Out of control (25 page)

“As a lawyer do you think we’ve enough to put him away?”

“I think you’ll have to back it up with other evidence but the police should certainly be able to hold him for forty eight hours. After that I’m afraid I don’t know. I’m a corporate lawyer not a criminal one. Hold on, I’ll check.”

He went outside and I saw him phoning. He was back in a couple of minutes.

“I’ve just called a friend who is a criminal lawyer and he confirms that the police should be able to hold him for forty eight hours. After that it’s a question of what evidence they have.”

We would have to hope that the raid on the offices in Lyon would come up with something in addition to the papers I had already supplied to Ross. It wasn’t going to be easy. I reckoned that the police should have a good chance of linking him in with the girl trafficking and could always charge him with assault on me in the meantime. But for the murder of Irina it would be more difficult. I was still sure it was Macek who had carried it out but, very probably, on the orders of Dugain. But how to prove that? Not so easy.

Anyway there wasn’t much more we could do today. Mike had got all the equipment loaded in the car. He had agreed with Helen that Mac and Doug would come round the next day and dismantle the cameras and microphones.

Although someone had given me a cap to keep the makeshift bandage in place Helen insisted that she take me to the hospital to see to my head wound and Pierre volunteered to follow on in my car. The others headed back to the farm. Once I had been stitched up I asked Helen if she wanted to come back with us but she declined.

“You might fly off the handle again,” she said with a grin, “and that is a distinctly scary experience. I don’t think I could go through that again.”

I phoned Maggie as soon as I got back. I didn’t plan to tell her of my injury. It would only worry her and no harm had been done anyway.

I should have guessed. Mike had already called Sophie and had recounted in detail the whole show, including the chair flying across the room and so Maggie was fully aware of what had happened. It took a little time to assure her that I was fine and, according to the hospital, I wouldn’t even have a scar.

I told her I wanted to stay down for a few more days to find out from Ross what was likely to happen to Dugain but I would come up on Friday.

Maggie informed me that we would be on our own, which suited me fine. Sophie was going to take Liam and Ana through to Forfar to stay there for a few days and Pierre had decided he was going back to France.

The next afternoon I had a call from Antoine – a very happy Antoine. “I don’t know how you did it, Bob, but I owe you an enormous ‘Thank you’. Inspector Dagueneau has just called me. He was able to conduct a search of the offices of LyonPharma this morning based on 
information he received from the Scottish police. He found the camera. He had to check what was on it in case there were other photographs but there weren’t. He, therefore, had no reason to keep it so he has told me it has been destroyed. I am very relieved and can’t thank you enough.”

I assured him that I was happy that we had been able to help and asked him to pass on my good wishes to Madeleine. I reconfirmed to him that Pierre knew absolutely nothing about the photos.

That only left two things still unresolved.

How far would the police be able to proceed? Had Dagueneau found any additional evidence in Lyon?

And what would Macek do? He was still out there as far as I knew unless Ross had something which would enable him to arrest the guy. In any case, I should be safe. I was hidden away in Doune.

I’d call Ross the next day and find out.

Sergeant Maclean answered the phone. He asked after my injury, which I assured him was not a problem, and he told me that if I came in later in the day Inspector Ross would be available. He was out at the moment.

So Pierre and I went in to Stirling in the afternoon and were received by a disgruntled Inspector Ross.

“We’ve had to let him go,” were his opening words. “He pulled in a smart lawyer from Edinburgh who told us that we had no grounds for detaining his client.”

“Bloody hell!”

To say I was disappointed is understating it. It looked like I’d got a bang on the head and four stitches for nothing and, on top of that, he was still out there. Bearing in mind his parting remarks I wondered what this might mean.

“Did the French police find nothing?”

“Not enough. They found records of a Swiss bank account but that didn’t help much. The fact that he is Romanian and we had a document proving that he was the brother of the two in Bucharest proves nothing. They will maintain they are running a perfectly normal business. We have no idea of the names of the local people in France who are running these girls so that’s a dead end.

