Hard Rain, Cold Hearts, page 30
Rowling spoke quietly in a thick Devonian accent.
‘Adrian Henry Rowling.’
‘And I’m Mr Rowling’s solicitor, Paul Melville.’
‘Thank you. Today is Thursday 15th December 2002 and the time is 0912 hrs. This interview is taking place within interview room 1 at Aikenhead Road Police Office. Mr Rowling, before this interview commences, I must caution you that …’
*
‘Any coffee on the go Con?’ asked Superintendent McLean who had just walked into the CID general office.
‘I’m supposed to be writing a report for the next meeting of the Police Authority, but I can’t concentrate on it, I’m too distracted by what’s going on downstairs. This is a big day, there’s a lot riding on the outcome of that interview.’
Con looked up from his desk and smiled.
‘Sit yourself down Russell and I’ll make you one. Just milk, is that right?’
Superintendent McLean nodded.
Con started to chuckle.
‘You know you’ve not changed much in nearly 29 years, only when we were at Tulliallan, it was your exams you were fretting about and not the interview of some murder suspect!’
Superintendent McLean grinned.
‘Yeah, I suppose that’s true.’
‘And do you know what’s the most annoying thing about that?’ asked Con pouring milk into the mugs.
The Superintendent shook his head.
‘You still got 80 odd percent while I struggled to scrape a pass. But at least I was still chilled about it, you on the other hand, not so much.’
‘Aye, you’re right enough. I always was a bit of a worrier.’
‘Well, it ain’t done you any harm, you’ve done pretty well for yourself.’
Superintendent McLean smiled.
‘I never understood why you never sat your promotion exams; you’d have made a fine gaffer.’
‘I never felt I needed that hassle, sometimes it’s just easier being a cop, I’ve got enough stress in my life looking after Mrs Niblett!’
Con peered over the top of his glasses.
‘That last remark was tongue in cheek just in case you were in any doubt.’
Superintendent McLean’s thoughts had moved on.
‘Tell me this Con, do you think Campbell will get a result, you know him better than me, what’s your gut feeling?’
Con put down his mug.
‘You know, I reckon he will. As I’ve told you before, I like him, he’s different, he’s not like the others. Some think he’s a bit arrogant, but he’s anything but. He’s just got confidence in his own ability. And it doesn’t bother him in the slightest what the others think of him, and I admire that. It’s funny, but in many respects Campbell and his trainee Asif are very alike, I see many of the same qualities in him. He’s going to make a fine detective. You see, they’ve both got integrity, they set themselves high standards and they’re not prepared to compromise them. That’s what sets them apart. Neither of them are in the Lodge, and they don’t care one jot about the Rangers, which makes a refreshing change. It doesn’t bother Campbell that he’s not part of the gang, he’s professional, he knows his job and he just gets on with it. So, yes, if I were a betting man, I think he’ll get a result. But time will tell, we’re going to know soon enough.’
Superintendent McLean was mulling over what Con had just said when there was a quiet tap at the door. It was Asif.
‘Sorry to interrupt you, sir.’
‘Not a problem, what can we do for you.’
‘I’ve got to go out for bit. Con, you’ve got my mobile number, I’ll not be far away so I can be back in ten minutes, you know if anything happens with Campbell and Jan can you give me a call?’
Con nodded.
‘Roger, no problem, I’ll give you a shout if there’s any news.’
*
It had threatened to rain all morning, but now the heavens had well and truly opened, cold icy rain was thundering onto his windscreen. Asif flicked the wipers to double speed, he had to otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to continue driving. Fortunately, he hadn’t far to go. Several vehicles were already parked along the cemetery road when he arrived. He found a space between a van and a taxi that offered a view of what appeared to be the newly dug grave.
He had wanted to come. He’d never met Istvan Lakatos, but through his work in Govanhill and his friendship with Roisin he felt a strong connection to him. Much like he did with Jozef Rybar and to a lesser extent Ctibor Varga. It was the least he could do to pay his respects.
