Killing With Confidence (16 page)

‘They can talk,’
Connor thought to himself. He’d met Badger’s CID crowd and they
were as shifty as they came. They were the sorts who thought
nothing of planting evidence and beating up a few suspects every
now and then.

He could imagine DCI
Crosbie despising them with his morals and principles. In return,
he would have made powerful, resentful enemies. They would go out
of their way to soil his name as he kept ascending the career
ladder. Connor didn’t share his thoughts with old Badger, promising
only to ‘bear that in mind’.

Rita returned to the
bedside with cups of coffee. She smiled at the sight of her husband
still clasping Connor’s hand. Badger had never been the emotional
type, but it pleased her to see he was letting his tough guy facade
slip, showing in his final moments the man she always knew him to
be.

He finally let go of
Connor to take his coffee. ‘Thanks, Rita babes, proper coffee, too,
clearly not from this dump,’ Badger said a little too loudly,
earning glances from the relatives of the three other patients in
the ward.

‘Right, you better be
offski, sunshine. Don’t give those cunts at work any ammo to get
shot of you,’ Badger ordered, not so subtly indicating visiting
time was over.

Connor stood to hug
Rita goodbye. He then negotiated the various tubes and wires to do
the same with his mentor. ‘You’re simply the best, Badg,’ Connor
whispered in his mentor’s ear.

‘On your way, Elvis,’
Badger said, this time with tears filling his eyes. ‘On your way,
lad.’

31

The One that Got Away

April and
Connor sat in Crosbie’s office telling the detective about April’s
suspension and how she feared her days at the paper were numbered.
Connor said, ‘So, you see, Detective, the
Daily Herald
’s
Special Investigations unit has been split in half because of
you – I think April will be putting in a claim for police
compensation.’

Crosbie looked
genuinely sorry about April’s plight. He said, ‘Would it help if I
called this Weasel fella and explained that I put you in an
impossible situation.’

‘No, no,’ April
replied boldly, ‘I’m a big enough girl to be able to look after
myself. I’ve never allowed myself to be pushed around by any
man – copper, editor or husband. I really don’t know what
happened to me yesterday. It’s not like me to bury my head in the
sand.’

Crosbie placed a hand
on her shoulder and said quietly, ‘We’ve all done it. A crisis of
confidence. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and don’t know who I
am.’

April thought to
herself, ‘I bet you don’t with that split personality.’

The detective changed
the topic by studying a transcript of April’s interview with Martin
Seth once more. ‘There’s something missing here,’ he said, ‘and I
don’t know what it is.’

The three of them ran
through various motives Martin might have for wanting his wife
dead, from her numerous affairs to her constant over-spending and
scant regard for the precarious financial situation her company
found itself in.

‘All of these are
reasonable enough, but there’s something else. Some other piece of
the jigsaw which will link it all together,’ Crosbie stated. ‘I
need you to interview Martin again,’ he said directly to April. ‘I
need you to ask some other questions for me.’

Connor liked Crosbie
the more he met him. He liked the fact that he had his detractors
amongst the ranks. In many ways that meant he was doing his job
properly and didn’t need to resort to pinning everything on ‘the
local loony’ as forces up and down the land were guilty of doing
time and again. Even though he was seen as a new breed of
high-flier in the force, in Connor’s book he was an old-fashioned
copper. He didn’t leap to conclusions. He’d been as sceptical of
Martin Seth’s murder confession as April, even though it would have
meant major Brownie points for both if they’d just taken Seth at
his word. Connor saw a lot of himself in Crosbie. He was someone he
not only admired but could easily see becoming a friend.

April agreed to do a
second round of interviews with Seth, confident within herself that
he was no killer.

Crosbie added, ‘I was
going to bring him in again myself. But he won’t tell us anything
under caution with his lawyer there. I have a hunch he may be ready
to spill his guts to you though.’



Martin Seth
looked like he’d come to the end of the line. He had visibly aged
since April had seen him last, and had lost so much weight he
looked deathly ill. He somehow seemed to have shrunk, too. His six
feet two frame, now bent double, no longer filled the
room.

