Hard Rain, Cold Hearts, page 24
‘Fair enough, are you wanting Asif to give you a hand? Con tells me he’s a good lad. Smart and hardworking. I don’t have a problem with that, it’ll be good experience for the boy.’
‘Con’s right. We’ve got a good un in Asif. He’ll make a cracking detective. But that’s not who I want. He’s plenty on his plate right now with his Govanhill enquiries. No, I want him to carry on with that, he’s done a lot of work on those on his own already and I think he’s close to getting some detections. I’d like Jan Hodge to neighbour me if that’s alright. She’s already part of the Holmes team and is familiar with the enquiry. We could hit the ground running if Jan’s involved.’
‘Okay, that’s fine by me. I’ll let you tell her the good news. And can we meet daily, let’s say, 0800 hrs just for five minutes, it’ll help keep me in the loop. And thanks, I appreciate your help.’
*
‘Just another two boxes and I think that’s our lot. At least we only had to move the stuff a couple of doors up the corridor. But I agree with you, having our own office makes much more sense, and I’ve phoned Colin at his work, his mother can cover the kids for the next few days, so we can work on as late as you want, I know there’s a lot to get through.’
‘That’s good of you, Jan. Having you assist is going to be a big help. Just navigating my way through this stuff would have taken me forever and we don’t have time to waste.’
Jan switched on the kettle.
‘Coffee, tea and heck, we’ve even got biscuits, things are looking up. Listen, you didn’t finish what you were saying before. How did Asif take it? I expect he’s disappointed not to be involved.’
Campbell screwed up his nose.
‘Yeah, he was disappointed, gutted in fact. I would be too if I were in his shoes, but he understands that it makes sense to have you involved, there wouldn’t have been time for me to keep explaining why we were doing certain things. His opportunity to be involved in a MI will come, it’s just not going to be now. Anyway, he’s away to Govanhill, he’s got another two crimes to add to his list, he’s not going to be short of things to do. I’ll touch base at the end of the day, just to check to see how things are going.’
Jan handed Campbell a mug of tea.
‘Sounds good. Now, where do you want to start?’
Campbell rubbed his temples.
‘There are two things I’d like to look at right away. Firstly, the PM report that was done on the victim. And after that, I’d like to read the statement that was taken from his girlfriend. I’m sure you mentioned that he had a girlfriend, but I seem to recall you thought there was something strange about it.’
Jan nodded as she leafed through a folder.
‘Here’s the PM report. And you’re right about his girlfriend’s statement, I did say that it seemed rather odd, she didn’t go to the party with him, and she didn’t seem that upset when the cops took her statement, which is the bit I find really weird as he’d only been dead a few days. Give me a minute, I’ll need to log into the system and print it off.’
Campbell read the PM report while Jan printed off the statement.
‘What’s up? You look perplexed.’ asked Jan picking the statement up from the printer.
Campbell chewed on the end of his pen.
‘Not quite sure. It’s probably nothing. The pathologists report confirms that he wasn’t raped. And although his trousers were found around his knees, there was no blood or semen on his buttocks or legs.’
Jan handed Campbell the statement.
‘Probably went in there for a pee don’t you think, gap in the fence, by the railway bridge, quite discreet having been caught short on his way home. We know he’d drank several pints.’
Campbell lent back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.
‘Maybe. His blood alcohol reading is quite high, he’d certainly had four or five pints. But he was less than ten minutes from home, and he only just left the social club. If he’d needed a pee, you would have thought he’d have gone before he left the party.’
‘I suppose.’ said Jan unpacking a box of files.
Campbell turned to the last page of the report.
‘It says here that they found he had a tear in his anus. An old injury apparently that was partially healed and covered in scar tissue. Huh, I never knew that you learn something new every day.’
‘Knew what?’ asked Jan.
