Whisky From Small Glasses (18 page)

‘Yes, quietly. And?’

‘So, he says tae me that he didna want tae upset you wi’ gossip, but he thought he wid run it past me . . .’

‘Oh no, has somebody found out what happened between me and that horse? I never touched it.’ This was Daley’s habitual response to some imagined conspiracy.

‘Shut up, you, this is serious.’

‘Well, spit it out then.’

‘Right. Well, apparently yer man MacLeod has been daein’ the business wi’ this Janet Ritchie – dirty auld bastard.’

It took Daley a few moments to assimilate this information. ‘So, let me get this straight, that wee shit MacLeod’s been screwing this woman Ritchie, who’s twenty-five years younger than him, and a heavy drug user, and basically a parttime prostitute?’

‘That’s the kinda thing, Jim.’ Scott looked at his boss, waiting for the explosion.

Daley’s response was a surprise. He threw his head back and began laughing uproariously. ‘Brilliant, Brian, just brilliant. That anally retentive arsehole’s in the shit now.’

‘I think that’s what you call a mixed metaphor, Jim.’

‘Ask young Archie to come and see me, would you? We’ll nail the policeman formally known as Inspector MacLeod right now.’ Tears of laughter were spilling down his face. ‘Wait until I tell His Majesty – he might even forget the press conference.’

Scott frowned as he went to find Archie Fraser.

‘I know I should’ve let on earlier – when she was first mentioned in connection with the victim – but you know what it’s like, sir. Loyalty and all that shit.’ Fraser looked at the floor. Having to reveal that MacLeod was having an affair with Janet Ritchie was obviously weighing heavily on him.

‘I just wish you’d told me sooner, Archie, though I don’t believe that this will have any bearing on the case. I don’t suspect weasel face of any crime, other than a spectacular lack of judgement. I’m going to confront him shortly, and I won’t mention your name if you don’t want me to, but it would add some weight to my accusation. Are you absolutely sure this is true, son?’

‘One hundred per cent, sir. He’s been spotted by half the staff. He thinks he’s being very clever, meeting her on the West Beach where no one’s about. You know what this place is like – eyes everywhere. I got told about it first in the County.’ Fraser’s colour was high; it was not often that a young cop got the opportunity to get his own back on a senior officer who had been tormenting him for nearly a year, though Daley detected no malice in the DC.

‘OK, Archie, I might need a statement from you in the near future. Anyway, we’ve got more to be worrying about at the moment than Inspector MacLeod’s peccadilloes. What are you doing just now?’

‘I’m just about to go up to Tarbert with one of your Paisley guys, sir. We’ll have a poke about and see if we can find out what Mulligan was up to there. Do you think he’s a viable suspect, sir?’

‘All we have on him at present is the fact that he’s disappeared.’ Daley smiled. ‘And of course that he’s friends with Janet Ritchie, but as we know, that doesn’t make you a murderer. I want to find him and the girl pronto though.’

‘OK, sir.’ Fraser got out of his chair. ‘If you’re finished with me, I better get on. Folk are champing at the bit.’

Daley watched Fraser leave the office, then he rubbed his hands together vigorously. He had thought of calling Donald as soon as he had found out about MacLeod, but decided to speak to the inspector first. He was a colleague after all, no matter how repellent, and Daley had never been in the business of hanging other cops out to dry – not unless they deserved it. He dialled MacLeod’s internal number.

‘Hello, Inspector MacLeod.’ This guy was formal, even in the office.

‘Daley here. I want you to come and see me as soon as possible, please.’

‘What?’ MacLeod sounded instantly irritated. ‘If you want me to run to you like a lapdog now you’ve got a promotion, you can think again. I’m getting some much needed paperwork done here. I’m still Sub-Divisional Commander, so if you want to speak to me you can report to my office.’

‘I want to talk to you about Janet Ritchie. I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate any further.’

The line went dead, and within a minute MacLeod appeared in the CID office. He sat down opposite Daley in
the chair recently vacated by Fraser. His face was ashen, and he bore none of his trademark arrogance.

‘Whatever you’ve heard is not true.’ He looked darkly at Daley. ‘This place is a nightmare. If you’ve got any kind of status at all, they’ll come crawling out of the woodwork to try and put you down – fucking bastards. They hate anyone who’s not local. You wait, they’ll have you in their sights too.’

