A Cold Killing (Rosie Gilmour) (14 page)

She knew she was pushing her luck. Ruby could blow up and storm out of the bar if she’d something to hide, or if she even suspected that Rosie knew about her history. But there was something about her look, plus the fact that it was Ruby who was the one doing all the phoning. She didn’t sense badness in her. Just a wild, primal survival instinct and, somewhere, a vulnerability that she was trying her best to conceal. Rosie was a past master at that.

A blush rose on Ruby’s cheekbones. Her lips tightened and she touched her neck, pulling her scarf up a little as though she felt exposed.

‘Why are you asking that?’

‘Gut instinct.’ Rosie took a breath and waited a second. ‘Ruby, I know what happened to your mother . . . Jackie. I know what Rab Jackson did to her. And Malky Cameron. I know what they did to your sis—’

‘I don’t want to talk about that.’ Ruby’s eyes hardened and she swallowed. ‘Don’t go there. Right?’

‘Okay.’ Rosie nodded. ‘Were you working in Spain?’

‘Look, Rosie, cut the crap. You obviously know more about me than I do, so what’s going on?’

‘Okay,’ Rosie said. ‘I have information that you were working with Rab Jackson.’

Silence.

‘What information?’

‘Well, not working, that’s not quite accurate. But you were seen with him. On the Costa del Sol.’

‘Who by?’

‘Cops.’

‘Fuck me, fucking gently!’

‘It’s okay. You were only seen in his company. It was part of an international covert operation around eighteen months ago, and your face came up in the picture. A snitch ID’d you as Ruby Reilly. But that was all. Nothing else. Then, in King’s Cross, when you left the restaurant, you were seen on CCTV.’

‘Fuck! So they know who I am?’

‘They’re not sure. Somebody spotted the CCTV and, when they fed it in, you came up on the earlier operation. They tracked you going onto the Eurostar, but not as Ruby Reilly.’

Ruby tensed up.

‘Christ! So tell me one thing. Are they closing in on me? Look. I know you don’t owe me anything, but you could tell me that. If you do, you can use my story as “the woman in the café” telling what I saw, but I want to remain anonymous.’ Rosie could sense her panic.

‘I’m not here to do deals like that. But no. They’re not closing in. I don’t think you’re that important to them, actually. But
I’m
interested in you.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m also working on the story of the murder of those two vicious bastards Jackson and Cameron.’ She paused, studying Ruby for her reaction. ‘Only somebody with a thirst for retribution and real balls could do it. I was looking into the story and your name came up.’

‘Christ almighty! Now you’re saying I’m a killer? Any amount of people could have cause to do them in.’

‘Yeah. But they wouldn’t. Cops say people would be too scared to touch them. They’re still protected by their lowlife cronies here and abroad.’

‘So you think I did it?’ She snorted. ‘How many murders do you think I’ve been involved in? The King’s Cross murder, his pal Hawkins, Jackson and Cameron? Hey. How about the Bible fucking John murders? They never got anyone for that.’ She shook her head, incredulous.

‘Before your time, Bible John,’ Rosie joked, hoping to lighten things up. ‘Calm down, Ruby. I’m not talking to anyone about you. There are no cops about to march through the door and huckle you. I’m just looking to work on the story of Cameron and Jackson. And anything else you can help with.’

Silence.

‘Okay.’ Ruby swallowed. ‘I do know something about that murder in London. At least I think I do. I’ve only just found out. That name I gave you when I first called – J B Solutions? That was from a piece of paper I found on the table after the big Russian guys left. I picked it up. Don’t ask me why. Curiosity. Instinct. I’ve been funny that way all my life. But I couldn’t believe it when I checked them out. I know who they are. I know them. I know who the owner is.’

Rosie felt a little dam burst in her head. At last. A breakthrough.

‘Yeah? Jesus, Ruby! It took you long enough to come out with that.’

‘Aye, well, I just wanted to see what you knew.’ She leaned forward. ‘I don’t want to talk about Cameron and Jackson. They’re history. End of. So don’t go there. Or about my sister. But I can help you with that stuff, about the company.’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘And other things, too. But I need some guarantees.’

‘What guarantees?’

‘I’m not working with the cops. I don’t trust them.’

‘Roddy Thompson.’ Rosie threw in the name just to see what happened.

Nothing.

‘Who?’

She was either a good liar or had no idea who he was.

‘Never mind,’ Rosie said. ‘Look, I won’t be working with cops, but I’d like to nail this J B Solutions company. I have information. You’ll see the paper tomorrow. Tom Mahoney was about to blow the whistle on a lot of things. He was a spy.’

