In Place of Death (39 page)

‘Walter isn't going to make the most reliable witness. Saturn's lawyers will go gunning for him.'

‘I know. Which is why I was hoping we could get him out of the Rosewood and into somewhere better. Let's face it, anywhere would be better. And maybe encourage him to lay off the
drink or at least cut it back.'

Narey ran her hand through her hair as she thought about it

‘That might be easier said than done. Let me go speak to him. And I'll try Malcolm Colvin at the City Mission. He knows Walter and should be able to help. That's great work,
Rico. Terrific. You hear that, McTeer? A reason for even you to smile.'

‘Yeah. Great.' McTeer's face called his words a liar.

‘Well if you can't smile then beat it. Go on, find some work to do somewhere else.'

‘If you say it's important, hen, then I'll do it. If I can. I'm no promising anything though. I've been drinking for a long time. I've got
too good at it.'

‘I'm not looking for miracles, Walter. I know it's a big ask. But if you try, that's good enough for me. I figured that if we get you into a better place then
you'll just maybe have one reason for staying sober a bit longer.'

The old man smiled at her, his eyes crinkling round the edges. ‘I'll not be sad to leave the Rosewood though. I've been in there near enough a year. That might be a new record
to be there that long and still be breathing.'

She laughed, seeing something of her dad in him, probably not for the first time. A thought occurred to her.

‘Do you follow football, Walter?'

He shrugged. ‘Not so much these days. The game's all about money. Average players earning millions, it's ridiculous. But aye, I like the football. Why?'

She hesitated. ‘It depends. Who do you support?'

He narrowed his eyes as he tried to work out what she was after. ‘I'm thinking I should say Partick Thistle so as no to ruin something.'

‘Ha. No, tell me who you support.'

‘I'm a Celtic man. Always have been.'

‘Ah that might be a problem. But then again it might just be perfect. My dad's a Rangers fan, you see.'

‘Och I'm no a bigot, hen. I'd argue with anybody.'

‘Well, good. How would you fancy spending some time with my dad? Say once a week, to see how it goes. Just a cup of tea and a chat about football. I think it would help him.'

Walter shrugged again, easy with the world. ‘Sure, why no? Is he no keeping too well?'

‘Alzheimer's.'

‘Och that's a sin. Count me in, hen. If you think it will help then I'll tell him all about how his team's been cheating mine for years.'

She had a tear in her eye as she bent over and kissed him on the cheek.

Wednesday evening

Narey and Winter were in the back room of the Station Bar on Port Dundas Road, a Guinness and a vodka and tonic in front of them. The bar was quiet and they had the raised rear
area to themselves. It was a mixed blessing because although they didn't want to be overheard, they were having this discussion in the pub rather than at home as it would reduce the chance of
them shouting at each other.

It was the first opportunity they'd had to sit down and talk about it. About them.

Just less than forty-eight hours since Winter had scaled the tower and McCormack had walked into the trap they'd set for him. Two days of interviews and legal argument, elation and
frustration. Two days in which they'd been able to do nothing more than hug each other. He was drained and she was working furiously. Catching her man was one thing, keeping him was
another.

Rico's work with Orient and Saturn had managed to take the edge off her exasperation at McCormack's bail and her talk with Walter had put a smile on her face. She was ready for this
conversation, even if Tony wasn't.

‘Look, it's worked out fine. We got him and you'll put him away in court. Can't we just leave it at that?'

‘No.
We need to talk about it.'

‘I'd rather not.'

‘Of course you'd rather not. It means talking about emotion and feelings. And you'd rather run a mile than do that. But sometimes you have to. Like now.'

He drew deep on his Guinness and nodded glumly. ‘Okay. Go.'

She shook her head, knowing she was probably going to have to do all the work, but fine, it was better than it not being done. ‘Okay. Do you understand why I was so angry with you when I
found out what you'd been doing?'

He sighed. ‘Yes I do. But do you realize it was a two-way thing? I was angry too.'

