‘My client is exercising his right to silence and will continue to do so. This interview is over.’

Chapter 57

Wednesday morning

The buzz had gone from the incident room. The buzz had gone from the whole team.

McCormack had been given bail.

Addison had taken the call from the Procurator Fiscal’s office and relayed the bad news first to Narey then the rest of the team. The Fiscal wasn’t convinced they had the physical evidence to justify holding McCormack in custody. He was pleading guilty to leaving the scene of a crime but not the three murder charges they’d stuck on him. His passport had been taken from him and he was not considered a flight risk. He would face trial but wasn’t being held on remand.

It was a body blow to every one of them. The adrenalin-induced elation of getting their man was gone, replaced by disgust at him being allowed home and having perhaps months before a trial. Worse, there was a gnawing fear that he might never be convicted for the murders of Hepburn and Feeks.

Everyone was in a bad mood, not least Narey. She knew she was grouching at people when it wasn’t their fault but it didn’t stop her from doing it. She snapped at Maxell and shouted at Toshney. She later did both with Addison as if to prove she wasn’t just taking it out on the ranks.

Doors were being slammed everywhere; a despondency spread through the building and threatened arguments wherever it went. They’d already started anew on making sure they could find sufficient evidence to guarantee a conviction in court but it couldn’t take away the frustration in the meantime. They knew he’d killed all three and it stuck in everyone’s throats.

Which is partly why Rico Giannandrea found himself in danger of being lynched when he came into the incident room with a smile on his face and a whistled tune on his breath. The DS was a naturally buoyant character, laid-back and taking the world as it came, but this time it wasn’t appreciated. Misery loves company, not a cheer.

‘What the hell are you so happy about?’ DS Lewis McTeer was still hanging around like a bad smell. Given that everyone else was pissed off, it was inevitable that miserable sod would be even more unhappy than the rest. Rico wouldn’t be dissuaded by a prat like McTeer though.

‘Happiness that lasts too long spoils the heart, eh, McTeer? No danger of that happening to you.’

‘What? You taking the piss?’ McTeer was itching for a fight.

Rico just smiled and spread his arms wide. ‘Old Italian proverb that my granny used to say. Don’t worry, be happy.’

Narey wasn’t going to side with McTeer but neither was she up for light-hearted banter. ‘Leave him, Rico. No one’s in the mood.’

‘Well I am,’ Giannandrea countered. ‘And while it’s not going to make up for McCormack walking, it might just put a smile on a couple of miserable faces.’

If he meant hers, then Narey wasn’t going to take it well. But she was listening. ‘What have you got?’

‘You asked me to look into a company called Orient Development. Told me to see if they were full of Eastern promise.’

She’d almost forgotten amidst everything else that had been going on.

‘Well, as you probably suspected I would, I found connections to Saturn Property. Johnny Jackson and I did some digging and found links between Orient and both Valhalla Homes and Hastings Developments. Directors of Orient include Barbara, wife of Dominic Hastings, and June, wife of Valhalla’s Jason Grieve. The husbands being barred from taking directorships. The day to day running of Orient is done by one Mark Singleton. They and Saturn are basically the same company.’

Now she was interested.

‘We went to Saturn’s office in Skypark and there on the wall was a framed artist’s impression of Orient’s planned development in the East End. Full of Eastern promise.’

‘So two companies are owned by the same people,’ McTeer sneered. ‘So what?’

Narey thought she had already figured it out, or at least what she’d do from there, but it was Rico’s show and she was content to leave the stage to him.

‘Well, Lewis, my happy little friend, so what is that it gave us two seemingly different companies that had put the frighteners on at least two tenants to leave their properties so they could be demolished. Archie Feeks and Walter McMeekin. Neither wanted to stand up on their own. Thought no one would listen to them. But together?’

‘Walter’s going to do it?’ Narey was smiling but could barely believe it.

‘He’s already done it, boss. He and Archie Feeks both gave statements and descriptions of the man who intimidated them. In both cases the threat to burn them out of their homes was implicit but unlikely to stand up in court. Together, it’s much stronger. And we got photofits done from both of them and the two images could be twins.’

‘Anyone we know?’

‘Yep. A fire-starter by the name of Martin Tully. Jacko says this guy is reckoned to be the best in the business. The insurance companies and our guys have been after him for a few years and never been able to lay a finger on him. Now we have something. We’re going to haul him in and squeeze his nuts till he decides whether he goes down or Singleton does. I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Walter isn’t going to make the most reliable witness. Saturn’s lawyers will go gunning for him.’

‘I know. Which is why I was hoping we could get him out of the Rosewood and into somewhere better. Let’s face it, anywhere would be better. And maybe encourage him to lay off the drink or at least cut it back.’

Narey ran her hand through her hair as she thought about it

‘That might be easier said than done. Let me go speak to him. And I’ll try Malcolm Colvin at the City Mission. He knows Walter and should be able to help. That’s great work, Rico. Terrific. You hear that, McTeer? A reason for even you to smile.’

‘Yeah. Great.’ McTeer’s face called his words a liar.

‘Well if you can’t smile then beat it. Go on, find some work to do somewhere else.’

‘If you say it’s important, hen, then I’ll do it. If I can. I’m no promising anything though. I’ve been drinking for a long time. I’ve got too good at it.’

‘I’m not looking for miracles, Walter. I know it’s a big ask. But if you try, that’s good enough for me. I figured that if we get you into a better place then you’ll just maybe have one reason for staying sober a bit longer.’

The old man smiled at her, his eyes crinkling round the edges. ‘I’ll not be sad to leave the Rosewood though. I’ve been in there near enough a year. That might be a new record to be there that long and still be breathing.’

She laughed, seeing something of her dad in him, probably not for the first time. A thought occurred to her.

‘Do you follow football, Walter?’

He shrugged. ‘Not so much these days. The game’s all about money. Average players earning millions, it’s ridiculous. But aye, I like the football. Why?’

She hesitated. ‘It depends. Who do you support?’

He narrowed his eyes as he tried to work out what she was after. ‘I’m thinking I should say Partick Thistle so as no to ruin something.’

‘Ha. No, tell me who you support.’

‘I’m a Celtic man. Always have been.’

‘Ah that might be a problem. But then again it might just be perfect. My dad’s a Rangers fan, you see.’

‘Och I’m no a bigot, hen. I’d argue with anybody.’

‘Well, good. How would you fancy spending some time with my dad? Say once a week, to see how it goes. Just a cup of tea and a chat about football. I think it would help him.’