Asif had recognised the Imam immediately. Short, fat, and bald headed, Asif played cricket with his brother and had seen him at Shawholm watching some of their games. His squat, rotund figure was unmistakable. The Imam was standing with a group of six other men, dressed sombrely in dark clothing, they stood huddled by the side of a black van trying to avoid the worst of the rain. Standing nearby was a group of half a dozen other mourners. The person in the dark green coat and dungarees holding a large umbrella was Roisin Byrne, sheltering under the umbrella next to her was Maeve Healy. The other four men who appeared to be in their company were Roma, judging by their black hair and olive coloured skin.
Mercifully the rain started to ease. Asif watched as four of the men lifted the coffin from the rear of the black van. Led by the Imam, reciting a prayer, they walked slowly towards the newly dug grave. About 50 metres along the path, two council workers sat in their van, waiting respectfully to infill the grave when the prayers and readings had finished.
If the funeral had been in Pakistan, there would have been no requirement to have a coffin. Istvan’s body would have been carried wrapped only in white sheets and placed in a grave on his right-side facing Mecca, in accordance with tradition. Scots law, however, dictated that he must be buried in a coffin, but in keeping with his newfound faith, Istvan would be buried facing southeast, towards Islam’s most holy city.
Asif wound down his window so he could hear the Imam’s prayer. The Nafl was a familiar refrain to him. He had learned to recite the prayer for his grandfather’s funeral when he was a young boy in Lahore.
O God, forgive our living and our dead, those who are present among us and those who are absent, our young and our old.
O God, whoever you keep alive, keep him alive in Islam and whoever you cause to die, cause him to die in faith.
No sooner had he finished reciting the prayer when his phone rang. He wound his window up so as not to disturb the other mourners. It was Conway asking him to return to the office immediately, the interview was over much sooner than expected, Campbell was now in the Superintendent’s office.
Asif wanted to have a word with Roisin, but now that would have to wait, he needed to get a hurry on and get back to the office.
*
‘I can’t begin to tell you the sense of relief I feel right now Campbell. When I asked you to review the case, I had no real expectation that this would be the result. I was just rolling the dice. But you and Jan have done one hell of a job, what a result.’
Campbell smiled.
‘He caught me slightly by surprise. I wasn’t expecting him to confess the way he did. I had just started to ask him about the pin badge, but I think Jan finding the scarf was the clincher. When he realised, we had his pin badge and the scarf, then I reckon he knew the game was up. And I thought it might be coming when he asked to speak privately with his solicitor. I don’t know what was said, but I think deep down he wanted to do the honourable thing and be done with it, if that makes sense.’
Superintendent McLean made a face.
‘I’m not sure that it does make sense.’
Campbell continued.
‘You see, sir, Rowling was an ex-officer with the Royal Navy, his father’s still a serving Commodore and even though he had been dishonourably discharged, I still think he wanted to do the right thing, and act like an officer should. I believe that’s why he confessed. He knows he’s committed a horrendous crime, although I don’t think he really knows why he did it, but he understands he couldn’t do anything to change that, I think this was his way of making the best of a terrible situation, he saw it as the honourable thing to do.’
‘I see, well, I sort of see. And what about motive, are we any clearer as to why he murdered the boy?’
‘Unrequited love would perhaps best sum it up. According to Rowling he’d been in a relationship with Chris Swift for several weeks. But it appears that sometime shortly before he was killed, Chris had told Rowling that it was over, it appears Chris wanted to get back with Shona Webster, who had been his girlfriend before he met Rowling.’
The Superintendent rubbed his chin.
‘So, Chris Swift was bi-sexual?’