“As for connecting him to Macek and the murder of Irina Vasilescu there’s nothing. Macek works for his company but that’s all.”

“But surely there’s something you can charge him with. What about his attack on me?”

“Provocation was what that smart-assed lawyer came up with. Claimed it wouldn’t stand up in court. He said that he had a witness statement from the guy that was with him. And he’s probably right. At best he’d get bail and then just skip the country. As long as he didn’t come back there’s not much we could do about it. He’d forfeit his bail money but he can afford that.”

“So you had to let him go?”

“He was released this morning. The best I can do is give the French police all the information we have and hope that they can take it further. Maybe we’ve put a stop to the trafficking because they’ll know we’re watching them but I don’t see how we’ll get anybody behind bars. I’ll pull in Macek for questioning if he hasn’t skipped the country but he’s unlikely to give anything away.

“The only thing I can suggest – but that’s nothing to do with me – is that someone leaks something to the press in the hope that the shareholders react and boot him out of his job.”

“Some hope of that,” I said. “The share price has gone up by forty percent since he’s been in charge, most of that since the patent declaration. They’re not going to throw him out just because he’s immoral. As far as most of them are concerned it’s money that counts and they don’t care how it’s acquired.”

Ross thanked us for all our help. He was very disappointed but said he would let us know if there were any further developments.

On leaving I asked him if he would let me know what reaction if any he got from Macek. I was still a bit worried about him. I reckoned Dugain would high tail it back for France, but Macek was another story.

Pierre and I left the station and found a bar, a corner table and a glass of wine.

“Shit,” I said as we clinked glasses. “Surely we can’t just leave it at that?”

“I agree. I’ll go over to Antoine’s when I get back and see if he has any ideas. Maybe we can use this to get the bastard booted out of his job. 
That would at least be something.”

I was feeling very let down. The adrenalin of the day before had dissipated and I was left with an empty tired feeling.

“I suppose you can’t win them all,” I said morosely.

“At least we tried.”

“Yeah. And all I got out of it was a busted head and a smashed up car. Irina’s been murdered and there are all these poor girls out there. And how many others have been hurt and how many other kids have had their lives ruined through cocaine or whatever stuff they pump into themselves? It’s horrendous.”

I was disgusted. I got up. “Come on let’s get the hell out of here. You go back home. I’ll have to phone Helen and then I’m going up to see Maggie and try to forget about the whole bloody mess.”

I called Helen with the news. She was as disappointed as I was.

“Where does that leave me?” she asked.

“First of all, it’s not Dugain who owns the forty percent. It’s LyonPharma. There’s a big difference. Pierre’s going to speak to Antoine to see if there’s any way all this business can be used to get Dugain booted out. If we manage that there will be a new guy appointed and then we can deal with him. Meanwhile you just carry on as if nothing has happened. How’s Richard after the events of the meeting?”

“He’s OK. I explained everything and when he heard about the trafficking he was fully in favour of what we tried to do.”

“Good. Apologise to him from me and I’ll let you know if I hear anything from Antoine.”

*

Pierre left the next day for Geneva, promising to tell Antoine the whole story and look into whether there was anything we could do. Now that he had removed the blackmail threat I knew that Antoine would be more than willing to try something. Apart from everything else he had clearly not at all liked the way he had been treated. He would want to see Dugain suffer as well. I would leave that to them.

I drove slowly back home to Letham feeling very depressed. The excitement of the last few days and the let down of the meeting with Ross had a strange effect on me. I felt lethargic, sad and fed up. Not the best recipe for a drive through the twisty roads of Glendevon so I took the main road via Perth and got home around six.

After dealing with the accumulation of the last week’s mail and a scratch supper I collapsed into my armchair and fell asleep.

I woke up, slightly refreshed about ten and sat for half an hour staring at the wall going over in my mind all that had happened. Again I said to myself that Liam would get over his firing. Helen had forgiven him when she had heard the whole story and that had helped a lot.