‘That you could get that type of injury from playing sport or even more alarmingly, from severe constipation! I just assumed that an injury like that would only have occurred from sexual activity, but there you go, this report states there is no evidence to support that.’
Campbell picked up and started to peruse the statement. The two-page document didn’t take long to read. He turned to Jan.
‘Well, that doesn’t tell us very much, certainly nothing about their relationship. It doesn’t even say how long they had been going out. Not wanting to be hyper critical but it’s not a great statement, considering it’s taken by someone who’s part of an MI enquiry team, I would have expected better. But that’s by the bye. Look can you see if you can get the girl on the phone. She’s got to have more information than what’s contained in this. Her name’s Shona Webster. Home address 3, Seyton Ave, Giffnock.’
Jan nodded as Campbell started to search through a mountain of folders and paperwork on his desk.
‘Yep, I’ll give her a call. I’ve still got the statement on my screen. And now what are you fretting about?’
‘I can’t seem to find the folder I usually take out with me. It’s got a pair of reading glasses and my favourite pen in it. It’s leather and has my initials on it, I was given it as a present years ago when I left the Surveillance Unit. I could really do with finding it.’
‘Ok, time for cognitive recall mode.’ said Jan gesturing for Campbell to sit. ‘When did you definitely last have it with you? Blank everything else out and concentrate solely on that.’
Campbell shut his eyes and thought for several moments.
Suddenly his eyes opened wide.
‘Bingo. I remember I had it when I visited Aunt Chrissie with Asif. I had the wallet of photographs in it. Yes, I’m positive I had it then. I can remember putting it on a shelf in the front room when I was showing Aunt Chrissie the photos. Yep, no doubt about it, I must have left it there, it can’t be anywhere else.’
‘There you go, simples. Cognitive recall works every time. Well, nearly every time. Don’t know how many sets of keys or misplaced items I’ve found using it. Unclutter your mind, retrace your steps, and there you go. It was one of the more useful training courses they sent me on.’
Campbell lifted the phone.
‘You give Shona Webster a call and I’ll phone Asif. He’s down in Govanhill this morning, I’ll ask him to swing by Aunt Chrissie’s and pick up my folder on his way back to the office. If Webster is at home, I want to head there straight away. We haven’t got time to waste.’
Chapter 22
The detached blonde sandstone villa set back from the road was surrounded by a stone wall and a large security gate. Mature pine trees, 40-or 50-feet tall, ringed the house casting long damp shadows across the scarified front lawn. A red chip driveway meandered its way from the roadway past neatly pruned herbaceous borders to the solid oak panelled front door that was festooned with ivy and a Christmas wreath. It was an impressive looking property.
‘You’re not short of a bob or two if you can afford to live around here.’ remarked Campbell as he locked the car.
Jan looked at her watch.
‘We’re going to have to get a shift on. It’s nearly ten now and she said she had to be in town by twelve, she’s got a job over Christmas working in a pub.’
‘Fine. We’ll just cut to the chase; it won’t take that long.’
The front door was answered by a tall slim girl with long dark hair, she was wearing a green sweatshirt with ‘Secret’s Bar’ blazoned on the front. With the introductions over, Shona smiled politely and showed her visitors into the spacious front lounge. A twelve-foot Christmas tree, tastefully decorated with red and silver baubles, filled the space in front of the bay window.
Campbell and Jan took a seat on a leather Chesterfield settee while Shona sat on a single chair next to the fireplace. She perched herself on the edge of the seat nervously twiddling a ring on her little finger.
Campbell sensed her unease.
‘We appreciate you seeing us at short notice like this, and I know you’ve to get to your work, so we won’t keep you long. We’ve just got a few questions that we’d like to ask you.’
Shona sighed and sank back into the chair.
‘I’ve already given an officer a statement, I don’t think there’s much that I can help you with. I wasn’t at the party; I was away at a family gathering in Edinburgh.’
‘Yes, we’re aware of that. But it’s more background information that we’re interested in getting today. For example, can I ask how you met Chris and how long you’d been going out?’