‘He was, but Rowling most certainly wasn’t. He told us that he’d known he was gay since he was 12. Also, he’s seven years older than Chris, he’s an ex Royal Naval officer, an exceptional athlete, it seems to me that he was used to getting things his own way. I don’t think he could deal with the rejection. He followed Chris after he left the party and attacked him near to the railway bridge, the red mist came down, I’m pretty certain he would have raped the boy if he hadn’t been disturbed by the lady out walking her dog. It was a despicable crime, and there’s no question he understands the consequences of what he’s done, he knows he’ll be going to jail for a very long time. He appears remorseful but he can’t explain why he did it. And that’s about all I can tell you, sir. What a waste of a young life.’
Superintendent McLean sighed.
‘What a waste of two young lives.’
‘Yes, indeed and two families whose lives will never be the same again.’
The Superintendent stood up and walked over to the window.
‘Look, I know you’ll have paperwork to prepare for the court tomorrow, but before you go, I wanted to let you know that the Chief Super is coming over later, and he’s bringing the ACC with him. And quite rightly they want to thank you and Jan personally. But that’s not the end of it, I’ve got more good news for you…’
*
Jan was deep in conversation with Conway when Asif walked into the office. The beaming smile on her face said it all.
‘Brilliant result, Jan, the Duty Officer told me on my way in. You must be absolutely delighted. First murder enquiry and you got a result within four days, that’s some going.’
Jan shook her head and laughed.
‘I can’t quite believe it, it all seemed to happen so quickly, but in all honesty, it had precious little to do with me. It was down to Campbell, boy is he one shrewd operator. Thinks of things and makes connections that would never have occurred to me.’
‘Now you’re just being modest.’ said Con, ‘it takes two to tango.’
‘Maybe, but believe me it was Campbell who worked it all out. He had a theory and it turned out to be right on the money.’
‘And his theory was what exactly?’ asked Con.
Jan was about to explain when a head appeared round the door. It was Campbell.
‘Good you’re here.’ said Campbell nodding towards Asif. ‘I’ve got a short window of opportunity, so why don’t you pop through, and we’ll go over your briefing note. I’ve only glanced at it so far, but it looks interesting, you’ve been a busy boy.’
‘Great.’ replied Asif picking up a copy of his note from his desk. ‘But only if you’ve time, I know you’ll have a lot of paperwork to complete? And congratulations on your arrest, Jan was just telling us about it, must be pretty satisfying solving a murder case, especially solving it in four days.’
‘Yeah, it does feel good. Better than that actually, it feels bloody brilliant. Timewise we were right up against it. The ACC was about to bring in a new team from Headquarters so to get the result when we did was very satisfying. We didn’t have to do much in the interview, finding the scarf in his flat proved to be the real bonus, then when he realised that we also had his pin badge, the game was up, it was time to put his hands up. We had other evidence, lots of it, but him admitting it certainly made things much easier and speeded up the process.’
Asif followed Campbell through to his office and sat down.
‘Make us a coffee, will you? It’ll take me ten minutes to read this properly. There’s milk in the fridge.’
While Asif went to fill the kettle, Campbell started to read. For the next few minutes he pored over Asif’s note, stopping occasionally to write something on his pad. Asif watched nervously; Campbell’s facial expression was not giving much away. Eventually he took off his glasses and looked up.
‘Wow. And I thought my enquiry was interesting. This is quite something, Asif. And regardless of the outcome it’s a terrific bit of work. You’ve clearly put a lot of time into the investigation, and this is a top-notch briefing note. It reads well, succinct, accurate and for the most part evidence based, but.’
‘But what?’ asked Asif jumping straight in.
Campbell bit his lip.
‘This isn’t what you want to hear but there’s no point in pussyfooting around, I’m going to level with you. Despite everything you’ve got here, there may still not be enough to secure a conviction. There are still too many gaps. On the face of it you would think that it’s all here, I absolutely get where you’re coming from. The falsified report, the taxi to a waiting Lear jet. Even Gossage being seen with the coat and Bancroft’s new Range Rover, as you say yourself, everything points to Bancroft and Gossage harvesting organs to sell.’
Asif made a face.
