A Cold Killing (Rosie Gilmour) (20 page)

As they pulled into the car park in Ayr, Rosie spotted Ruby getting out of her car.

‘Wait here, guys.’ She leaned in the window to Matt and Adrian. ‘I’ll see how she is first.’

Ruby’s face was grey, her eyes smeared from crying. Rosie was taken aback when she crumbled and collapsed into her arms, sobbing. It was as though the floodgates had opened and all the years of punching above her weight, fighting everyone she came across, had suddenly dissolved in tears and she was a helpless child again.

‘Ruby. Listen. It’ll be okay,’ Rosie said, not really believing it herself. ‘They wouldn’t dare do something to harm Judy. I mean, she’s a patient in a nursing home. They can’t just kidnap someone like that and make them disappear.’ Rosie gave her a reassuring pat on the back and eased herself away. ‘You’ll see. Now, you need to calm down now and think straight. Did you get a look at your emails?’

Ruby nodded, sniffing. She went into her jacket pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, handing it over. Rosie read the printed email, and her blood ran cold.

Rosie tried to keep calm.

‘What a bastard!’ She folded the paper and put it in her pocket.

‘I told you. He’s a complete cunt. I’ll kill him! No matter what happens – no matter what – he’s a dead man. I’ll kill him myself.’

The resolve in her eyes made Rosie shudder. It confirmed her niggling belief that the murders of Rab Jackson and Malky Cameron were about old scores being settled – but not by gangsters, which was the story the police were leaking to the press. This was a woman whose whole life had been built on retribution. Whatever happened to Judy, Tony was underestimating her if he thought he could get away with this.

‘Listen, Ruby. We need to do something here. But you need to think this through.’

‘I have.’ Ruby tried to light a cigarette with trembling fingers. She took a long draw, looked out at the sea and sniffed. ‘I can’t call the police. It’s just not possible. There’s too much shit. But I’m going to have to call the nursing home very shortly and tell them I’m keeping Judy with me tonight. They’ll be okay about it, but if I just don’t turn up they’ll call me and then they’ll call the cops if I don’t have a convincing story.’ She pulled her collar up against the rising wind. ‘I’ll just say it’s part of Judy’s progress . . . that I’ll be taking her to my place in Glasgow for a couple of days and I’ll get in touch if there’s any immediate problem.’

‘Can you just do that?’ Rosie asked. ‘Is she not on medication? Do you not have to sign something?’

‘She’s not really on any medication. As long as she’s eating normally and stuff. And I don’t have to sign any papers unless she’s being discharged. I’ll tell them I’ll bring her back in a couple of days. I’m her guardian and have power of attorney. I sorted that a couple of years ago.’ Ruby paused, looking at Rosie. ‘I have to call them first. Then I need to work out how I’m going to meet Tony. I haven’t thought that far yet.’

‘You think he’ll just hand her over if you agree to meet him and turn up?’

Ruby nodded.

‘I hope so. But I know that he’ll not let me out of his sight until I give him everything I’ve got.’ She looked at the ground. ‘Then I’ll be next for the chop.’

‘What do you mean?’

Ruby took a breath, ran a hand over her mouth.

‘Look, Rosie. I told you I was Rab Jackson’s accountant. I have his money in bank accounts all over Europe, and in businesses I set up for him. It’s all very complicated, and it’s a lot of money. But it’s me who did all that with the mob’s money. Now he’s dead and that’s the real reason Tony’s been courting me for the past couple of weeks. He’s trying to do it in a nice way, but I know, sooner or later, if I don’t come across with all the accounts, then he’ll get nasty.’ She shook her head. ‘I didn’t even fucking know that he knew about Judy until the other day. That took the feet from me. He’d been emailing me since I left Spain, every email getting angrier the more I ignored the bastard. And then he mentioned Judy. That’s the only reason I went to see him last week, and have been playing along. That’s why I was brought along to meet that fucker Tam Dunn the other night. He’s got a lot of money tied up with Rab – which I didn’t know about. It was Tony trying to let him know that everything was under control.’

‘But what were you going to do with all Rab’s money and assets? Were you going to give them over?’

‘Yeah, of course. But when I’m ready. When I’m out of here with Judy once and for all. I was getting things sorted, planning for us to go away, because if I give him everything now, he will get me killed.’ Her eyes filled up and she blinked back tears. ‘Today with Judy is the best day I’ve had. She is getting more and more responsive all the time. And I think she’s nearly ready for me to take her away. I was going to give everything over to Tony, leave all the details somewhere in an envelope, and go to France. But first I have to speak to the various banks and investment funds, because I am the only signatory on the accounts now that Jackson’s dead. Tony knows that, and that’s why he’s so angry. He’s feeling he’s losing his grip and the only way he can hurt me is through Judy.’ She threw her cigarette end away and looked at Rosie. ‘But I’ll tell you one thing. He has made the biggest mistake of his life, Rosie. Because the moment he made the decision to take my sister, he signed his own death warrant. Trust me on that.’