‘A spy? Christ!’

‘And he knew things about J B Solutions and their dealings. They supplied arms to UK cops and to the army.’

‘I know. And to half the fucking villains from here to London and Spain.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I just do.’

‘I need to know how. I mean, how
would
you know that?’

‘Because I’m a fucking accountant. All right?’

Rosie looked at her. Ruby Reilly. The frightened little girl she was on a desperate night a lifetime ago is not who she is now. She was a class act.

The second drink arrived and Ruby took a long slug.

‘I’ll help you, Rosie. Okay? I’ll put my trust in you. Because the truth is, I don’t have a lot of options in my life right now. But I’ve been places in my head you won’t believe. I’m not normal. I was brought up in a children’s home, with all the shite that involves. I’ve looked after my sister for the last five years while I’ve moved around the world doing what I do.’

‘And what exactly is it that you do?’ Rosie asked.

‘I’ll tell you later. But I had to find a safe place for my sister. Every fucker thinks she’s dead, and that’s how I wanted it to stay. Except today I found out that’s not the case, and it’s a problem for me. I have to take action. My sister is my biggest secret – the most important one. I’d have given up years ago if it weren’t for her needing me. She’s . . . she’s the only person in the world who’s ever needed me.’ Her eyes moistened a little and she blinked twice.

Rosie watched her. The front was beginning to crumble a little. Not a lot, but enough to know that behind the mask was an abandoned, angry, driven child. Rosie knew how that felt.

‘I know what you mean,’ Rosie said. ‘More than you can imagine.’

Driving past her local newsagent’s on the way to the office, Rosie spotted the
Post
’s billboard: ‘S
HOT
P
ROF WAS
S
OVIET
S
PY
’ the headline screamed in bold black letters. The slick marketing boys didn’t mess about. The
Post
would be flying off the shelves. She hadn’t gone back to the office after yesterday’s early-evening drama in Ayrshire, despite McGuire telling her he wanted to see her. Matt had been dispatched, along with the AA, to get her car out of the ditch in Ayrshire and bring her back. To everyone’s surprise, the damage was minimal and the car still drivable. Back on the road, she and Matt had stopped at a café, where she’d told him he would be getting pulled into the story in the next day or so, once they had worked out the next move. She gave him only the basics but, as usual, he was choking to get involved.

*

‘Where are you, Rosie? He’s looking for you.’ It was Marion on the phone.

‘In the car park. I’ll be there in two minutes.’ Rosie was already heading for the revolving doors at the
Post’s
entrance.

She stretched her arms above her head, wincing at the pain in her back from the crash.

‘Shagger’s back?’ Jean grinned at reception as she walked in.

‘I wish.’ Rosie smiled.

Declan glanced up from his screen as she put her bag on the desk opposite his.

‘Some splash in the paper today, Rosie.’ Then he noticed her limping. ‘What’s happened to you? Swinging from the chandeliers again?’

‘Christ. Everyone’s a comedian.’ She stretched her neck. ‘Bit of a crash last night, early on. Car skidded into a ditch. Yes, I’m glad to be alive. You can quote me on that.’ She winked over her shoulder as she walked towards the editor’s office.

‘Wait till you hear this, Mick,’ she said, limping into his office. ‘You’re going to love it.’

He peered over the top of his reading glasses.

‘Don’t give me your bullshit, Gilmour. What the fuck?’ He took off his glasses, cocked his head to watch her limp. ‘And don’t try for the sympathy vote. Explain.’

‘I will . . . in a minute.’ Rosie sat down delicately on the sofa. ‘But first . . . I met Ruby Reilly last night.’

His expression changed.

‘Seriously?’ He sat back, folded his arms. ‘She got in touch again?’

‘Yep. Just as my car hit the ditch – and I realized I wasn’t actually dead . . . my mobile rang and it was her. I met her later in a pub in Ashton Lane. That’s why I couldn’t come in last night to see you.’ She gave a little sarcastic smile. ‘I knew you would understand.’

‘Aye, fine. But what the fuck were you doing down in Ayrshire? You know I like to be kept informed of where you’re going. I can’t seem to get that drummed inside that bloody head of yours! I mean, you could have ended up dead in some ditch, and the last place I would have looked for you would be fucking Kilmaurs.’

‘I know. Sorry. Won’t happen again.’

‘Yes it bloody will. I’m going to tag you. I’m telling you, I will.’ He gave her a look; part reproach, part affection. ‘Right. So where were you?’ He took a sip of his coffee. ‘Oh. And great stuff this morning, incidentally. None of the other papers was anywhere near us. The bastards just lifted the story once our front page hit the streets . . . But I’m expecting some heat to come our way from the cops or the MoD. Fuck them. Let’s see where we go from here first.’

