Hold Hands in the Dark (4 page)

Chapter 6

S
am had left Dani with plenty to think about. He’d made copies of all his investigative notes and passed them onto her. The file lay on the passenger seat beside the DCI as she drove back to Glasgow.

              James had left her a message. His mother was ill again and he was going to stay on at their home in Leith until she was a little better. James’s sister was a high profile defence advocate in Edinburgh and could never take time away from her work. It fell to the Irvings’ youngest child to rally round in a crisis. Dani knew her boyfriend could work easily from there. His current clients were based in the capital anyway.

              Dani still felt uneasy about his absence. She could really do with James to be at home, providing his usual steady, reassuring presence, to prevent her mind from dwelling on Sam Sharpe. Nostalgia was a powerful emotion, she knew that. Dani couldn’t afford to mistake the feeling for anything else.

              The DCI was relieved when a call came through on her hands free. It was from DS Alice Mann.

              ‘Afternoon, Alice. What have you got for me?’

              ‘Dan and I interviewed a member of Tony McRae’s team, Ma’am. He claims that the platform Tony fell from was supposed to be out of bounds. One of the protective barriers was damaged. He says the foreman knew about this. He can’t understand what McRae would have been doing up there on Thursday night.’

              ‘Is he willing to provide a formal statement?’

              ‘I’ve got it right here, Ma’am.’

              ‘Good work. Tell Phil to get back onto the CEO and confront him with it. The director made no mention of the faulty safety equipment when he was first questioned. We’ll also have to get statements from all the men who were working on that ship. If the others find out that one of their colleagues is willing to talk, there may just be some more brave souls prepared to come forward.’

              ‘Aye, Ma’am. DC Clifton is already on it.’

*

Dani pulled the door to her office closed and opened the file from the Richmond Police Department. She could almost smell the strong coffee and taste the sweet pastries that had contributed to its compiling. But perhaps that wasn’t how Sam worked any longer. It had certainly looked as if the detective had recently been on one hell of a health kick.

              She focussed her attention on Dale Faulkner instead. Sam had really done his research on the guy. But then Dani knew from her own experience how driven Sam had been to bring the murderer of a US citizen to justice. It was how she’d met the detective in the first place. Faulkner was also a member of Sam’s squad, and a good friend.

              Dale was born in the Glasgow Infirmary in 1967. His family rented Crosbie Farm, near Farland Head in West Kilbride. The Faulkners had farmed the land for three generations. But in the summer of 1976, when Dale was nine years old, the family moved to Midlothian, in the Petersburg region of Richmond, Virginia.

              Dani looked up from the notes. It struck her as poignant that the Faulkners had chosen to emigrate to a place with a Scottish name. Perhaps it allowed the family to feel like the move was less of a wrench. Somehow, it made the DCI sense that the relocation wasn’t entirely what the family wanted. They were trying to cling to a vestige of what they’d left behind.

              As she read on, however, the motivation became clearer. The Midlothian area was named by the Wooldridge brothers, who had settled there three hundred years earlier. They established a coal-mining and farming community in Midlothian, Virginia to match the region’s namesake back in Scotland. Coal-mining wasn’t practised in the area by the seventies but the Faulkners had set up a modest smallholding, making the most of the preponderance of creeks and fertile land.

              Dani flicked back through the pages to Sam’s earlier notes. Magnus and Susan Faulkner had two children. Victoria was born in 1965 and would have been eleven at the time of the move. But there was no mention of her living at the farm in Virginia. Dani lifted the phone on her desk and called Sam’s mobile.

              ‘Hey, how can I help?’

              ‘What happened to Dale’s sister? There’s no record of her living in the United States.’

              ‘No, she never went with the rest of the family. The elder daughter stayed in Scotland with her grandmother, according to your social security registers. I assumed they didn’t want to disrupt her schooling in the UK.’

              ‘She never went out to join them later? I think that’s odd, don’t you? How old would Victoria be now?’

              ‘She’ll be fifty, maybe fifty-one. Same age as me.’

              ‘And as far as we know, she’s never lived outside Scotland?’ Dani drummed her fingers on the desk. ‘It might be useful to try and pin down an address. Let’s have a little chat with Victoria Faulkner, if we can.’

Chapter 7

P
hil and Andy stood in a plush foyer, where framed photographs of imposing battleships and cruise liners hung on every wall.

              The receptionist finally nodded towards a closed door at the end of the corridor. Phil entered first, taking a chair at the shiny desk.