She let out an incredulous gasp. ‘The difference is that I had a
reason
to be angry. You'd gone behind my back, broken the law, risked your life, endangered my investigation
and risked everything we had together. And you
knew
you were doing all that.'

He tilted his head to one side and blew out air. ‘But apart from that, what have the Romans ever done for us, right?
Okay
. . . I get it. I really do. And I didn't want to do
any of those things. I wasn't thinking about the consequences, only what I felt I had to do.'

‘But—'

‘And I'm not saying that's right. I don't want to do anything behind your back. And I definitely don't want to do anything to harm us. It's too important to
me.'

‘So why do it? It's easy to say but I can only go on what you actually did.'

‘Because Euan was my friend and I let him down. I treated him badly and I wasn't there when he needed me. I had to put that right. I owed him. Look, I don't want to drag your
dad into this but you know what it's like when it's too late to help someone you care for but you still feel you have to do something for them.'

She narrowed her eyes at him but conceded the point. ‘That's a bit of a cheap shot but yes, I get that. I do. But—'

‘But nothing. You're asking me to change my nature and I can't do that.'

‘What? How did this turn round so that it's my fault? I'm asking you to change your behaviour, not your nature. I'm asking you not to be such a dick. Above all, I'm
asking you to be honest with me.'

‘Honest I can do. But it might mean telling you something honestly that you won't like.'

‘Fine. I'd rather it was that way. If you're going to kill yourself or get arrested then at least I'll know about it.'

‘Fine. So we're sorted.'

She laughed. ‘No we're
not.
Look, you're who you are and I love you. So fine, I accept there's times you will need to
be you
and do what you need to do,
however crazy and risky it is. I can live with that but what I still can't live with is it crossing into my professional life. I've got a career and you can't mess with that. Take
your own risks, not mine.'

He pulled a hand through his hair and exhaled hard. ‘Okay, so it's the problem it's always been from the start. I work with the police, you
are
the police. That line
that's always been there
will
always be there.'

‘Yes. And I don't think I can change that.'

‘Maybe I can.'

‘What?'

‘If that can be sorted then we can be sorted. If whatever I'm doing doesn't cross that line, doesn't interfere, doesn't compromise your job then we can make it
work. Right?'

‘Yes but I don't see—'

‘I don't want to explain right now but if I can . . .'

They were so in the middle of it that they didn't hear Addison approach until he'd placed two pints of Guinness, a vodka and tonic and a newspaper in front of them.

‘Evening, campers. That bastard McCormack may be at home with his feet up but here's a reason to celebrate and the drinks to do it with. Don't say I'm not good to
you.'

The newspaper was the
Scottish Standard.
Plastered across its front page and two inside were a report and photographs of the Rosewood Hotel. The words were Winter's, the photos were
Euan Hepburn's and the headline,
Hellhole
, was the newspaper's.

‘Nice work,' Addison admitted grudgingly. ‘I didn't even know you could write sentences.'

Winter shrugged it off. ‘The work was all Euan's. I just wrote it up from his notes and from what I saw in the photographs. And from what Rachel told me about what it was like in
there. It was easy enough.'

Hellhole. The shame of the Rosewood Hotel. Exclusive investigation by Euan Hepburn.

‘Were they okay with putting a dead man's byline on the piece?'

‘They didn't have any choice. I told them it was the only way they were getting the story.'

Addison nodded. ‘How much did they pay?'

‘A thousand for the front page and the two-page spread inside. I gave the money to the City Mission. Seemed the right thing to do.'

‘Very generous,' Addison raised his glass in salute. ‘I'm sure that guy Colvin at the Mission will be pleased. He might even take Rachel out to show how grateful he
is.'

Narey sighed theatrically. ‘Very funny. You did do the right thing, Tony. I'm sure Euan would have been happy with the Mission getting the money. And he'd have been even
happier knowing the place is going to be closed down.'

‘It is?'