Daley noted that his voice was even more accented than usual, he hissed his Ss like a spitting snake, his poison the vitriolic hatred of the people he was in charge of policing. ‘It wasn’t a local who informed me of your – relationship – it was a police officer, if you must know.’

‘That big ginger shite, Fraser, no doubt,’ he said and muttered some curse in what Daley assumed must be Gaelic. ‘I should’ve despatched him back up the road. He’s totally unsuited to the CID. Just you wait till I get my hands on him.’

Veins were prominent on MacLeod’s forehead, his fists clenched on the desk.

‘You’ll shut up and listen to me, MacLeod. I’ve not mentioned this to anyone other than DS Scott. First, I want you to confirm or deny that you have some kind of relationship with this young woman. Then, if the answer is in the affirmative, I want you to explain to me what the fuck you thought you were doing, and why, when you found out that she was beginning to feature prominently in this investigation, you didn’t see fit to come and tell me – like anyone with any sense would have done.’

‘It’s not what you think, Daley. It’s my business. Nothing to do with this investigation at all.’ He stood up and thumped the desk. ‘Can a man have no privacy in his life?’

Daley got out of his chair too. ‘Sit down, MacLeod, and remember where you are.’ Furtive glances were already being cast towards the glass box.

Both men sat down, and Daley spoke again, in more measured but no less stringent tones. ‘I’m investigating the brutal murder of a woman who was last seen in the company of her best friend, who has herself disappeared. I then find out that the senior officer in the town has been giving her one. You can forgive me for wondering where it will all end.’ He stopped and leaned back in his chair, a silent invitation for MacLeod to explain himself.

‘You don’t understand.’ MacLeod’s voice was no more than a whisper now, his eyes downcast.

‘You’re damn right I don’t understand, and don’t give me the wife-doesn’t-understand-me routine.’ Daley was beginning to get impatient.

Suddenly MacLeod raised his head and looked right at Daley with his pale blue eyes. ‘She’s my daughter, Chief Inspector.’

Daley sat motionless for a few moments. MacLeod held his head in his hands, his fingers kneading his balding head. ‘May I ask how you end up with a daughter in Kinloch? Apart from the obvious answer of course.’

MacLeod raised his gaze. He looked resigned, tired and unhappy. Daley could see that he was on the verge of tears. There was something else here – something he couldn’t fathom. OK, it wouldn’t be nice being in MacLeod’s position having a daughter with such a chaotic lifestyle, however, it was not unusual for the children of police officers to go off the rails. The son of one of his colleagues was doing time for
serious assault, and Brian Scott’s daughter had been involved in drugs when she was barely a teenager. No, there was something else going on here.

‘I can see your mind working. I know you’re a clever detective, Daley, so I don’t intend to try and lie to you in any way.’ MacLeod’s accent was stronger still, a sign that he was under pressure. The same thing happened to Donald when he was stressed; the affected Kelvinside drawl soon took on the guttural twang of Glasgow’s East End.

‘I can see that something’s troubling you, Inspector MacLeod, and if it’s of a personal nature then I feel for you, and I’ll do my level best to help you, as I would any colleague, but if, in any way, what you’re clearly holding back affects this investigation, I demand that you tell me immediately what impact it is having, or is going to have. I realise you’ll have loyalties to your daughter, but this is a murder inquiry and Janet is the best friend of the victim. For all I know she may herself be in danger.’

‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ MacLeod shouted. ‘I do have some police experience myself, no matter what
you
think of me.’

‘I promise you I’ll do all I can to keep your name out of this, and that includes informing my superior – on my word, no matter what
you
think of
me
.’ Daley’s voice was calm. Whatever it was that MacLeod had to tell him, he needed to find out as soon as possible.

‘As you are no doubt aware,’ said MacLeod, ‘my daughter is less than I could have wished for. Her mother and I were close when I was a young beat cop in Glasgow. She was a nurse at the Royal Infirmary.’ MacLeod was looking into the middle distance, reliving the past through his mind’s eye. ‘I
got posted up to Oban, I’d never really wanted to work in Glasgow, and I was homesick, I suppose. Anyway, we lost touch. She’d visited me on a few occasions, but she liked the city life. That’s why I was so surprised to bump into her here, not long after I arrived. I hadn’t set eyes on her for over thirty years.’

‘Obviously that wasn’t the only surprise she had in store,’ Daley said gently.

