‘Except maybe sour ones,’ Laidlaw muttered.
‘I suppose we could try asking the wife where we might find him,’ Lilley said without enthusiasm.
‘Or we could just barge into any number of Cam Colvin’s establishments while making a nuisance of ourselves. You got any idea what he looks like?’
‘Not much hair, squat and chunky, high-pitched voice.’
‘I think I know him. He had a handful of the landlord’s shirt front when I dropped into the Parlour. If I’d arrived a minute or two later, the pipe wrench might have been getting some air.’
Lilley puffed out his cheeks and exhaled. ‘It’s actually a spanner, hence the nickname. I’m not sure DI Milligan knows there’s a difference. Where should we start, do you think?’
‘This time of day, maybe the cab office.’
‘The cab office it is,’ Bob Lilley agreed.
16
No one at the cab office, however, had ever heard of anyone called Spanner Thomson or Cam Colvin, cross their heart and hope to die, so Laidlaw and Lilley jumped back in the car and tried two separate bookies’ shops, where again ignorance was akin to bliss. As they left the second, however, instinct told Laidlaw that maybe they should sit in the car for a minute. Sure enough, a youth soon left the betting shop and crossed the road, disappearing inside a drinking club. The detectives followed him and found Cam Colvin and his men in the main room, parked around a circular table, their card game having just been interrupted by the messenger. The air was thick with smoke. Open bottles of spirits were dotted around the table, along with piles of coins and notes.
‘I’m guessing the house always wins,’ Laidlaw said, hands in pockets, feet spread as he faced Cam Colvin.
‘Do I know you?’
‘Your sidekicks do. I’m DC Laidlaw.’
‘I’ve heard the name, but that’s about all.’
‘Nice to see you again, lads.’ Laidlaw turned back towards Colvin, who was doing his best not to let his puzzlement show. ‘They didn’t tell you that I chased them out of the Parlour?’
‘You’re lucky you were still standing when we walked out of there,’ one of the men snarled. Laidlaw kept his attention on Colvin.
‘See,’ he said, ‘that right there could be construed as a threat towards an officer of the law. Sort of thing that could lead to court proceedings for all concerned. Lucky for you we’re here on other business. It concerns Mr Thomson.’ He nodded towards the man with the smallest amount of money in front of him. ‘Looks like we’ll be doing him a favour, too. One more bad hand would wipe him out.’
‘What’s going on?’ Thomson asked in his almost falsetto voice.
‘Murder weapon found in the park near your home,’ Laidlaw informed him.
‘Which murder is that, then?’ Colvin asked.
‘Your right-hand man, Bobby Carter.’
‘Nothing to do with me!’ Thomson barked. The eyes of the other gang members were on him.
‘Shouldn’t take long at the station, then,’ Lilley said affably. ‘And like DC Laidlaw says, we’ll be saving you from possible financial ruin and the wrath of your good lady wife.’
Laidlaw had noted Thomson’s hand edging towards the jacket that was draped over the back of his chair. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ he said. ‘Your boss wouldn’t like what happens next.’
‘I’m not sure I’m liking any of this,’ Colvin said quietly. ‘But the man’s right, Spanner. Best if you go with them and answer their questions.’
Thomson threw him a pleading look, in the hope of persuading him of his innocence. In return, Colvin gave a little nod, bottom lip pushed out slightly. Thomson rose slowly to his feet and lifted his jacket from the chair.
‘Can’t have you carrying a weapon,’ Lilley advised. There was another nod from Colvin, so Thomson took the spanner from its specially sewn pocket and placed it on the table, where it gleamed against the green baize. He then scooped up what little money sat next to it.
‘If you’re minded to get rough with him,’ Colvin told the detectives, ‘you’ll be paid back tenfold, that’s a promise.’ He paused. ‘You must see what’s happening here. Kill one of my men and then try sticking another in the frame. It’s so obvious it’s almost insulting.’
‘We will find whoever did it, trust me on that,’ Laidlaw said. ‘It’d be nice to get on with that job without the Battle of the Bulge erupting all around us.’
Colvin made show of checking his surroundings. ‘I don’t see a battle — do any of you lads see one?’
There were shakes of the head.
‘That’s the thing about hostilities, though,’ Laidlaw said. ‘They creep towards you almost invisibly. You’ll sense their approach but they can still surprise you, by which time it’s too late. I’m guessing this card game is a regular thing, so it had to happen, otherwise you might look overly rattled by events and that would get back to the likes of John Rhodes and Matt Mason. Doesn’t pay to let weakness show, whether you’re playing cards or doing business.’
Colvin seemed to be trying to take the measure of Laidlaw. He even leaned back a little in his chair as if this might help. But in the end all he did was shake his head at the impossibility of the task.
‘Don’t keep him out too late,’ he said, turning back to the hand of cards in front of him. ‘Whose turn was it to bet?’
‘I’ve not done nothing,’ Thomson felt it necessary to stress as he followed Bob Lilley towards the door. ‘I tell you, I’ve not.’
‘And we believe you when you say that,’ Laidlaw assured him. ‘We accept that statement one hundred per cent.’
He couldn’t resist a final backwards glance towards the table. Colvin was picking up a card from the deck, placing it in his hand and discarding another. The spanner had become mere ornamentation. The game progressed almost as if the existence of the police inquiry had no meaning here.
As soon as the door was closed, however, Colvin tossed his cards onto the table. He was vibrating with rage.
‘If any of you knows anything, this is definitely the time to speak.’
Mickey Ballater, Dod Menzies and Panda Paterson shared looks and shrugs. Paterson cleared his throat.
‘You know what Bobby was like. We all had words with him from time to time.’
‘Just words, though,’ Menzies said, as though he were underlining a sentence in a primary-school jotter.
‘Teasing mostly,’ Ballater agreed. ‘Which isn’t to say Bobby didn’t sometimes deserve more.’
‘You mean a punch? A slap? A doing?’ Colvin’s eyes had narrowed even further than usual.
‘I just mean he sometimes got a bit up himself. He’d have a drink in him from some club or other and maybe some dolly bird in tow who he was trying to impress and he’d start winding us up, telling everyone we were his message boys and he was the grocer.’
‘We’re not going to speak ill of the dead,’ Paterson added, ‘and nobody around this table harmed a hair on his head — God’s honest truth — but the guy could be hard work, and I think that got to Spanner more than the rest of us.’
‘Oh aye?’
Paterson was looking for someone to back him up, but his friends seemed suddenly to have been deprived of the power of speech.
‘You’ve known Spanner longer than any of us,’ he explained to Colvin, ‘and that’s important to him. You’re like a brother or something. Then Bobby arrives and things start to change. You’re not confiding in Spanner the way you used to. Now it’s late-night drinks with just you and Bobby.’