‘Yeah, I know, so what’s the problem? We’ve got a whole stack of evidence that points to the fact that it was them. We’ve even got a motive. Well, I think we have. Money, or the lack of money in Bancroft’s case. I know he had serious money problems, he told me so himself. Crikey, Campbell, I can even prove that Gossage changed his shifts, so he was working on the morning that Varga and Lakatos died. What more do you want?’
Campbell looked Asif straight in the eye.
‘A body’.
In the absence of a body this is going to be very difficult to prove. Bancroft will be a wily character; I expect Gossage will be too. Most of what you have discovered is circumstantial and with a good lawyer it could be easily explained away. The new car and the change of shifts for example. It won’t be difficult for them to come up with an explanation for that. You say yourself that nobody knows what was in the box that the taxi took to the airfield. He could say he was sending a present to a friend in Dubai, you told me yourself that Bancroft has connections there. I know that sounds ridiculous but there are still too many loose ends. I’m not saying they didn’t do it, far from it, for the record I’m almost certain they did, but what we need is proof. Think about it, even your allegation that the PM report had been doctored won’t stand up to scrutiny without a body, how would we be able to prove that he didn’t have alcohol in his blood if we don’t have a body. All three funerals have already taken place. They’ve been cremated, we don’t have a body. Do you see where I’m coming from?’
Asif leant back in his chair and smiled. A great big satisfied smile.
Perhaps his report hadn’t been clear enough, or perhaps Campbell was tired and had simply missed it. But nowhere in his report did it say that Istvan Lakatos had been cremated. He said his funeral was taking place today at Cathcart Cemetery. Asif was about to play his trump card.
‘But we potentially do have a body. I was at Cathcart cemetery no more than an hour ago. Istvan Lakatos was in the process of converting to Islam, he wasn’t cremated, he was buried in accordance with Islamic law. His body is in a grave in Cathcart cemetery.’
Campbell did a double take. The significance of what Asif just said registered immediately.
‘Seriously, you’re telling me that Lakatos was buried this morning, he wasn’t cremated like the other two.’
‘Yep.’ said a beaming Asif, ‘that’s what I’m telling you.’
Campbell exhaled loudly.
‘Bloody hell, Asif, that changes everything. That is a game changer. If we’ve got a body, we can prove all of this, Lakatos will be missing organs for a start. And as he’s only just been buried, we should be able to get a blood sample and get it analysed for alcohol.’
Campbell’s brain was now on overdrive.
‘And am I right in thinking that Muslim’s aren’t embalmed before they’re buried, I’m sure I’ve read that somewhere?’
‘Yeah, that’s correct, he won’t have been embalmed, he will have been ceremonially washed but not embalmed, and washing won’t destroy any of the evidence we’re interested in.’
‘No, it will not. And as he only died a few days ago, there shouldn’t be much decomposition, a pathologist should be able to see any abnormalities on his body. My God, what a day this is turning out to be.’
Campbell lifted the phone on his desk.
‘Who are you calling now?’ asked Asif.
‘Yes, good morning, can you put me through to the Duty Fiscal please.’
‘Certainly, can I ask who’s calling?’
‘It’s Detective Inspector Morrison from Aikenhead Road CID, and can you tell them that it’s urgent.’
Campbell winked at Asif.
‘Detective Inspector Morrison!’ exclaimed Asif. ‘Nice one boss, and about bloody time if I may say so. Now if only they’d had the sense to promote you earlier, we may not have had to clear up this dog’s dinner of an investigation.’
Chapter 28
The lounge of the Sherbrooke Hotel was festooned with Christmas decorations. Coloured swags, made from red and gold foil, were loosely strung across the ceiling. Hanging down from the wooden fireplace was an array of different sized silver baubles. A Christmas wreath laden with frosted fir cones and red holly berries hung on the solid oak door and in the vestibule, a Norwegian spruce, all 15 feet of it, tastefully adorned with gold and silver bows was the centrepiece of the hotel’s festive display. Christmas music was playing on a loop. They’d been there for just over an hour, but ‘Fairytale of New York’ was already on its second playing.
