The Blood of Crows (45 page)

‘But I wasn’t sent here because of Drew, was I? The school technically has still done nothing.’

‘We’ll view the fact that Drew is now getting the treatment he needs as a happy by-product. Howlett was
a good people manager – he knew you were right for the job.’

‘How?’

‘Just that a woman with your slight prejudice against the rich and beautiful would naturally notice a woman like Saskia, and that is what Howlett wanted. You were ideal for the job.’ Anderson pretended to read a text message. ‘What did you say to Helena? You two were having a fair old natter when you came to get me.’

‘Yes, we were.’ Then Costello’s mouth closed in a way that told him he’d get no more out of her.

His phone rang in his hand. ‘DCI Anderson … Drew Elphinstone? Yeah, test it for DNA but I think you’ll be right. Thanks.’ He closed the phone. ‘They are just confirming Drew’s presence at the cottage.’

‘So, we are just filling the blanks in now.’

‘Once MacFadyean was killed, Rosie was on death row, anyway. Drew found the cottage, did his SAS scout-about, then broke in and found Rosie lying there helpless. And he found Wullie’s rifle – he must have thought all his Christmases had come at once when he discovered that gun.’

Costello picked up a sheaf of paper, Mulholland’s small block-capital handwriting all over it.

Anderson pretended not to see as she covertly folded it and put it in her jeans pocket.

‘Did you understand all of what happened back there?’ she asked.

‘We’ll find out more at the debriefing tonight.’

‘We’ll be told what it suits them to tell us. The “them” in grey suits, not the “them” with guns.’

They walked out and across the car park, the sun warming them after the chill of the lecture room. Costello was thinking of the cool and assured way Libby had shot Fairbairn in the head, and the way Pettigrew had deferred to her. Pettigrew was a man not impressed by much, but Libby had his respect. Her family had his respect. ‘All this has been carefully planned for a long time. Libby and Pettigrew put me down that drain to find Marchetti. Pettigrew was guiding me all the way, telling me I was following Drew. Then pulling the gun on me when I threatened to go back to the school. He couldn’t tell me. He needed me to witness it … they needed us to witness it,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘And there’s no way Libby planned this all on her own. It’s more like –’

‘A professional strategist? Someone like Rosie?’

‘More like Archie O’Donnell, father or son. They would have the connections to pull off something like this. And think of the army training behind it. God, I was following Libby when she went to meet Pettigrew. I thought she shouted “Drew” when she tripped over that pit. But she must have said “Pettigrew”, and I just caught the end of it. It was him she was expecting to meet. Oh yes, there is a huge organization behind all of this. They have been planning it for ages. And as for Libby, I’d say it was in her blood. Colin, do you ever wonder where the grandchildren of all the old gangsters are now? I bet the answer is Glen Fruin Academy, Chamberlain’s, any of the posh schools. Guys like Auld Archie were intelligent but uneducated. But the next generation – God knows what they might become.’

‘I don’t want to tarnish your shining vision of an army of clear-eyed young vigilantes taking to the streets and cleaning up the Russians. How much is organized crime worth in Glasgow? About five million pounds, maybe a bit more,’ Anderson said. ‘It’s not altruism, it’s business.’

‘So, why did Rosie do it, then? Why did she start working with Morosov? She wasn’t exactly living in the lap of luxury.’

‘Batten hit the nail on the head with that one. She had severe psychological issues that the force never picked up. They should have offered her help, rather than trying to get rid of her. That just bred a deep resentment, and made her ripe for Morosov to corrupt. It wasn’t money. It was power. Power to live as she liked, in isolation – without people looking at her, making fun of her. If you have no power to stop eating, I think you might like to make up for it by the power you can exert over others. Just a small thing like the power of life and death.’ Anderson stopped and examined the back of his hand. ‘I confess, I felt it myself when I picked up that gun. It’s so easy, Costello. So easy.’

Costello took his hand. ‘But you did the right thing. I would have blown his head off, like Libby did.’

‘And can I just point out that Libby is nowhere to be found. She disappeared into the forest, and so did Pinky. For all we know, she could be down a drain by now.’

‘Nae chance. She’ll find us when she wants to.’