              ‘DI Boag and DS Calder, pleased to meet you. I’m Raymond Hemingway, CEO of Hemingway Shipyards.’

              The man was thin and balding, but the expensive suit and dark rimmed designer glasses gave him gravitas.

              ‘Thank you for sparing us your time,’ Phil began. ‘I know you must be busy.’

              Calder cleared his throat. He didn’t know why his colleague had to be so damned ingratiating.

              Hemingway formed a smile. ‘We’re always willing to help the authorities.’

              Andy nearly snorted out a laugh. Fortunately, he was able to hold it back.

              ‘We have spoken with a number of your workforce, Mr Hemingway. Some new evidence has come to light as a result,’ Phil continued.

              The smile died on the man’s lips. ‘Oh, yes?’

              The DI glanced at his tablet. ‘Platform 12b, the one that Tony McRae fell from, we have been informed that it was out of bounds to the workforce.’ He glanced up. ‘You didn’t mention this before, when we spoke on the phone.’

              Hemingway shifted in his seat. ‘I wasn’t aware that it was. I’d have to check with the safety crew. They make those kinds of decisions.’

              ‘We’ve done that already, sir,’ Andy chipped in. ‘The safety manager designated the area dangerous to enter at the beginning of this month. He sent the information to you in an email dated the 3
rd
March.’

              The CEO narrowed his eyes. ‘These routine reports go through my PA. She will have filed the information appropriately, I’m sure. At my level, I don’t always become aware of every single detail of what goes on within the shop floor, as it were.’

              ‘Okay. So you claim you didn’t know that the platform was unsafe?’ Andy leant in close enough to smell the man’s aftershave.

              Hemingway blinked a couple of times before answering. ‘No, I did not, although McRae was working on the boat outside of his designated hours, Detective Sergeant. Our handbook clearly states that this nullifies our responsibility towards his safety. Our lawyers are very certain about this.’

              Andy nodded amenably. ‘Yes, of course. But
our
lawyers say that if it’s found that McRae felt pressurized into working long hours for fear of his job then that small print might just not be worth the paper it’s written on.’

              The CEO’s face reddened. ‘I’m not sure exactly how you would go about proving such a thing.’

              ‘Oh, witness statements from your employees, their relatives, medical reports and mounting incidents of stress-related illness amongst the staff. The whole investigation could drag on for months.’ Andy sat back and folded his arms across his chest, giving the impression of making himself very comfortable in the leather seat.

              ‘We do appreciate your cooperation thus far.’ Phil’s voice sounded strained. ‘But we’re going to need further access to the site. Our techs only did a preliminary examination of the spot where Tony fell. We will now need to look closer.’

              ‘Fine.’ Hemingway threw a hand up into the air dismissively. ‘Send in whoever you choose. But I won’t stop production on their account. I need to get this ship out to the Middle East by the end of next week. The death of Tony McRae, however unfortunate, is not going to stop us.’

*

Phil strode ahead to the car, climbing into the driving seat and slamming the door. He said nothing until Andy was seated beside him and they were pulling out of the carpark.

              ‘I thought we decided that
I
was going to lead the interview?’

              Andy shrugged his shoulders. ‘I wanted to push the conversation along a bit faster.’

              ‘I was building up to confronting him with the more tricky questions. There was no need to go blustering in like a bull in a china shop. Now Hemingway is totally hostile. He isn’t going to cooperate willingly with us in future.’

              Andy grunted. ‘He was hardly doing that anyway. The guy was bullshitting us.
Of course
he knew that platform was unsafe. It’s the typical corporate response to claim you never received the email. These bastards are world champions at arse covering.’

              Phil sighed. ‘It’s part of our job to be even-handed. We can’t assume the company’s guilt whilst we’re still investigating the accident. As a senior officer, you should know that.’

              Andy twisted in his seat. He noticed how hard his friend was gripping the wheel. Phil was seriously pissed off. ‘I know you haven’t spent much time in the field up to now, what with you being the primary carer to the girls and all that, but myself and the DCI have a certain way of doing things. That’s how I always interview one of the bad guys and believe me, Hemingway is definitely one of the bad guys. They sell warships to foreign dictators for Christ’s sake!’

              To Calder’s great surprise, Phil abruptly brought the car to a halt at the side of the road. A van shot past them at speed, narrowly missing the wing mirror and blaring its horn in the process.