‘Okay,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ll explain the Ayrshire run first.’

Rosie told him about the tip from Humphy Boyd, and he shook his head in disbelief as she regaled him with the story of the monkey diving around the living room.

‘You’re fucking joking! A monkey! Did you have Matt with you for a pic?’

‘No. I was on my own. We can’t use Humphy anyway. He was just giving us the info. He’s got to stay out of it. But his information was solid. So I drove straight down to Ayrshire.’

McGuire listened as she told him of her meeting with the retired DCI Roddy Thompson.

‘And it was after I left his house that someone forced me off the road.’

‘So who did it? Why would anyone do that, and who knew you were in Ayrshire? I didn’t even know, and I’m the fucking editor.’

Rosie shook her head.

‘I don’t know. That’s what worries me. Like you, I’m sure Hawkins was murdered, but there’ll be no way of proving it. So maybe whoever did that saw me going into his house a couple of times. That’s my thinking and, to tell you the truth, it gives me the bloody creeps.’

McGuire steepled his hands under his chin.

‘We’re going to have to be ultra-careful here. At least with normal villains you can almost see it coming, but this is different.’

‘Yeah. Anyway, never mind. We can’t sit here fretting about that. I’ve got more to tell you.’

Rosie told him about her tip from Don that the woman in the café had been identified as Ruby Reilly and that she’d been seen with Rab Jackson during a covert police operation eighteen months ago.

‘I like the sound of this. So what’s this bird like?’

‘Striking,’ Rosie said. ‘Very good-looking. Seems a bit hard at first but a lot of that’s just a front, I think. I talked to her for a while last night over a couple of drinks and she basically told me everything. She’s all right. She’s going to work with us on this.’

‘Really?’

‘So she says.’

Rosie had been surprised at how much Ruby had been willing to tell her the previous night, and she described to McGuire how Ruby had confirmed what Mahoney had said in his dossier about J B Solutions.

‘She said that she’s been told that Mahoney was actually there, on that operation. That’s the information she gave me.’

‘How the hell does she know that?’

‘She wouldn’t say straight out. The thing is, I hadn’t said anything to her about what was inside Mahoney’s dossier and yet she was talking about the same stuff. We have to keep her onside. I think she’s a way into the heart of this.’

‘So why is she suddenly being so cooperative? And who exactly is she in relation to Rab Jackson and that bunch of lowlifes?’

‘All she said was that she was an accountant. She said she’d tell me later what it is she does. Her story goes way back, though, to twenty-five years ago, when her mother, Jackie Reilly, was burned to death. It was Jackson and Cameron who did it.’

‘Right. And she goes and works for him? So what exactly does she do as Jackson’s accountant?’

‘Just moving his money around. Making him legit.’

‘So she’s just as bad as them. Another fucking gangster.’

‘True, I suppose. But she’s on our side.’

‘Why?’

‘She’s got this sister. Judy. She was a kid that night when they battered the mother to death. The sister was raped and brutalized by Jackson and Cameron. She’s in a nursing home now, apparently in some kind of catatonic stupor. She hasn’t spoken since it happened. So Ruby looks after her and she says she needs the money so she can get her the best care.’

‘Aw, give me a hanky. I’ve a tear in my eye here.’ He shook his head. ‘So what does she want?’

‘Initially, it was just to inform us that all this crap in the papers about her being involved in the Mahoney murder was nonsense, that she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.’

‘So why did she get off her mark?’

‘She didn’t want to be there when the cops arrived.’

‘She’s on the run?’

‘So it would seem. From Spain.’

McGuire sat for a moment, his fingers drumming the desk.

‘Wait a minute, Gilmour. She works with Jackson, then fucks off after he dies, comes here, then his cohort Cameron gets torched in his garage. It doesn’t take Columbo to work that one out.’

Rosie nodded.

‘You think she killed them both.’

It was more of a statement than a question. Rosie suspected she had but she’d pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

McGuire’s eyebrows knitted.

‘Does she seem capable of that?’

‘I don’t know. But you know what? I didn’t ask. And I won’t ask. Because right now she’s in a position to help us get an inside track on this story.’

‘She may be a killer – twice over. And that’s an even bigger story.’

‘But she may not be. And that’s not the point.’

‘Yeah? Tell that to the High Court judge. Of course it’s the fucking point.’