Rosie didn’t answer. She didn’t really want to hear that, because now she was going to have to call McGuire and try to explain this whole mess, then make a decision on how to handle it. But however this played out, there was no guarantee that Judy would be returned to Ruby alive. In fact, given how easily they disposed of people, they’d probably kill her as a message to Ruby that she’d stepped over the line.

They stood for a long moment, listening to the plaintive sound of gulls wailing as the rain began to fall from the slate-grey sky.

‘Okay,’ Rosie said. ‘Here’s what I think. Let’s go back to my car, and you can phone Tony. Just be calm, talk to him and arrange to meet him.’

Ruby looked at her, biting her bottom lip.

Rosie explained. ‘And, Ruby . . . You’re going to have to trust me.’ She put her hands up. ‘I know you’re not used to trusting people, but this time I think you should. I’m going to phone my editor.’

‘What? A fucking story?’

‘No. No story. Let me explain. We have connections with certain people, and maybe, well, maybe we can involve them.’

‘What people? What connections?’ Ruby looked confused.

‘I can’t say. Just trust me. You don’t need to know at the moment. Please. We don’t have a lot of options and I’m not even sure if this will work, but I don’t want you just going in to see Tony without any kind of back-up, because you might not come back out again. You and Judy.’

Ruby looked at her and swallowed, shaking her head, her mouth tight with emotion, and they stood in silence.

‘Come on,’ Rosie took her arm. ‘Let’s go.’

*

Matt and Adrian got out of the car as they approached. Ruby stood back, a little unsure.

‘These are colleagues of mine,’ Rosie said. ‘It’s cool. We’re already working on the Tam Dunn story. That’s where we were last night . . . down south . . . and we’ve got him bang to rights on a lot of stuff, so you can trust these guys implicitly.’

She introduced Adrian and Matt. Ruby acknowledged them with a nod but said nothing.

‘Can I have your mobile, Adrian?’ Rosie asked.

He handed it over, and she turned to Ruby.

‘This is a pay-as-you-go, it’s set up to withhold the number, and there’s no way of tracking it. So if you phone Tony on this he’ll not know where you are. Tell him you borrowed the mobile.’ She paused. ‘But you need to keep calm, or he’ll turn the screw. Just be matter of fact. Tell him you’re angry, because you were working on the accounts and were going to email him very soon. Say you’re furious at what he’s done but you’re prepared to put it behind you as long as you can see Judy right now.’

Ruby took the phone and looked in her own mobile for Tony’s number.

‘He doesn’t think I have a phone,’ she explained, as she punched the number into Adrian’s mobile.

They watched and waited. When he finally answered, they listened while Ruby gave quite a convincing performance, keeping reasonably calm, just enough edge to her voice.

‘Look. I know you were impatient, Tony. I absolutely understand that,’ Ruby said. ‘But you went right over the score. I told you before that Judy has nothing to do with anyone. She is not well, Tony. She’s a poor soul.’ Her voice wavered a little and Rosie reached over and squeezed her arm, gesturing with her hands to tell Ruby to stay in control.

Ruby appeared to be listening to whatever Tony was saying.

‘But I want to see her now. Today. Tonight.’

Ruby pulled the phone from her ear and threw her eyes up to the sky, frustrated, then put the phone back to her ear.

‘Why not today? What do you mean, you’re too busy? Tony . . . You’ve got my sister. She’s due back. What am I going to tell the home?’

Ruby put her hand over the phone and mouthed ‘Fuck you.’

They watched as she listened again.

‘Okay. Tomorrow. But there’s no guarantee I will have everything sorted with the accounts. I have to talk to all the banks and sort the accounts all over the place. That’s going to take me the best part of the day and night and it’s already four o’clock. I’ve already got some things organized, but there’s a lot to do. But you’ve wasted an afternoon because you couldn’t wait. This is
your
fault.’

Ruby listened again.

‘Tony? Tony? Are you there?’

She looked at Rosie.

‘Fuck! Bastard’s hung up.’ She stamped her feet and turned away. ‘Fucking arsehole!’

Matt grimaced at Rosie as Adrian looked from one to the other and made a sympathetic face.