‘We met through a mutual friend who was doing the same course as Chris. We hung out as part of a group, went to the library, had coffee and drinks in the union, just a group of mates really. We were just close friends for the first few months. Then he asked me out, and we went on a few dates, that was about nine months ago.’
Campbell nodded as he took down some notes.
‘I see. Now I know you said you weren’t at the party because you were at a family event in Edinburgh, but from what I can gather, it appears that it was mainly people from the university’s athletics section who were there that night, I’m interested in whether you were invited or knew any of the people who were at that party?’
Shona shook her head.
‘Those were Chris’s other friends, I didn’t really know any of them, I’m not into athletics so I wasn’t surprised that I wasn’t invited to the party. Though, as I told you, I couldn’t have gone anyway.’
‘Didn’t it bother you that you weren’t invited?’
‘Not really. I didn’t know them, they weren’t my friends, so no; it didn’t bother me at all.’
‘Okay fine, I just assumed you would have been invited as Chris’s girlfriend.’
‘Well, you assumed wrong.’ said Shona tersely.
Jan looked awkwardly at Campbell.
‘Yes, clearly, I did. But can we move on? I want to ask you about something that is in your statement.’
Shona’s eyes narrowed, she stared at Campbell suspiciously.
‘Oh, what’s that?’
‘In your statement you say that you hadn’t seen Chris in nearly two weeks. Is that correct?’
Shona nodded hesitantly.
‘That seems quite a long time not to have seen each other given you’d been going out for nine months. You go to the same university, and you only live a couple of miles from each other. I was just wondering whether there was a particular reason why you hadn’t seen him?’
Shona fell silent and looked at her feet. She started to quietly sob.
‘I’m sorry to have to ask you that, I can see it’s upset you. But if we’re going to be able to catch Chris’s killer, it’s really important that we get answers to these questions.’
Jan leant forward and passed Shona a tissue. She dabbed her mascara smudged eyes and breathed deeply.
‘God, this is hard.’
She took another tissue and blew her nose.
‘I hadn’t seen him for two weeks because we’d broken up. I couldn’t continue seeing him, I just couldn’t. I didn’t say that to the officer at the time, it was too soon after it happened, I was still stunned, it was just so awful.’
Campbell glanced at Jan; they both knew this was potentially significant.
‘I appreciate it’s difficult for you, but I need to ask you to tell me why you couldn’t continue to see him?’
Shona sniffed and shook her head. With no more tissues she wiped her nose on her sleeve.
‘He told me he was bi-sexual and had been seeing someone else. Some guy from the athletics section, he was going to tell me all the details, he said he wanted to be honest with me, but I told him no, I didn’t want to know the details, it came completely out of the blue, I just couldn’t face it. There was no shouting or screaming, I didn’t even feel particularly angry, I just felt totally numb. We were sitting in this very room when he told me. There was no discussion, I just asked him to leave. I told him I didn’t want to see him again. And that was the last time I saw him before he was murdered.’
Shona squeezed her eyelids shut, desperate that no more tears would fall. She had her pride; she had been hurt enough.
*
Asif sipped his tea as Roisin busied herself doing mundane admin tasks at her desk. Not much had been said since he arrived ten minutes ago, but it was clear to him that she was hurting. The deaths of Jozef Rybar and Ctibor Varga had been shocking enough, but the unexpected death of Istvan Lakatos had hit her hardest of all. She couldn’t believe it when she heard the news, a third death in less than three weeks, all young and seemingly fit men, it was almost too much to comprehend. She had bumped into Istvan in Calder Street on Saturday morning when she was out walking Larsson. They had chatted for a while and agreed to meet again today, to go over the last-minute arrangements for the two funerals that were taking place this week. Now he was dead, the third Roma man to die in similar circumstances. It didn’t seem real; never in her working life had she experienced such a wretched time.