1.30 P.M.

Costello eventually traced Mulholland to his flat at Port Dundas. It was a penthouse with lifts, underground parking, gym, swimming pool, the lot. Easy when you have a rich mum. But maybe she and Libby had a greater sense of loyalty, coming from the shittier side of the street.

And Vik was going to get a lesson on that one.

She knocked on the door loudly, even though he knew she was coming up – she’d said so on the entry phone. Even so, he kept her waiting. When he opened the door he was still doing up his tie, nuzzling the knot up to his neck, and the jacket of a good suit was lying across the back of a white leather chair.

‘You going somewhere?’ she asked, checking the huge TV for the DVD slot in the top.

‘Yes. It’s important. What do you want, Costello?’

She picked up the remote, and slipped the DVD into the slot. Then she pulled the paper from her pocket. ‘Is it something to do with this?’ She was glad to see Mulholland look rather scared.

‘That’s private.’

‘It has to do with the case. What were you going to do, Vik? Go creeping to the new ACC with your evidence of Colin’s alleged compliance in non-disclosure? Are you selflessly campaigning for justice for the late Mr Fairbairn? Or are you just stamping on Colin’s career to get your stripes back?’

‘Nothing
alleged
about it. He misfiled an inconvenient piece of evidence.’

Costello just glared at him and pressed the remote.
The DVD clicked into its slot, and the screen came to life.

‘He’s not exempt from the law, you know.’ Vik smoothed his collar down. ‘Anyway, he’ll be going to Australia, so it’s no skin off his nose.’

‘And what if he stays?’ Costello asked. ‘His career is over, if you take this further.’

‘I’ve no choice.’ He went to pick up his jacket. ‘And I am going to be late.’

‘Your choice is to file your evidence where nobody will find it.’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Of course you can. You owe him some loyalty, Vik. He had loyalty to McAlpine. And there were times when they were both loyal to you.’

‘He was guilty of non-disclosure. I have proof that he had sight of the statements from Wood and McAdam. He signed them, Costello. He’s in it up to his neck.’

Costello pressed Play. The image of Rusalka’s small terrified face filled the screen, her eyes screwed up in agony. ‘He was in the bloody Clyde up to his neck, you arse, trying to save
her
!’

‘Turn that off!’ snapped Mulholland, grabbing for the remote.

Instead, she turned up the volume. The screams filled the room, and they could hear the child snatching for breath.

‘Ten years old,’ Costello insisted remorselessly. ‘You’d have put that bastard back on the streets? You’d get Colin the sack for sticking
him
behind bars?’

‘It wasn’t his call!’

‘Wrong answer.’

Mulholland didn’t get the chance to reply. Costello’s fist, fuelled by six months of being nice to people, rammed into his nose. The blood pulsed down to his chin and on to his nice silk tie.

‘I’ve had enough of you little public school shites to last me a lifetime,’ she snarled. As she opened the door she said, with sugared venom, ‘Watch the time. You don’t want to be late.’

2.20 P.M.

Costello walked across the car park, ignoring the impulse to skip. She was happy. She realized that punching Mulholland had made her feel alive again. She pulled the band from her head and ruffled her hair. Let them look at the scar if they wanted. She’d phone the hairdresser tomorrow and make an appointment to go blonde again. The pain in her face was gone, and she realized she wasn’t feeling for the mesh in her cheek the whole time. It was part of her history now.

Earlier, O’Hare had phoned and asked her to pop into the mortuary at the hospital for a mug of tea.

But once there, her good mood deserted her. She was looking down at a zipped body bag, tagged and still unidentified.

‘So, what happens to her, little Rusalka? It’s not right, her lying cold in a drawer. Will you be able to send her home, one day?’

‘We’ll look after her until we can, don’t worry. There’ll
be further enquiries with the embassy, try to establish who the three dead girls are, where they are from.’

‘Will there be an official enquiry about Tommy Carruthers’ twenty grand? And where it came from?’

‘I doubt it. I don’t think Mary has any real idea – Tommy never told her, and Rene doesn’t know whether it’s Montrose or Monday. We’ll know more once we can decode all Rosie’s stuff – which is not only coded, but coded in Russian! She was a nasty piece of work, that woman, lying in her bed and sending out instructions to all and sundry to torture and kill. Clever, but very unpleasant.’