‘He is a nasty piece of work, this Tony. Like the people who took my sister. They are scum,’ Adrian said.

Rosie remembered the time she’d spent with Adrian last year in Spain as he rescued his sister from people traffickers and knew just how deeply he’d be empathizing with Ruby.

‘So what did he say?’ She walked Ruby, who had turned away from them, crying, and put her hand on her arm.

‘He says he’s too busy today. It has to be tomorrow. Afternoon. Bastard was laughing.’ She shook her head. ‘How do I know Judy’s even still alive?’ She put her hands on her head. ‘I don’t even know if he’s killed her. Oh fuck!’

‘Don’t even think that way.’ She took her mobile out of her bag. ‘I need to talk to the editor.’

Ruby said nothing.

Rosie walked a few yards away from everyone and stood facing the sea, breathing in a lungful of the salty air as she dialled McGuire’s direct line.

‘Gilmour. I’m up to my arse.’

‘Mick. There’s a problem.’

‘What?’

‘They’ve kidnapped Ruby’s sister. That Tony bastard.’

‘Oh fuck! Where are you?’

‘In Ayr. I was on my way up when I got the call from Ruby, so I came straight here with Matt and Adrian. She’s in a real state.’ Rosie took a breath. ‘We need to do something. Not the cops.’

‘What the fuck are we going to do if we don’t get the cops?’

‘I’m heading back up the road now. I have an idea.’

‘Tell me now.’

‘I’ll tell you when I see you.’

Rosie hung up.

Rosie watched McGuire pace up and down his office like a trapped animal. For the past hour, they’d gone over their options. There was no happy ending for anyone. If they called in the police, Ruby would be in the spotlight, under scrutiny, and they’d want to know exactly what her role and relationship was with Tony Devlin. McGuire was uncomfortable enough that they were harbouring someone who had laundered drug money for the kind of pond life they investigated and exposed in his newspaper. But the fact that she’d also witnessed the murder of a prostitute was pushing him close to the edge. If this girl’s body turned up any time soon, they were sitting on information that could nail the killer. And if the cops found that out, there would be more than Ruby going to jail, he warned. He listened to Rosie’s idea as she walked him through the possible consequences. They were far from happy. But their only option was to make the call.

Twenty minutes later McGuire’s phone rang and he answered it.

‘Send them in, Marion.’ He clasped his hands behind his head and looked down at Rosie.

‘Right, Gilmour. Let’s see if these guys have got any balls.’

The door opened and the editor stepped forward, offering his hand.

‘Thanks for coming at such short notice, gentlemen.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But this is important.’

If Chief Superintendent Boswell-Smith was irritated at being summoned by a newspaper editor, he hid it well. His body language was more relaxed than at the last meeting, where he’d bristled and seemed on the defensive.

‘Not at all, sir.’ He shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and squared his big shoulders. ‘We never close.’ He glanced from Rosie to McGuire. ‘And I’m sure two very busy people like yourselves wouldn’t be asking us to come down here at this time of night – as you’re no doubt putting your newspaper to bed – unless it was crucial business . . . So here we are.’

McGuire crossed the room to his conference table and pulled out chairs, gesturing them to sit down.

The editor sat at the head of the table, with Boswell-Smith on his left and the captain next to him. Rosie was opposite them, her eyes resting on the captain in his dark-blue suit and pink shirt. He could have stepped out of the pages of a glossy magazine. McGuire sat with his elbows on the table and his hands steepled under his chin.

‘Okay, chaps.’ His eyes narrowed a little. ‘I want to ask first of all if we can speak off the record to you, around this table. As you see, we’ve no lawyer present. I didn’t ask him to join us, because I want to have a frank discussion with you.’ McGuire paused, looking at them for approval. ‘About the matter we discussed the other day. There’s been a development, and we want to draw your attention to it.’ He glanced from the superintendent to the captain. ‘But . . . Well. We’re also looking for your help.’

He waited for a response. Nothing for at least four beats, as Boswell-Smith held eye contact with him. He was good at this. Rosie was barely breathing. The clock on the wall said seven fifteen. Ruby would be frantic downstairs in the office canteen, where she’d left Matt and Adrian looking after her.

The superintendent linked his fingers together on the table, studied the palms of his hands as though measuring his response, then looked up.

‘It depends on what you have to tell us, Mr McGuire. And what kind of impact it has on this investigation.’ He sat back, crossing his legs, confident, in control. ‘Tell you what. Why don’t we do it this way: you tell us what has prompted you to call us back here so . . . so quickly . . . because if we’re being frank, I didn’t expect to hear from you again after our meeting the other day. I got the impression that you don’t have a lot of time for the establishment, if I may say so, sir.’

