‘Why not?’ asked Rose.
‘Because I was terrified, that’s why.’
‘Was that the end of it?’
‘Like hell! I got a hundred and fifty grand from my insurance, and Dougie Terry took the lot. But the club gave me a testimonial and that raised another eighty-five thousand. The organisers had that put in Trust, so they couldn’t touch it. The Chairman gave me a job on the staff too, so I could still be a Jambo. I always will be.’
‘We’re going to arrest McCartney,’ said Rose. ‘Will you identify him now?’
Jimmy Lee looked at her, as if making a decision, then nodded. ‘If you can guarantee me protection from him, I will. There’s no point in keeping my gambling secret any longer. Who’s to care? I’m just another ex-player on crutches.’
‘About Barney, the other man,’ said the policewoman. ‘That was almost certainly Bernard Cogan, a known associate of McCartney. He was killed in a pub fight about two years ago. It would help if we could identify at least one of the other men involved. How about the man who stopped you? Can you describe him?’
Lee nodded, emphatically. ‘Definitely. He was heavy built, with a big moustache and a scar across his forehead. ’ He drew a finger diagonally from his hairline down to his right eyebrow. ‘He was a real poser. It was cold, but he was wearing a maroon vest. He had a big tattoo on his right shoulder. A vulture, I think.’
Rose laughed in triumph. ‘Evan Mulgrew! We know where to find him, and I’ll bet that he’ll sing like a bird.’
She slapped the desk. ‘Come in Douglas Terry, your time is up. Or rather, it’s only just beginning!’
46
‘I’m a tidy bloke, Pamela. I like all the ends tied off, and everything neatly in place.’ Skinner sighed and scratched his head in exasperation.
‘I was expecting that you would come back with a statement from Donna somebody about her friendship with Carole Charles, and that would be it. Instead, you’ve discovered that Carole was lying to Jackie about her Yoga class, most of the time at least, and quite possibly, since we can’t find any trace of her, about the pal she was supposed to be meeting.’
‘Where does that take us, sir?’
He smiled at her across the dusty table. ‘You’re a woman. You tell me?’
Masters gulped. ‘Well, the obvious question, if not conclusion, is, was Mrs Charles having an affair? A middle-aged, attractive woman, maybe bored with her husband after twenty-five years - I was bored with mine after two, to tell the truth - with plenty of money and time on her hands.
‘She has a mystery pal whose second name her husband doesn’t know, and whom he’s never met. I’d say that she was at it. She had a boyfriend stashed away somewhere.’
Skinner nodded. ‘Or a girlfriend,’ he grunted. ‘These days you never know.
‘But yes, a man on the side; that fits with what we know of Carole. It ties in with Carl Medina’s story of the pass she made at him and with my own recollection of the woman from twenty years back.
‘It’s a bugger, right enough. It throws everything up in the air with Mr Martin’s investigation.’
‘Why’s that, sir?’
‘Because it puts Jackie back in the frame, for all his show of grief and shock when we told him about the fire. Maybe it was all an act. Maybe he realised what had happened with Medina. Maybe he found out about the boyfriend. And maybe, he just had enough. Except . . .’ He hesitated.
‘Jackie Charles loved that showroom of his like an only son. Even if he had decided to have his wife killed, I find it hard to believe that he’d have had it done that way. He’d just have arranged for her to have an accident.’
As he said the words, a shiver ran through him. He stopped short and gazed at the wall. ‘Are you all right, sir?’ asked Pamela Masters.
Skinner shook himself. ‘Oh yes, I’m all right. Someone just walked over my grave, that was all. Except, if things work out in a certain direction, I’m going to walk over his.’
She stared at him, puzzled, and a little frightened by his tone.
‘But back to today’s business,’ he said abruptly. Files were stacked high on the table in the CID Records Office. ‘I’ve been through all these and only two offer any live possibilities.
‘One is Jackie Charles, aforementioned.’ She looked at him in surprise. He nodded. ‘Yes. Jackie lived in Gullane at the time, and he knew that he was under suspicion of being involved in serious crimes. I was a gung-ho member of the squad, newly promoted Sergeant and out to make my name. Our paths had crossed before and he knew that I was after him. He knew what I drove and where I garaged it, plus he was in the motor business.
‘And yet . . .’ He stopped for a moment, and shook his head.
‘At the time, we weren’t within a mile of nailing Jackie, and he knew it. The fact is that apart from two abortive tips about where he kept his records, we’ve never been within a mile. Also, I was low down the CID food chain at the time. The man he really had to fear was Gillespie, my boss.
‘Jackie’s a calculating little bastard. As far as we’ve been able to tell he never has anything done unless there’s a real need for it. And there was no real need on his part to kill me, or even to give me a fright. He had the means, and the opportunity, but I can’t see any credible motive.’
‘Who’s the other live possibility?’ asked Sergeant Masters.
He smiled grimly across at her. ‘Actually, he’s dead. Which may be just as well for him.
‘Does the name Tony Manson mean anything to you?’
She thought for a moment, and a memory came back. ‘Wasn’t he murdered about a year ago? He was a gangleader, wasn’t he?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Tony was a businessman. Only his business was drugs, pubs and prostitution. He was a Field Marshal; other people led the common gangs. At the time of Myra’s accident he was my squad’s number one target. We had a street-level drug dealer in our hands, facing twenty years inside and he was ready to talk.
‘My job was to find someone who would corroborate his evidence that Tony Manson controlled the drug trade in Edinburgh. I was turning the city upside down at the time looking for that one brave soul. None of Tony’s places were safe from me. I caused him so much aggravation that he had to shut down his drugs network, and stop his girls selling sex on the side in the saunas.’ He chuckled, grimly. ‘He even had to make the go-go dancers in his pubs keep their bras on.
‘During that period, I, a humble newly-promoted DS like what you are now, personally cost Tony Manson a hell of a lot of money. But then Myra was killed and I was away from the job for a time. While I was off, our informant was found hanged in the toilets in the remand wing at Saughton, and the whole investigation collapsed.’
‘But, sir,’ asked Masters. ‘With Manson dead, how will you ever be able to prove that he had your car sabotaged, if it was him?’
‘I never will, Pamela. But I know a man who might be able to tell me, and if it was Tony, who might be able to give me the name of whoever it was cut that brake pipe for him. I’ll go and see him on Monday. There’ll be no point in you coming with me, though. If this bloke talks, it’ll be to me alone.
‘Anyway, that’s enough for today.’ As he picked up the files on Manson and Charles, there was a knock at the door, and Maggie Rose came into the room. He was surprised to see that she was grinning.
‘They said I’d find you here, boss,’ she said, giving a slight look of surprise when she saw Pamela Masters.
‘Sammy and I have had a busy day. I’ve just given Mr Martin some great news, and he said I should tell you too, in person, so that I could see the smile on your face.’