‘Where are the kids?’
April asked, sparking a flicker of emotion in Martin’s dead
eyes.

He mumbled, ‘With
their nana and papa. It’s better they stay with them. Safer. More
secure. They’ll be well looked after. Selina and I have some very
decent life assurance policies, so we’ll be leaving them a good
chunk of change.’

April rummaged around
in her bag for her tape recorder, as she could sense Martin was
about to unburden himself. To confess. Maybe she’d even get the
truth this time. He took no notice as she placed it on the coffee
table between them, with its red light indicating it was recording.
She then said softly, ‘Go on, Martin. Get it off your chest. I know
you didn’t kill your wife. But I think you know who did.’



Connor
waited down the private lane outside the Seths’ home to allow April
to interview Martin by herself. His car was concealed behind a
hedgerow in a space used for turning on the narrow road. He got out
for some fresh air. From his vantage point, he could make out part
of the Seths’ front gate.

Connor was just about
to check his BlackBerry for emails when he caught a glimpse of a
hooded figure darting to the Seths’ entrance. He felt a surge of
panic. He immediately dialled April’s mobile as he dashed towards
the gate. He was about to leap over the wrought-iron entrance when
he was struck from behind.

Before his lights
flickered out, Connor berated himself for thinking the intruder was
working alone when it was clear he had back-up. His last thought
before he passed out was of poor defenceless April. He felt his
BlackBerry being prised out of his hand as his attacker pressed the
disconnect button. It wouldn’t have made any difference anyway as
Connor’s call had gone straight to voicemail. As a rule, April
always switched off her mobile while interviewing people. She
considered it bad manners to be interrupted by it.

But Martin Seth had
his mobile on. It rang, playing a tinny-sounding version of ‘Flower
Of Scotland’. April remembered that Martin was a huge rugby fan.
And all Scotland rugby supporters loved the country’s unofficial
national anthem, especially the verse about sending the English
King Edward’s army home to think again.

‘Look, I told you
no,’ Martin told his caller. ‘What do you mean this is my last
chance? What are you going to do? Kill me? Well, I’ve got news for
you, buddy. I’m already dead.’

He hung up and stared
at April offering no explanation. He then said sternly, ‘You should
go. Go now. It’s not safe for you here.’

April knew the
confessional moment had been lost, but she went for it anyway.
Speaking in her softest tone and touching his wrist lightly she
whispered, ‘Tell me who killed her, Martin.’

He averted his eyes,
pulled his hand away from hers, and said, ‘She killed herself. She
killed both of us. You should leave now. I have business to attend
to.’

April packed away her
notepad and recorder, and made her way to the door, pausing to try
one last time, even though she knew it was futile. ‘Are you sure
you don’t have anything you want to tell me, Martin?’

But his mind was
elsewhere now. He gestured with his hand for her to leave, and she
obeyed, showing herself out through the dimly lit hall and to the
front door, which she noticed was slightly ajar.

April suddenly felt
an animalistic fear, but just a fraction too late. A pair of rough
hands grabbed her from behind, restraining her wrists, while a rag
was stuffed into her mouth. She tried to grapple with her
assailant, and stamped her high-heeled shoes, slamming them down on
one of his big toes. ‘Aargh, ya fucking bitch,’ he moaned. But it
was her last act of self-defence, as a builder’s sack, made of
tough white nylon, was pulled over her head to her waist. It was
then bound tightly, and April felt two sets of large hands lift her
up before throwing her onto what she suspected was the
chaise-longue she’d spied in the hall.

‘She weighs a fucking
ton,’ said one of her attackers.

‘Aye, you could do
with losing a few stone, missus,’ the other one shouted in her
direction.

They both had broad
Glaswegian accents. But the fact they’d been joking amongst
themselves meant April no longer felt she was in any great danger.
She couldn’t move, but she could breathe, and apart from being
manhandled, she hadn’t been hurt. Her attackers hadn’t come for
her. It was Martin they were after. She suddenly felt afraid for
him.

She could hear doors
opening and slamming shut all over the house as the assailants
looked for Selina’s husband. Heavy footsteps then thudded down the
hall stairs and past April towards the front door. One of the men
joked again, ‘Try WeightWatchers, love, because that seafood diet
you’re on isnae working.’