‘Yes.' Addison confirmed it. ‘Your story, Hepburn's story, kicked it all off this morning. Local MSPs and a couple of MPs have jumped on the bandwagon and they've
forced the council to act at last. They've said they'll review the Rosewood's licence and privately they've let it be known they'll withdraw it. The Department for
Work and Pensions is feeling the heat too so basically the shit has hit the fan as far as the owners are concerned. Kilgannon and Wells are going to pull the plug and close the place down before
they're told to.'

‘Great but . . .' Winter's glass was still half-empty. ‘Kilgannon and Wells still get away with having run that place the way they did.'

‘No. They won't. Thanks to Rachel, they'll still pay a price.'

Winter looked at her questioningly. Wondering not only what Addison meant but why she hadn't told him.

‘I only got the word this afternoon,' she stressed it as if anticipating his complaint. ‘David McGlashan, the homeless guy whose body was found at the old saw works in
Houldsworth Street. He did die of natural causes but we've been able to put a time of death on it plus check when he last stayed at the Rosewood. Those bastards had been claiming his housing
benefit for eight weeks after he died. They'll be charged and there's no way they'll be opening up anything similar. We might even manage a bit of jail time for them
both.'

‘Nice. So why was he sleeping in the saw works? No urbexing thing, I take it?'

‘No. We can't be sure but it seems he just wanted somewhere dry and warm, a roof over his head that wasn't the Rosewood. The poor sods that are there just now will be looking
for the same once it's closed down. We don't know who's going to look after them.'

Addison shrugged. ‘The City Mission will be glad of Tony's donation. And council services will have to take up some of the slack.'

‘And that's
it?'

‘What do you want me to do? Arrest them? Look, the Rosewood is being shut down, Rico and Johnny Jackson are on Saturn Property's case and we'll be asking Bobby Mullen some very
difficult questions about torched buildings. Let's just be happy about that for now. And we'll make sure McCormack's put away for life. I'll drink to that.'

‘There might be a complication with McCormack,' Winter began slowly. ‘He and Remy Feeks weren't the only people in the Gray Dunn factory that night.'

They both looked at him. Until that point it had gone unsaid in Addison's company but he didn't seem surprised by Winter's statement.

‘I saw the CCTV images,' Addison told them flatly. ‘The third man looked familiar but I couldn't make any definitive identification. Too blurry. If McCormack has
something to say in court then we'll contend with it then. For the moment, he's saying nothing so let's leave it like that.'

‘If I could give evidence —'

‘Just shut up, Tony,' Addison told him firmly. ‘Don't say another word. We'll have to deal with your photographs from the Botanics as it is. That's enough to
be getting on with.'

Winter shrugged. ‘So be it. I'll take whatever's coming my way.'

Anger flashed in Narey's eyes and it could be heard in her voice. ‘You made a mistake. Playing at being a detective and nearly getting yourself killed. Lucky for you that you
didn't make that mistake twice.'

‘No, I got good advice and I paid attention to it.'

‘I'm glad you did.'

Addison laughed. ‘Do you two think I'm daft? You think I can't hear the private messages in amongst what you're saying to each other? Or that maybe I'm
blind?'

‘No idea what you're talking about, Addy.'

‘No, of course not. Anyway, you've got bigger problems than what I know about your relationship. The Chief Constable knows about you taking those photographs and your relationship
with Hepburn. He's put two and two together and it's fair to say he isn't impressed.'

‘Great. Where does that leave me?'

Addison and Narey looked at each other again, not a smile or flicker of hope between them. He'd feared as much. Campbell Baxter had been building a funeral pyre for him for some time and
now Winter had given him all the fuel he needed to set it alight.

Narey was about to speak when her phone began ringing in her pocket. She pulled it out and her face wrinkled in surprise when she looked at the screen.

‘Hello?'

‘Detective Inspector Narey.' The voice was instantly familiar. ‘I think you'll want to speak to me. I suggest you come right away.'