Ana had turned out to be a little gem. We’d have to discuss with her what she wanted to do now but that was Sophie’s problem. She’d handle it far better than I would. Anyway they were all up in Forfar, quite safe.

As for me, I had my cruise trip to Norway to look forward to. We were due to leave in ten days and it suddenly occurred to me that I was really looking forward to it. Sitting there, whisky in my hand, goofing at the wall it came to me that I didn’t like being on my own any more. But I’d wait until we were on the ship before I told Maggie.

How could these guys do what they were doing? How could they use young girls so callously just for money? Didn’t they have any respect for human life? I suppose the answer is that they didn’t. It wasn’t new. Slavery had always existed and still did. This was a kind of slavery. And we call this advanced civilization? Bullshit. Advanced material welfare perhaps but human beings haven’t changed much. The same raw emotions govern everything we do and I’m not even so sure that education has helped much.

After a while I gave up. I was just being a grumpy old man. I yearned for the optimism of youth and feared for the future of human kind. ‘Better stop this’, I said to myself and heaved myself out of my chair, poured myself another whisky, knocked it back in one gulp and went up to bed, hopefully to let sleep chase away all that pessimism.

Next morning, much refreshed, looking forward to seeing Maggie, looking further forwards to a ten day cruise and imagining the wonderful scenery we were going to see, I set off for Lochbervie.

I stuck Billy Joel in the CD player, put the roof down and cruised north. By the time I got to Dunkeld I felt as if I had put everything behind me. I had decided that it was going to be warm and sunny for the next few days. I would walk, maybe fish. I’d packed a couple of solid books and try to find my old, cheerful, optimistic self.

My welcoming hug and kiss were exactly as I had imagined them and we both slipped into that comfortable togetherness that we both seemed to need so much.

But not for long………

They came at dusk.

They had chosen their time well. At that period of the year the sun sets late in the evening – late enough for us to be in bed, yet still light enough for there to be enough visibility to negotiate the tricky Highland roads at a reasonable speed for their escape.

It was the scream from Maggie that awoke me. “Bob! Fire!” she shouted, leaping out of bed.

I can’t leap out of bed anymore. I rolled off the mattress onto the floor, shook my head a couple of times to clear my brain and grabbed for my clothes. Maggie had thrown on jumper and jeans and was looking out of the window.

“Bob, there are people out there!”

I pulled her out of the way for a better look. There was a large dark car parked on the road about sixty yards away at the entrance to the hotel. Below us just In front of the building were two men, faces hidden behind scarves. One of them had a jerry can in one hand and he was picking up another. The second man seemed to have a handful of rags and was making signs to his colleague that it was time to leave.

Up on the road I could make out the shapes of two people, one near the car and the other a few yards away, standing out against the pale reflection of the sunset. He was standing immobile, watching. I knew that silhouette. A tall man, small head, clearly visible against the soft light on the horizon. I could see what looked like bright red eyes until I realised that the light of the flames were reflecting from his glasses. I knew instantly who that was and what this was all about it.

I grabbed Maggie and pulled her towards the door. “We’ve got to get out … and fast.” But that wasn’t going to be so simple. They had done their job well.

Later I was to discover that they had gained access using a glass cutter on the pane of the front door. Security is never a major issue in a small Highland hotel. You don’t exactly expect burglars out here in the wilds. We had heard nothing and they had had the time to stack up anything inflammable in the dining room and the lounge – and there was plenty of that – before setting fire to it. They had even piled up table cloths on the first few steps of the stairs and set them alight, cutting off any hope of escape by that route.

As far as I could tell the ground floor was an inferno. The floor boards under our feet were scalding hot.

“Shoes,” I yelled, searching for mine.

Smoke hadn’t become too much of a problem yet, thank God, but I knew it soon would be. If we were overcome by the fumes there wasn’t going to be much hope for us.