‘How long did it take till you decided I merited the van?’
‘Not long,’ Fox conceded. ‘But that’s beside the point. I was being watched before I started misbehaving.’
‘Then there’s something you’re obviously hiding from everybody. ’
‘I’m honest as the day is long, DS Breck.’
‘This is winter, Inspector Fox – the days are pretty short.’
Fox ignored this. ‘In the interview room at Torphichen, when Traynor was spelling it all out and Billy Giles was trying hard not to do a little dance around the table, there was a look my boss gave me…’
‘McEwan?’
Fox nodded. ‘I don’t think he knew. I mean, he knew, but he hadn’t been in the loop for long. He was asking himself what was going on.’
‘Maybe he can find out for you.’
‘Maybe.’
‘You don’t trust him?’
‘Hard to know. But here’s the thing – the tail on me coincides with the new assignment I’d been given.’
‘By “assignment” you mean me?’
‘Yes.’ The caffeine was getting to Fox; he could feel it pounding through him. When his mobile started ringing, he didn’t recognise the tone. It was the first time someone had called him on his new phone.
‘Hello?’ he answered.
‘I’ve got something for you,’ Annie Inglis said. She was speaking so softly, he could hardly hear her. He held the phone more firmly to his ear, and pressed a finger into his other ear.
‘Is there anybody else there?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘Then why are you whispering?’
‘Do you want this or not?’ she asked, sounding irritated. Then, without waiting for his answer, she reeled off a phone number.
‘Hang on,’ he said, scrabbling for a pen and brushing flakes of croissant from the paper napkin on his plate. While she repeated the number, Fox jotted it down.
‘Her name’s Dawlish. Cecilia Dawlish.’ Inglis ended the call before Fox could utter any form of thanks.
‘What’s the code for Australia?’ he asked Breck. It took Breck thirty seconds and a few keystrokes to come up with the answer.
‘Zero-zero-six-one,’ he said. ‘They’re eight to ten hours ahead of us.’
Fox looked at his watch. ‘Meaning it’s evening there – and hellish expensive.’ He held up his new phone. ‘This is pay-as-you-go,’ he explained.
‘My treat,’ Breck responded, handing over his own Motorola.
‘They might be able to trace the number back to you,’ Fox warned him, but Breck just shrugged.
‘I’m not the one making the call, though, am I?’ he countered.
It turned out that the number Inglis had given Fox was for a mobile. Dawlish was in her car when she answered.
‘It’s Detective Constable Gilchrist here,’ Fox explained, concentrating his attention on the world outside the café window.
‘Yeah?’
‘CEOP Edinburgh. You had us looking into a local officer called Breck?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Is this a bad time to talk?’
‘I’m headed home, DC Gilchrist. What is it you need?’
‘I’ve been put in charge of the paperwork.’
‘Just bear in mind what we told you at the start – the more who know about this, the tougher it is to keep it quiet.’
‘Understood.’ Fox paused. ‘So you’ve not arrested him yet?’
‘We’ll let you know when that happens.’
‘Right,’ Fox said, turning his attention to the listening Breck. ‘So what is it you want us to do with Breck?’
‘Just get us anything you can. Now tell me about these bloody forms you’re filling in.’
‘Just wondered if it was okay to put you down as our main contact. ’
‘Sure.’
‘And this phone number?’
‘Seems to be the one you’ve got.’
‘I suppose so, yes.’ Fox thought of something. ‘We managed to gain entry to Breck’s home.’
‘Yeah?’
‘His computer was clean, but we took a look at his latest credit card bill – SEIL Ents.’
‘That’s the one.’
‘What do the letters stand for?’
‘The bastard’s initials – Simeon Edward Ian Latham. Sim to his mates.’
‘The payment was in US dollars…’
‘He’s got an account in the Caribbean. Latham’s been running this thing for years without us knowing – he’s learned all the old tricks and invented a few of his own.’ Dawlish paused. ‘This is a secure line, right, Gilchrist?’
‘Absolutely,’ Fox assured her. ‘And thanks for your help.’
‘Paperwork’s killing this job,’ Dawlish commented, ending the call.
Fox stared at Jamie Breck. ‘Far as the Aussies are concerned, you’re still in the frame.’
‘Thanks for not setting the record straight.’
‘Thing is, Jamie, we did one night’s surveillance on you, and the second night was pulled. Thinking seemed to be that the Aussies didn’t need you any more, or had crossed your name off their list. When I spoke to Gilchrist last night, he as good as said the same thing – Sim Latham was headed for trial.’
‘And he’s not?’
‘Inquiry’s ongoing, according to Dawlish.’
‘So why did Gilchrist tell you different?’
‘Maybe we should ask him.’
‘I can go solo on this,’ Breck said, ‘if you’d rather keep out of it.’
But Fox shook his head before attacking the final chunk of croissant.
‘Are we done here?’ Breck asked, tapping the edge of his laptop’s screen. Fox glanced at his watch: fifteen minutes left on the meter.
‘There’s one final thing,’ he said. ‘And that computer of yours could come in handy.’ He wiped the pastry crumbs from his mouth. ‘Something I asked you when we were at the pool hall.’
‘Yes?’
‘I asked if Charlie Brogan could have been one of the developers. ’
‘We can take a look,’ Breck said, busying himself at the keyboard. Within a couple of minutes, he had found enough information to confirm that CBBJ was indeed part of the consortium.
‘CB stands for Charles Brogan,’ Fox commented, ‘but what about BJ?’
‘Broughton, Joanna?’ Breck guessed.
‘That makes sense, I suppose.’ Fox was peering at the screen. ‘I got a look at his diary, you know…’
‘What?’ Breck was staring at him.
‘Brogan’s diary. Joanna Broughton asked me to drop it into Leith Police Station.’ Fox paused. ‘It’s a long story.’
Breck folded his arms. ‘I’ve got time, partner.’
‘I recognised her when she was standing outside the station. Offered her a lift home.’
‘To the penthouse?’
Fox nodded. ‘Triplex, actually.’
‘You were inside? She knew you were a cop?’
Fox kept nodding. ‘Leith wanted to see Brogan’s appointments diary. She asked me if I’d take it.’
Breck was chuckling. ‘It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for. I can’t believe you got away with it.’
‘I didn’t. On the way out, I bumped into Gordon Lovatt. She told him who I was, and he got on to Leith, who got on to DI Stoddart and her merry men.’
Breck gave a low whistle, then was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Was the diary worth the effort?’ he eventually asked.
‘Not really. Work was drying up for Charlie Brogan. He spent more time planning what TV shows to watch than scheduling meetings.’ Fox paused to collect his thoughts. ‘Think it through, though. Vince Faulkner works on one of Brogan’s projects. He’s last seen in a casino owned by Brogan’s other half. He winds up dead and his body’s dumped at yet another site owned by Brogan’s company. Then, just to put some icing on top, Brogan goes for a swim in the Forth and doesn’t bother coming up for air.’
Breck was rubbing the stubble on the underside of his chin. ‘You should take this to Billy Giles.’
‘Oh, sure,’ Fox replied. ‘Because I’m dead sure DCI Giles would take me seriously.’ Breck had opened his mouth, but Fox stilled him with a gesture of the hand. ‘And you can hardly go to him with it, because you’re his little Judas. So where exactly does that leave us?’ When Breck didn’t answer, Fox glanced at his watch again. ‘I need to put more money in the meter,’ he said.