‘No, indeed. She told me about Janet – not straight away, you understand, but after a while. She and our daughter barely spoke. She hoped that when I was introduced to her as her father it may bring them back together. Janet, I learned, had always been a bit of a handful, which is why her mother moved from Glasgow to a village near Lochgilphead when she was young. She thought that rural life may improve things.’ He looked at Daley. ‘They ended up here because of her mother’s work. Do you have any children?’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Daley with no expression, anxious for MacLeod not to lose the thread. ‘It must have come as a real shock to you.’

‘I don’t know what kind of man you are, Chief Inspector, but I had always wanted to have children. My wife is unable to, you see.’ His gaze drifted again. ‘When I found out I had a girl, well, I was thrilled, despite the difficulties it presented. We all have a past, do we not?’ He looked frankly at Daley.

‘Did you tell your wife?’

‘Therein lies the problem. I didn’t. I always meant to, but . . .’ He sounded choked, almost as though he might burst into tears.

‘Go on.’ No matter how hard these revelations were for MacLeod, Daley had to find out if they were relevant to the
inquiry; otherwise, regardless of their nature, they were none of his concern.

‘When I found out what a thoroughly detestable human being Janet was, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Mary, and possibly ruin our relationship too.’ Tears were now in his eyes.

‘How do you mean detestable, Charles?’ Daley used the man’s first name by way of encouragement, letting him know that he sympathised.

‘Och, she is all I despise in life: a drug addict, a whore, a fucking opportunist. It didn’t take me long to suss her out, let me tell you. A fucking chancer, prepared to open her legs for money or drugs. That’s what the only child I have is like. You name it: crack, cocaine, speed, GHB, the works. She’s a disgrace.’

‘She might be a lot of things, but her record is pretty clean. Nothing for three years. You’d have thought someone with her lifestyle would . . .’ One look at MacLeod answered his question before he had asked it.

‘Yes, I have covered up for her, I know what you’re thinking. She was blackmailing me, her and that bastard Mulligan. I’ve been a fool, Chief Inspector Daley, a fucking fool.’

‘How much have you covered up?’ The tone of Daley’s voice had hardened slightly.

‘Bits and pieces. Turned a blind eye to soft drugs and some of the goings-on in that bar. Nothing serious. You know yourself, the whole world’s mad with narcotics. I couldn’t have stopped them even if I had the manpower and the courts behind me, which I don’t.’

Daley rubbed his face with his left hand. He felt as though he’d been awake for weeks. This was the last thing he’d
expected this investigation to throw up. ‘What form did the blackmail take? I’m assuming it was pretty bad if you went to such lengths to keep her sweet.’

Silence.

‘I’ll ask you again, Inspector MacLeod: in what way were you blackmailed?’

‘I want your word, Daley – your word – that this will go no further. I promise you, anything I’ve done has no bearing on this murder inquiry.’

‘And?’ Daley drummed the table impatiently.

‘I had a brief affair – a fling, nothing more. My daugh—Janet found out. The usual stuff: threatened to tell Mary, call headquarters, the bitch.’

‘Who did you have the affair with?’

‘I’ve told you that I had an affair, is that not enough, man?’

‘You’ve already told me enough to see the end to your career. I’ve never come across such wilful stupidity in my life. All you had to do was admit to your wife that you had an affair, and that would’ve put a stop to the pair of them. You didn’t have the balls. Much easier to condone illegal drugs and prostitution right under your nose. Tell me who you had the affair with, or I swear I’ll pick up this phone and dial Complaints and Discipline right now.’

When it came, the revelation was enough to rock even the unshockable Daley. ‘It was Izzy Watson. Izzy Watson,’ he repeated, as though this revelation had come as a surprise to himself. ‘Now you know. But I swear to you, I had nothing to do with her death. You’ve got to believe me, Daley, please. For fuck’s sake, man, help me.’ MacLeod broke down completely.

*

‘You’ve got a big heart, Jim, I’ll gie you that.’ Scott was shaking his head ruefully. ‘It was obvious the man wiz a snake, but I didna expect him to turn a blind eye tae drugs dealers an’ shagging prozzies.’

‘I know it’s a risk, Brian, but I don’t think he’s involved in this murder, no matter what a tit he’s been. He’s not to leave his house though – he has a pretty good motive after all, so I’ve stuck a car outside – just in case he thinks the unthinkable. There but for the grace of God and all that, you know?’