              The DI turned to face him. His expression steely. ‘Look, I realise you’re used to working with the boss. And you and she have a way of doing things. But I’m the superior officer now. DCS Douglas has partnered us up and I’m determined to make it a success. Bevan liked to give you free reign, but I swear to God Andy, if you undermine me like that again in an interview I’m going to take it upstairs. Not to Dani, or even Douglas, but straight to the new DCC. Your glory days are over Calder. It’s time to knuckle down and play ball, just like the bloody rest of us.’

Chapter 8

I
t was getting late. Dani was just considering fixing herself some dinner when the doorbell rang. She padded down the hallway and peered through the spyhole. It was Andy.

              Dani opened up. ‘Is everything okay?’

              ‘At home, sure. Carol knows where I am. In fact, it was her who told me to come and speak with you.’

              The DCI was intrigued. She stood back and allowed her friend to enter.

              Andy breezed through the small flat to the dark kitchen, eyeing his surroundings as he passed. ‘Is James the only one allowed to switch on the lights?’

              Dani chuckled. ‘I hadn’t noticed how late it had got. I was about to make some food, actually.’

              ‘Please don’t mind me, go ahead. I ate with Carol and Amy hours ago. But a glass of wine wouldn’t go amiss.’

              Dani poured them both a glass of red. ‘So, what’s the problem?’

              ‘Phil Boag.’

              Dani crinkled her brow. ‘Has something happened with the girls?’

              ‘Naw, nothing like that. He just really lost it with me today, after we had our meeting with Hemingway at his office.’ Andy recounted the events, word-for-word.

              Dani busied herself at the stove for a few minutes, mulling the incident over before she responded. ‘I suppose he had a point. Perhaps I indulged you a little bit when we were on the job. It was because I genuinely believed your methods worked. But then I don’t have a bloke-sized ego. I never thought Phil did either, but then we didn’t reckon on him having an affair and kicking Jane out. It’s no surprise he wants to let you know who’s of the higher rank. He was setting down a marker.’

              Andy took a swig of Merlot. ‘Yeah, I totally understand that. But there’s more. It bugged me that Phil was so soft on Hemingway. It got me thinking.’

              ‘Phil has a gentle manner, we’ve always known that. His strength is in the thoroughness of his background checks and paperwork. As far as working in the field is concerned, he’ll quickly learn how to bust some balls.’ Dani fried a chicken breast with an assortment of vegetables in a pan, feeling unconcerned. When she turned round to dish up, Andy’s serious expression worried her.

              ‘Phil left his tablet computer on the desk when he went to lunch. It was logged onto his bank details page. I checked out the previous month’s transactions on his account.’

              ‘You’d no authorisation to do that. If Douglas finds out, you’re history.’

              He nodded gravely. ‘Yeah, but once the seed of doubt was planted, I had to see for myself.’

              Dani dropped into the seat opposite. ‘And?’

              ‘Well, you know what it’s like for Phil at the moment. He’s got an ex-wife in a fancy flat on the Southside, a new wife installed at their house in Pollockshaws and Sorcha is in her first year at St Andrews. The guy has got some major financial responsibilities to shoulder right now.’

              Dani didn’t like the sound of this. She was shovelling the food into her mouth, but it barely tasted of anything.

              ‘A deposit of £5,000 went into his account three days ago.’

              ‘Do you
seriously
think that Phil is taking backhanders from Hemingway Shipyards?’

              ‘I’ve been talking it through with Carol for the last couple of hours. We couldn’t come up with any other explanation.’

              ‘Can the bank trace where the money came from?’

              ‘I called them up this afternoon. I said I was from the fraud squad, performing random checks on larger than normal transactions. According to the cashier, the money was deposited by way of an envelope full of fifties passed over the counter at the West Princes Street branch on Monday.’

              ‘Shit.’ Dani put down her fork and lifted the wine glass. ‘Then why put it into his account at all? If the money is dodgy, Phil would know we might check. We’d be able to get a court order no problem.’

              Andy shrugged his shoulders. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t think we
will
check. Let’s face it, the last person we’d ever believe was bent at the Pitt Street station is Phil ‘saintly’ Boag.’

              The DCI thought about the instructions she’d been given by DCS Douglas at their confidential meeting. This was exactly the kind of evidence that her boss wanted brought to his attention immediately.

              ‘For the time being, don’t mention this to anybody at Pitt Street and don’t confront Phil with what you know.’

              Andy nodded, relieved to have dumped this particularly thorny problem on someone else.

              ‘But I want you to keep a very close eye on him. Make a note of who he calls, what questions he asks witnesses and who he meets. Let’s make sure we’re absolutely certain about this before we drop our old friend in the crap.’