It took a lot to knock Roisin down, she was resilient and tough as teak. She was used to adversity and batting away the brickbats that life throws at you. A career in Social Work takes you into the darkest recesses of people’s lives in a way few other jobs do. Her present job was proving to be no different. You see at first hand the cruelty and unfairness that is the day-to-day experience of people living in poverty or in abusive relationships. To get through your working day, you learn to develop coping mechanisms, you build a protective shell, an arm’s- length barrier that creates just enough space to let you do your job. You still care of course, too deeply in some cases, but you have to find a way to cope, to function, that lets you live your life in the midst of all the pain and turmoil.
Asif was about to speak when the phone on Roisin’s desk rang. He sat back in his chair as she answered it. It was clear that whoever was on the phone was reporting yet another crime. He listened carefully as Roisin elicited the details of what had happened. A gent’s mountain bike, this time a green one, (mental note to himself, that’s the third bike stolen in little over a week). He zoned back to the conversation. The bike was stolen sometime between 1030 last night and 0900 hrs this morning from the common close at 48 Annette Street. (Another mental note. Very likely part of Eric McNeish’s paper run, all three bikes had been stolen within a quarter of a mile radius of each other). He took out a pad and scribbled down some notes. It was strange how much information he could glean even though he was only hearing one part of the conversation.
The complainer’s name appeared to be Ianis Stanciu, a Romanian national. He had padlocked his bike to the stair railings in the close outside his ground floor flat late last night. He discovered the bike had been stolen this morning when he left his flat to pick up some milk. The thief had cut through the padlocked chain with bolt cutters. The remains of the chain were still attached to the railings.
As a mental exercise Asif had found the last few minutes stimulating, he waited for Roisin to finish writing her notes before checking to see if he’d missed anything.
‘I just need one or two more details and I can raise the crime report for you when I get back to the office. You’ll still be named as the reporter, but at least it will save you a trip to the office, which I know you could do without, especially after what happened yesterday.’
Roisin smiled weakly.
‘Thanks, that would be really helpful. Here, take these notes, you should get what you need on there.’
Roisin handed Asif a pad of paper. It was clear from her demeanour that she wasn’t fully concentrating, she was still in shock at the news of Istvan’s death.
‘I just don’t understand it, it doesn’t make any sense. It wasn’t even that cold on Saturday night, certainly not as cold as it’s been recently. And it wasn’t wet, I’m sure it didn’t rain through the night.’
Asif nodded sympathetically.
‘And are you sure that he didn’t have his coat on when they found him?’ asked Roisin.
Asif raised his eyebrows.
‘That’s what it says on the incident. He had a T-shirt and jumper on, but he wasn’t wearing a coat.’
Roisin sighed and shook her head.
‘That just seems bonkers to me. He had his coat on when I met him on Saturday morning, he always had it on. I don’t think I ever met him when he wasn’t wearing it. None of it makes any sense.’
‘Can’t say it makes much sense to me either, but just like the other two, there doesn’t appear to be any suspicious circumstances. The nightshift CID attended the locus, but there was no sign of violence or any sort of foul play. He was still breathing when they found him on the bench, but like Ctibor Varga, he succumbed shortly after arriving at the hospital. But there’s not much use in us speculating as to what happened, we’re going to have to wait to see what the PM report says.’
Roisin got up and put Larsson’s lead on.
‘Do you know when we might get that? The Imam from the Butterbiggins Mosque phoned shortly before you arrived, they would like to help with the funeral arrangements. He told me that Istvan had been attending the Mosque nearly every day for the last few weeks and was committed to converting to Islam. He told me that the mosque wanted to pay any funeral costs, as they knew he had no money or any immediate family. Apparently, he lost his parents during the war in Kosovo. In keeping with Islamic law, they are keen that the funeral takes place as soon as possible. And it will be a burial and not a cremation like the other two we have this week.’