‘Yes, I know that. But it is not of any interest to us right now. Leave that to the cops. If they can find evidence on her or anyone else, then that’s up to them. It’s not
our
job.
Our
job is to unravel all the stuff about Mahoney’s death. That’s our story, and we’re already halfway there. Ruby can give us the lowdown on who’s who, and she might even be able to get us a proper inroad so we can expose the whole shooting match.’

McGuire sat in silence, his mouth tight.

‘What can she give us?’

Rosie told him about the connection again and that Ruby had mentioned Tam Dunn as being the owner of J B Solutions, and his links to Jackson and Tony Devlin.

He nodded.

‘And afterwards, if we crack the story? What does she want?’

‘I haven’t got that far with her. But I know she won’t work with the cops, and I know that her only priority is to keep her sister safe and alive. She’d assumed everyone who knew them years ago believed that her sister had died a few months later. She was even told that herself for years afterwards, while she was in and out of care. Then a few years ago she discovered her sister was alive, and it took a long time to track her down. So I’m not sure what she wants. But I think she wants to put these bastards away, and she may be in a position to do just that. She can lead us to them. We can’t knock that chance back.’

McGuire took a long breath and let it out slowly.

‘Okay. Then we deal with what we’ve got. We should be looking at these companies.’

‘Yes. I want to go down to London with Matt and have a look at J B Solutions. Discreetly.’

‘Yeah. Discreetly.’ Mick shook his head. ‘I’ve been there before with your “discreetly”, Gilmour. There’s usually a body count in the first three days, and you’re just lucky that so far you’ve not been one of the stiffs.’ He adjusted his tie. ‘I’m wondering about getting the cops involved at this stage. It might make sense to work with them on it. And also, it might keep you a bit safer. I don’t think you can go tiptoeing around a major arms dealer. You really could get your head blown off. If these people can blow the head off an old professor in a busy London café, then a journalist poking her nose in is no problem. I have to think about this.’

‘I hear what you’re saying. But we need to think about an undercover operation—’

McGuire’s phone rang, interrupting her, and he answered, looking irritated as he listened. ‘Tell them I’ll get back to them before the day’s out, Marion,’ he said, putting the phone down.

‘See what I mean?’ He spread his hands. ‘That’s Special Branch already. They want to come and talk to us. Some chappie is on his way up from London.’

Rosie sighed, pushing her hair back.

‘It’s your call, Mick.’

He nodded sarcastically. ‘Thanks for that.’

‘You know what I mean. If we work with them, we give up a lot of our own ground.’

‘Hmmm. We’ll have to see them anyway, see what they’ve got to say. It’ll just antagonize them if we don’t. I’ll give Hanlon a ring and we can talk legalities and how we’re placed. So don’t you dare go anywhere. And that’s an order.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Rosie saluted him as she walked towards the door. ‘But I was thinking if we do a bit of undercover on this J B Solutions, maybe I could bring big Adrian into the mix.’

‘And do what?’

‘Set up a meeting or something. Pose as arms dealers.’

‘You don’t look like an arms dealer.’

‘How do you know what they look like?’

‘I don’t. But I’m guessing they’re not women like you. Do you think you could carry something like that off?’

‘Only one way to find out. Can I talk to Adrian?’

‘Sound him out, then we can discuss it.’

Rosie stood up.

‘Fine. I’m going to work on a follow-up story for tomorrow, and after that I’ll have a detailed look at that dossier. I skimmed over a lot last night.’

She headed for the door, but McGuire was already engrossed in his screen, typing with two fingers on his keyboard.

‘And get an X-ray on that back,’ he said, without looking at her. ‘I can’t afford to have you packing up on me.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Rosie had no intention of having her back checked out. A hot bath and a couple of painkillers would do the trick.

*

In the office off the editorial floor Rosie sifted through the notes on Mahoney’s dossier until she came to the page marked ‘J B Solutions’, which she had looked at briefly last night. Now she scrutinized it, fascinated. It gave the name of the main players, Damar Guns. There were typewritten notes of payments hidden in bank accounts in Liechtenstein. Mahoney was claiming that fake documents and licences had been granted by the MoD. She sat back, taking a long breath and letting it out slowly. How the hell was she going to get to the bottom of this? Deal with what you’ve got, McGuire had said. But all they had was information on who the arms dealers were at the centre of this and some of the papers from Mahoney’s documents. And that Tam Dunn, the owner of J B Solutions, was involved with Rab Jackson, so whatever else he was he was definitely a thug. But there was only one way to get the proof. She sat back and swung her feet onto the desk, massaging the back of her neck. Whoever Tam Dunn was, he had to be slippery enough to obtain a licence to supply arms, so he would be no pushover. She looked up the company address in Pinner, North London. Then she scrolled down her mobile and dialled Adrian’s number.