‘Aye, the see food
and eat it diet,’ the other quipped.

They were clearly a
double act – but they had also failed to get their man. Martin
had escaped. April began to wonder if she’d get that confession
after all.

If only she could
escape. ‘It’s alright,’ she thought, ‘Connor will be along soon.’
Suddenly a feeling of dread swept over her. ‘Oh my, I hope Connor’s
alright.’



Connor
frantically untied the rope that bound the builder’s bag. He said,
‘Without trying to offend, you look like a big sack of rubble.
There’s bits sticking out everywhere.’

April replied with a
mumble, which sounded suspiciously like, ‘Fuck you.’ She was from
Ruchazie, after all, one of Glasgow’s rougher districts.

Connor took pictures
with his BlackBerry, which made a fake shutter sound with every
snap.

The sack moved around
with a string of more mumbles.

‘It’s evidence, my
dear, in case we need it. It’s also a damn good story,’ Connor
added as he lifted the sack from April’s body.

Even the hallway’s
dim light made her blink as she adjusted to her newly restored
vision. She could also see Connor was in pain as he grimaced with
every movement. The flash went again followed by the shutter sound.
He clearly wasn’t sore enough to stop taking pictures, she
thought.

Connor looked at her
sitting there, her ankles still bound with plastic ties and her
mouth gagged with a cloth and gaffer tape. He said, ‘Hey, you might
finally lose some weight like this.’ He took another photo for good
measure, then with a deftness of hand, so April wouldn’t expect it,
he ripped the tape from her face.

April’s eyes widened
with the pain. She then spat the saliva-soaked rag from her mouth
like a champagne cork from a bottle, and yelled, ‘Owwwww!’

Connor inspected the
sticky side of the tape, which was now covered with April’s fine
facial hairs, and laughed, ‘Well, at least it’s saved you getting
your moustache waxed for a while.’ He then sat down heavily on the
chaise-longue beside his colleague and gingerly touched the back of
his head.

April asked, ‘Are you
alright?’ before wrinkling her nose and saying in an accusatory
tone, ‘Have you been drinking?’

Connor managed a half
smile. ‘I’ll live – and I wish. About fifteen minutes after
you went in, I saw someone leap over the gate and ran down to see
who it was. But someone else was waiting for me, and all I remember
was a whack to the back of the head before waking up slumped in the
back seat of my car covered in booze. They’d doused me in whisky in
the off chance I was discovered by cops or someone who would think
I was just sleeping off a heavy night. Which makes me believe it
was a pro who whacked me.’

April said, ‘Well,
the two goons who grabbed me were a right couple of gorillas. They
wouldn’t have been able to leap gazelle-like over any gates.’

A light came on in
Connor’s eyes as he said, ‘Then it was the goons who carried me
back to the car.’

They both said
simultaneously, ‘Harris.’

Connor continued, ‘It
was Colin Harris I saw leaping over the gate. He’s small, wiry and
athletic. He also doesn’t go anywhere without his two heavyweights.
The question is did they get what they were coming for?’

April said, ‘I don’t
think so. The time they spent scuffling with me gave Martin the
chance to escape. I guess he knew they were coming as he took a
call just as I’m sure he was about to confess. He told the caller
that there would be no deal and then ordered me to leave because it
wouldn’t be safe. I dragged my feet a bit just in case I could get
that confession from him but the moment had gone. When I got to the
front door I was jumped.’

Connor began tapping
furiously on his BlackBerry sending the text,
Did u gt
him?

A few seconds later
the BlackBerry’s red light began to flash indicating Connor had
received a message. It simply read,
No.

He replied: Betta luck nxt
time. PS where did u gt a gag to fit April’s big gub?

Colin Harris texted
back:
LOL
.

Connor showed April
his reply.

She said, ‘Did you
know for years I thought LOL meant ‘lots of love’ instead of ‘laugh
out loud’. I used to get quite worried when I’d get texts or emails
from guys in the office. Why don’t people just write texts properly
and grammatically correct. It would save a lot of misunderstanding
in the world.’