McGuire gave him an earnest look.

‘I’m a newspaper editor, Superintendent. My job is to question and probe everything that comes across my desk – especially the establishment.’

The superintendent nodded, stroking his chin.

‘Fair enough. Good answer.’ He sat forward, gazed admiringly up at the pictures of historic
Post
front pages on the walls. ‘You know, I did consider becoming a journalist myself, back in the day. My father was editor of the local rag in our town and it was expected I’d follow in his footsteps – so, growing up, I did get a bit of a feel for the old newspaper business. There was something exciting about it. A real buzz.’ He gave Rosie what she took as a friendly nod. ‘But I opted for the police. I’d encountered a few detectives in my time at functions with my father, and I liked the cut of their jib. What I found was that these guys impressed me more than a reporter standing outside the court in the rain waiting to interview some waste of space who’d just been freed on a murder charge. In the end, I opted to be a copper – call it an idealist mission to do something to sort the bad guys out,’ He put a hand up. ‘But believe me, I do have respect for what you chaps do, and the lengths you go to tell a story. Having said that, we live in a country where the law is the law, and I firmly believe we must uphold that.’

Rosie made eyes at McGuire. She didn’t want to hear Boswell-Smith’s life story. She shifted in her seat, then the words were out before she could stop herself.

‘I agree with you. But not everyone in the establishment upholds the law.’ Rosie flicked a glance at the captain, thinking that the SAS seemed to make their own rules. ‘I think we all know what I mean here.’ She took a breath. ‘There are . . . well, always have been, people in positions of power and influence who will bend and use the law to suit themselves, for their own gain. Those are the kind of wrongs we try to expose. And without being too dramatic, that’s what drives us as journalists . . .’ She looked at McGuire, who nodded that he trusted her to go on. ‘So, what the editor is saying here is that we have information that will assist your investigation into the murder of Tom Mahoney. But, much more than that – we have information that will lead you to nailing the gangsters behind it. All of them. We’re prepared to help you with that. But . . . And here’s the catch . . . We also need your help. And what I really need to be clear about here, to be completely blunt, is that what I’ve just admitted in terms of us having information . . . I will robustly deny on a stack of bibles if you ever take what I’ve said and use it against me, if this meeting should go, how can I put . . . tits up.’

The captain bit the inside of his jaw trying to stop himself from smiling as he looked from the corner of his eye to the cop.

Boswell-Smith examined his big hands again and looked from McGuire to Rosie.

He nodded slowly.

‘Okay. Understood. Off the record . . . So . . .’ He took a long breath and let it out like a sigh. ‘Can we stop fucking around, and can you tell us why you brought us here?’

Rosie relaxed a little, hoping she could trust them.

‘You take it from here, Rosie,’ McGuire said.

‘Okay.’ Rosie pulled her chair closer to the table. ‘We’ve been working with a contact on the investigation into Mahoney’s murder, and it’s opened up a few different lines – unexpected lines – for us. But the problem is that our contact – a woman who is in a position to take us inside this story – is now under threat from the men behind the murder . . . the same gang you were trying to trap in Berlin when the sting operation failed.’ She waited to make sure they were with her. ‘We asked you to come here because our contact’s sister has been kidnapped by these people. The sister is ill, a mental-trauma thing, and she’s not responsive, hasn’t spoken for twenty-five years and needs a lot of care and attention. She was taken yesterday when my contact took her out for the afternoon from the nursing home where she lives. My source had stepped inside to pay the bill in the restaurant where they’d had lunch, and when she came back out her sister was gone. Certain people have contacted her and told her they have her sister.’

‘Why would they take her?’

Rosie glanced at McGuire.

‘Well, that’s where it gets a little difficult. My contact has connections with them. She has assisted them in business.’

‘In the drug and murder business?’ Boswell-Smith’s eyebrows went up a fraction.

‘Not quite. She’s not involved like that – I mean, in the drugs or in murder. But she is involved financially. Taking care of some of the money for them.’

‘Laundering it?’

‘Well . . .’

‘Laundering it,’ the superintendent confirmed. ‘So why have they taken the girl? She must have crossed them in some way – this contact of yours who launders their money . . .’ His voice was deadpan. ‘Has she bumped them for money?’

‘It’s a bit complicated. But she has some information she has to pass to them regarding money and bank details, and she hasn’t done it yet. She was supposed to do it earlier, and they got impatient.’

‘Who got impatient? Give me names.’

Rosie glanced at McGuire, who nodded for her to go ahead.

