that name. His car’s taxed, so it should be insured. By which company? Find out. Then there’s the electoral registers…’ I stopped; he nodded. ‘I’ll drop you at the office,’ I told him, ‘then Andy and I will go to the Murrayfield. I need to pay another visit to young Mr Drysalter. There’s something I have to ask him, and he might even know where Peter is, save us some time. He should be back in the land of the half awake by now.’
He was, but not much more than that; his eyes were still heavy from sedation. The doctor on duty had been hesitant about letting us see him, indeed he’d refused at first, then relented when I’d threatened to call Mr Jacobs. ‘Don’t be too long,’ he said. ‘The man’s having a hard time. We have to move his knees every so often, and you can imagine, with the fractures, that’s a painful process.’
‘I hope the physios aren’t Hearts supporters,’ I muttered.
‘Oh no,’ Derek Drysalter sighed when we walked into his room. ‘Not again. Look, whatever you say, I’m not changing my statement.’ The nursing staff had him out of bed, but on a chair with his legs in huge hinged splints, propped on stools and supported by pillows. It was the best they could do, but it didn’t look close to comfortable.
I sat on the edge of his bed and looked down at him. ‘I don’t care about your fucking statement, Derek,’ I told him. ‘Anyway, you’d be wasting your time if you did change it, and ours, for we’d never get a conviction against the guy who worked you over. All I want is the answer to one simple question. When you found out that Alafair was planning an away trip while you were off on international duty, did you go crying to anyone? Specifically, did you go crying to your father-in-law?’ I leaned forward. ‘Don’t lie to me on this, Derek. Don’t even let that idea cross your befuddled mind. You’re not important. This is. What future you have left could ride on you telling me the truth right now.’
He turned his head away, looked out of the window and muttered something.
‘I didn’t hear that.’
‘Yes!’ he cried out. ‘Yes I did. I phoned Perry.’
I moved round to face him ‘What did you say to him?’
‘I told him Alafair was doin’ my head in, and I asked him, please, if he’d fucking talk to her.’
‘How did he react?’
‘He told me to leave it with him, that was all.’
‘How long have you and Alafair been married?’ I asked.
‘Just over a year.’
‘How long had you known her before that?’
‘Seven or eight months.’
‘Did she tell you right away who her father was?’
‘No. I didn’t even know she had a father. She told me she’d been brought up by her mother, and that she was dead. She never told me about him till after the wedding. He’d just moved into his new house.’ He snorted. ‘House? Private nursing home, more like. She took me up there one day, in the close season, and introduced me to him. Poor bastard; spoon-fed by the one guy, lifted and turned and all his tubes changed by the other. He’s game, though, Perry. He’s still got a smile about him.’
‘Do you see him often?’
He nodded. ‘I go there about once a month, just to say hello. I feel sorry for him. I take him videos of the Hibs games; the club films them all, for training. At first both of us went, but lately it’s just been me. I think he and Alafair fell out about something.’
‘Has he ever told you how he wound up in his wheelchair?’
‘No, but Alafair did. She said that a business rival tried to kill him.’
‘Mmm,’ I murmured. ‘And did she tell you what happened to that so-called rival?’
‘Yes, your lot shot him, didn’t they?’
‘Well now, that’s not exactly true, but never mind. Tell me, Derek,’ I continued, ‘when did things start to go wrong between you and her?’
‘Oh,’ he drawled, lazily, ‘it must have taken all of a couple of months. She started to complain about being left on her own when I had to train, then when I was away on Scotland trips. After that it was my gambling, although she never minded when I took her to the casino. I know why that was now. Her and Tony bloody Manson.’ He frowned. ‘When I get back on my feet…’
‘You’ll what? Derek, these people are in a different world from you. What you should do when you get back on your feet is go and take a coaching qualification, or get a nice job as a TV pundit. You got off with your life. Leave it at that.’
He made a derisive noise. ‘Hmmph! That’s easy for you to say.’
‘You’re right,’ I agreed. ‘It’s easy because I don’t want to be there when they fish you out of the sea. I don’t want to be walking past those new offices at the west end wondering which one you’re underneath.’ I felt a burst of real sympathy for the poor naive lad. ‘You’re in an alien world, mate. You’re mixed up with some very bad people. You’ve already seen what Manson can do to people who upset him. Well, let me explain this to you in football terms. Tony’s a first division player, sure, but Perry, your wife’s old man, he is premier league.’
He stared at me, wide-eyed, and then laughed in my face. ‘Perry? You’re kidding. He’s a property developer.’
‘Yes, and Mussolini was an MI5 agent: so what? Derek, you must have friends in newspapers.’
‘Of course.’
‘Well, you get one of them… the Saltire would probably be the best source… to let you see its file on Perry, the stuff they’ve printed and the stuff they can’t.’ I stopped. ‘Do it if you can be bothered, but Perry isn’t the reason I’m here. You’ve answerd one of my questions. This is the other. Where can I find your brother-in-law?’
He blinked and shook his head, as if he was trying to clear it. ‘He’s in fucking Swindon, and so’s my sister, and so are their kids. But what’s Jamie got to do with any of this?’
‘I wasn’t talking about him, Derek. I meant your wife’s brother.’
‘What the hell are you talking about, man? Alafair doesn’t have a brother.’
‘Oh, but she does.’
‘Then I have never met him, and she’s never mentioned him. Neither has Perry. And that’s the God’s honest truth.’ It was, too. He was beginning to realise how far out of his depth he was, and he was scared. ‘Look, go away, please,’ he begged.