‘But towards who?’
‘That’s the scary thing. It doesn’t point towards anyone,’ she said, her voice rising with despair. ‘We’ve got sweet eff all and the day’s almost over.’
‘Okay,’ Gilchrist said. ‘Maybe I was wrong to put so much stock in Magner. But sometimes you have to push to the limit before you know when to back off.’
‘Like you did with Vicky Kelvin?’
‘That’s different. She wasn’t telling us-’
Jessie’s mobile rang, stopping their argument like an electronic referee.
She looked at the screen, muttered a curse, then made the connection. ‘Whatever it is, Lachie, I can’t make it. Okay?’ But she held the mobile to her ear, strangely muted for once, listening in silence while the metallic echo of a man’s voice fired at her.
She disconnected only when the echoes stopped.
Gilchrist glanced across at her. She seemed stunned, even scared. He looked back to the road ahead and waited, but Jessie sat in silence, her face to the window, as if searching for tell-tale signs of spring – she could wait a long time for these, he thought.
Just to break the silence, Gilchrist was about to call Stan when his mobile rang. He didn’t recognise the number but made the connection regardless. ‘DCI Gilchrist.’
‘DI Mac Smith here, sir. You asked me to call if anything turned up.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘I thought you should hear about a turn in events. Two of the women who filed formal complaints against Magner – Eleanor McInnes and Laura Dewar – have both just retracted their statements.’
Gilchrist recalled the names from their trawl through the paperwork, but his memory failed to pull up any specifics about either woman.
‘Did they offer any explanation?’ he asked.
‘Only that they were mistaken.’
‘Mistaken?’ He almost gasped. ‘Both of them?’
‘It’s strange, that’s for sure.’
Gilchrist’s mind wrestled with what Smith had just said. Strange did not come close. Downright unbelievable was more like it. Someone must have persuaded both women to drop their allegations. Maybe Magner himself had got to them; or someone who knew him. But if that was so, and you took that logic one more step forward, with all that was happening, was it possible that whoever massacred the McCullochs also knew Magner? If so, it pulled him right back into the centre of the equation, no matter what the evidence – or lack of it – suggested.
‘Do you think they were threatened?’
‘Both are denying it, just saying they’re having second thoughts.’
‘Are they saying they made it up? They were not assaulted?’
‘No. Just that the assaults were not as severe as they originally claimed them to be.’
‘So the sex was consensual?’
‘They’re not saying that, sir.’
‘I don’t get it,’ Gilchrist said. ‘They were either raped or they weren’t. Do they know each other?’
‘The information we have on file gives no indication that they do. But if you believe that, you believe in tooth fairies.’
‘Have they spoken to each other?’ Gilchrist asked. ‘You need to check their phone records.’
‘With all due respect, sir, you’re not my SIO.’
‘Sorry. Force of habit.’
‘We’re already looking into it,’ Smith said. ‘And we’ll be interviewing them again. I’ll keep you posted.’
As soon as DI Smith hung up, Gilchrist called Stan.
‘Have Jackie run a check on two women for me – Eleanor McInnes and Laura Dewar,’ he said, then told Stan about Smith’s call. ‘And see if Jackie can find something that links Magner, the McCullochs and/or Stratheden Enterprises to one or both of them. Then have her look into their bank accounts – find out if any money’s changed hands. Maybe we’re dealing with a greasing of palms rather than a physical threat. You know, here’s a couple of thou to drop the charges, that sort of thing.’
As he ended the call, Jessie said, ‘You’re caught up with Magner.’
‘He’s the common denominator.’
‘Maybe we should stop spinning our wheels and talk to the one person who knows what he’s really like.’
Gilchrist frowned for a moment. ‘His ex-wife?’
‘Right first time.’
‘Give Jackie a call,’ he said, ‘and get her to find out where she lives.’
‘A call? That’ll be a bit one-sided.’
‘Just text her then, for crying out loud.’
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the North Street Office.
Jackie was in her office, seated behind her computer, crutches propped against the back wall, hair like a tangle of rusted steel wool. When she saw Gilchrist, she reached into her tray and handed him a printout of Magner’s marriage certificate.
‘Well done, Jackie,’ Gilchrist said. ‘What about McInnes and Dewar?’ Jackie wobbled her head, and he helped her out with, ‘Still working on them?’
She nodded.
‘Once you’re done,’ he said, ‘just email Jessie, Stan and me with whatever you’ve got.’ He was about to leave the room when he heard her groan – Jackie’s signal to wait a moment. He turned back to see her lift another printout from the tray.
Gilchrist took the sheet from her. ‘Looks like Magner’s a widower,’ he said to Jessie, tapping the death certificate. ‘Sheila Magner. Died September ’85. Cause of death: heart failure from drug overdose.’
‘When did they get married?’ Jessie asked.
‘August ’81.’
‘Only four years. And it’s within the same window as the rapes.’ Jessie turned to Jackie. ‘Did Magner ever remarry?’
Jackie wobbled her head.
‘So that’s it? A big strapping lad in his twenties with muscles and gallons of testosterone and a sexual appetite that he feeds by raping women-’
‘Allegedly.’
‘… and he marries only once? Let’s see that other sheet.’
Gilchrist handed over Magner’s marriage certificate.
‘Sheila Ramsay,’ she said. ‘Administrative assistant. A year older than Magner.’ She looked at Gilchrist. ‘I’d be interested to know if he got an insurance payout. Maybe that’s how he started his business.’
‘Magner and McCulloch started Stratheden in ’86,’ Gilchrist said. ‘His wife died in September ’85. So if Stratheden was registered at the start of ’86, the insurance money might have just come through-’
‘We need to check that out.’
Gilchrist turned to Jackie. ‘Find out if there was any life insurance on Sheila Magner. If there was, how much, when was it paid, and to whom? If it went to Magner, find out what he did with it.’
Jackie scribbled on a notepad.
‘Then pull Stratheden’s records from Companies House. Find out from council records when they were awarded their first local-government contract and how much it was for.’
Jackie looked up at Gilchrist, as if to ask, Anything else?
‘Thanks, Jackie. That’ll do for now,’ he said.
By the time he and Jessie reached the door, Jackie’s fingers were already tapping the keyboard with the speed of a woodpecker.
Back out on North Street, the wind had pulled the temperature below freezing. The sky hung low, as grey as lead, and looked just as impenetrable. Spring could be months away. But at least the chill had cleared Gilchrist’s hangover.
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘My stomach’s grumbling.’
CHAPTER 13
The Central reeked of alcohol and thrummed with the camaraderie of a busy town pub on a late Saturday afternoon. They found a table in the corner and ordered their drinks: the usual for Gilchrist; a cup of coffee for Jessie. They faced each other in silence as the barman placed the glass and the mug on the table, then asked if they would like to see the menu.