‘Tony Devlin, a Glasgow hood . . . His associate down south is Tam Dunn, of J B Solutions. A bad lot, as you know. They had investments tied up together. And Rab Jackson, the man murdered in Costa del Sol recently, was part of that.’

The superintendent said nothing for a few seconds while he processed the information.

‘So what has this kidnapping to do with Mahoney’s murder?’

‘They were the gang who were buying the arms. Dunn is J B Solutions. But you must know that. It was his guys who were doing the deal with Russians.’

He said nothing, appearing to gaze out of the window in some momentary reverie, then spoke without looking at anyone.

‘So tell me this. Where are you on the Mahoney investigation for your newspaper? The last time I was here, you told me that the information and documents you’d been given access to were no longer accessible. Is that still true?’ He gave Rosie a look; he was toying with her.

Rosie said nothing. McGuire folded his arms.

‘Okay,’ the superintendent continued. ‘What I’m hearing here, and correct me if I’m wrong, is that you have some bird who launders gangsters’ money, and her sister has been snatched. You don’t report that crime to Strathclyde Police. You don’t call the police because you’re protecting her. Which, of course, is breaking the law. Am I right so far?’

Rosie’s stomach tightened.

‘And you want us to swing into action like the cavalry and rescue her – in, presumably, an SAS-style operation worthy of a tabloid front page.’ He almost smirked at the captain, who remained poker-faced.

That was exactly what Rosie wanted them to do, but when he put it like that in his clipped tones it sounded ridiculous.

‘You watch a lot of movies, do you, Rosie?’ The superintendent smiled.

Rosie felt her face burn. He was making an arse of them. She looked down at the table.

‘Now . . . tell me this, Rosie. I’ll ask this question again. As a matter of interest, are these documents, which you couldn’t give me access to the other day, still not available? Or have they now suddenly become available? And what incriminating stuff do they contain involving government departments?’

He gave her a don’t-piss-me-around look.

Rosie could either lie or take a chance. She swallowed hard.

‘We have information that someone inside the MoD was assisting this gang with export licences, enabling J B Solutions to continue selling arms abroad after their licence had been revoked over the sale of arms to Nigeria.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘But I’m sure you already know that.’

His face was blank.

‘So why haven’t you printed that?’ He turned to McGuire.

‘We’re not there with it yet,’ McGuire replied, straight-faced. ‘We haven’t quite tied down all the ends. We’re still investigating. But to be honest, the main thrust of our story has shifted slightly. We’ve been digging around on Tam Dunn and J B Solutions and we now have incriminating evidence against them. Our
own
evidence. So we have two stories, so to speak, both connected, in that they involve what happened to Tom Mahoney. But also they are stand-alone stories.’

Another stony silence. After what seemed like an age, the superintendent spoke.

‘Right. I’m not a newspaper man, but right now you have one story. The story of J B Solutions’ involvement in arms dealing and how you as a newspaper can nail them down, help put them behind bars. Okay? Let’s say you have that. Are you still planning to use the MoD and the corruption line? By that, I mean, do you plan to use the MoD line as a big factor in your exposé?’

‘We’re not quite there with it,’ Rosie said, glancing uneasily at McGuire.

‘So ditch it.’ The superintendent’s mouth turned down.

‘What?’ Rosie glared at McGuire.

‘You heard me. Ditch it.’

‘Ditch it?’

‘Yes. Dump the MoD line, give me the documents that I
know
you have . . . and forget that side of the story. Then we simply forget we ever met.’

Rosie looked at McGuire, then at the superintendent.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Listen, dear . . . I’m so serious I came all the way up here on the instructions of Whitehall to get this documentation that we
know
Tom Mahoney had, and I now
know
you now have, but failed to turn over to me when I asked about it. But that’s my problem. Well . . . it
was
my problem until you and your editor suddenly need my help to get the sister of your money-laundering contact back from the kidnappers. I’m sure you get my drift.’ He paused, sniffed. ‘So this is fairly straightforward, as far as I’m concerned.’ He turned to McGuire. ‘You dump your MoD scandal story, and we’ll get your sick girl back to her sister. And we’ll all live happily ever after.’ He looked at his watch.

‘Now . . . if I were you, I’d make my decision quickly, for two reasons. One . . . this girl is being held by the kind of evil bastards we’ve been dealing with, and if she’s not released soon, she’ll be dead – if she’s not already dead. Two, if you’re
not
going to do it
my
way, then the good captain and myself have a table booked for dinner at eight, and he’s paying . . . So make your mind up.’ He folded his arms.