‘How did she and Wullie stay hidden for so long, in this day and age?’

‘Good geography. Hidden paths. God knows, our team got lost more than once. Only three and a half miles from the next house, but you could be wandering about for ever out there. Wullie and Rosie MacFadyean were well protected by the
Vorony.
The Russians considered them a golden couple. Her laying out strategies to get the drugs and the girls in, and the money laundered and out. Wullie her invisible scout. Anything to disrupt any chance of the O’Donnells and the McGregors getting together.’

‘The five cops, were they –’ Costello struggled for the right word ‘– bound together by what happened at Seana Bhraigh all those years ago? I still don’t get that.’

‘You don’t have that mindset, Costello. Or maybe you do. What if your encounter with Fairbairn had gone differently, if Colin had pulled that trigger? You would have stood by him, lied through your teeth that he’d fired in
self-defence. Mulholland, on the other hand, would have dropped him right in it.’

‘I think you’re right.’

‘Both Batten and I think it was Moffat who put an ice axe through Hunter’s head and tipped the body off the edge and down into the lochan. Moffat and MacFadyean could have largely engineered that situation. Purcie and Carruthers were fairly easily controlled. Hunter was probably too dominant a character, too career-orientated, to be seduced in the same way. He might have sealed his fate by asking too many awkward questions. Can’t imagine what they must have thought in the morning; no sign of Hunter, Purcie guilt-ridden and covered in blood, and Carruthers much the same. And both so grateful to Moffat for keeping it all quiet. Moffat was too full of himself to notice that it was MacFadyean, moving like a shadow, who was manipulating them all. It was all planned to get those three good cops amenable to working outside the law. At least, that’s what Moffat must have thought he was doing. It certainly came to fruition when they needed a clear run to get the Marchetti boy out.’

‘Nearly twenty years later? There must have been more in the meantime.’

‘And do you not feel bound to those who were with you last night? What you witnessed created a bond.’

‘You might be right. But twenty years?’

‘And I have no doubt at all there will be much more to uncover. How many times do you think a wee favour was called in, a blind eye turned?’ O’Hare went quiet. ‘I wouldn’t call Colin Anderson a corruptible
man, but even he stepped outside the law when he thought it was the right thing to do. It’s all a question of values.’

4.00 P.M.

Anderson pulled up outside his house, surprised to see a car parked across his driveway. He parked a little way down the street. As he got out of the car, a voice came from behind him.

‘Hello,’ it said, female, confident. ‘I just want to thank you in advance for not arresting me.’

‘Libby?’

She wound down the rear window, smiling at him quizzically. ‘I’m thanking you in advance, for the future.’

‘That might be a bit hasty. I know ACC Howlett was happy to help you put a bullet through a paedophile’s brain, but you were still wrong to do it.’

‘You should look the other way, if you don’t like it.’

‘You know I can’t do that.’

‘But you already have. If you hadn’t, I’d be banged up in the Vale at Her Majesty’s pleasure by now on a whole load of charges.’

‘There’s still a line that should never be crossed,’ said Anderson, trying to maintain the high ground, and hearing the tone of voice he sometimes used to his daughter.

A large man he didn’t know got out of the car and opened the door for him.

‘I’d like you to come for a short drive.’

The presence of the large man, now standing behind
him, left him no choice. He got in beside Libby, and the large man got into the driving seat.

‘You’re quite safe,’ she said. ‘You’ll only be twenty minutes late home.’

The car pulled out and headed slowly down the street, out to the wide road leading to the docks.

‘If you’re going to ask me to join up, you’re barking up the wrong tree,’ Anderson said.

She laughed, and for the first time he was aware that she had a real but steely charm, like a latter-day Cleopatra.

‘Don’t forget, I’ve got a gun with your prints on it – the gun that killed Skelpie Fairbairn. Anyway, you’re much more valuable being what you are – a good cop. So, I’m going to help you cross the T’s and dot the I’s in your report without too much digging. I know you’ll get hell from your bosses if you don’t. But you have better things to do with your time.’ She handed him an envelope. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not a bribe. It’s information that you would get no other way. It’s about those three dead girls, so you can send them home.’

‘How did you … ?’