Lee leaned back in his chair, composing himself. ‘No point keeping my mouth shut now, I suppose,’ he said.
‘It was the life, you see. Players train in the mornings, and unless we’ve got businesses outside football, the rest of the day’s our own.
‘We get bored. You can only go to the movies so often. And anyway, we’re sportsmen. So some of us go to the bookies and play the horses. A few of us get out of control. We think we’re infallible because we’re young and famous, with a few quid in our pockets. But we find out that we’re wrong.
‘I was down a hundred grand.’
Pye whistled. ‘To which bookie?’
‘The John Jackson shop just along the road. The fact is I didn’t really know one end of a horse from another. When it came to winners I couldn’t pick my nose. Eventually, Dougie Terry - he runs all the Jackson shops - came in one day and told me that I was barred, and that he wanted my tab paid off in three months.
‘I told him that if he waited till the end of the season, in six months, I’d ask for a transfer and settle up with him out of my signing on fee. Not that I wanted a transfer, mind. I only ever wanted to be a Jambo. A few months before that Rangers had offered one and a half million for me, but I’d turned them down. Pissed the chairman off no end, I’ll tell you.’ He grinned at the recollection.
‘But Dougie Terry said, no, three months it is.
‘I did the best I could. Every bonus went straight to Terry, but after two and a half months I was still eighty thousand down.’
He paused and took a deep breath. ‘One day, I was leaving the ground after training, and Ricky McCartney stopped me. I knew him from around the betting shop.
‘He said that Terry had sent him to make me an offer.’
Rose held up a hand. ‘He actually said that Terry had sent him?’
‘Yes. He said that Terry’s boss - I don’t know who that is - had been approached by a Malaysian gambling syndicate. The Jambos were drawn in the cup against some non-league team from Melrose. They had got there on merit but the odds on us to win were astronomical. McCartney said that Terry wanted me to make sure that we lost. I was to get our goalie in on the act and we were to fix it. If I did that, my tab was clear.’
‘And if you didn’t?’
‘McCartney made it clear that it wasn’t a request. He said that if I liked being a footballer, I’d better make it work.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘You must know what I did. I never said a word to our goalie, but he had a bad day and let one in in the first half. I got a dead leg early on, and it took me about an hour to run it off. But once I was moving freely it was easy.’ He smiled, sadly. ‘I was quite a player.’
‘You never considered letting the game go?’ she asked. ‘Not even when you were a goal down, and you were injured, and no-one would have known.’
Lee gasped audibly, and looked across at her with genuine shock on his face. ‘I’m a Jambo, Miss Rose. And I’m . . . or was . . . a professional footballer. Ours is the most honest game in the world, and this is one of the oldest and finest clubs in the world.
‘It’s unthinkable that any footballer would try to fix a game. That any Jambo would . . . I just can’t find the words.’
The Chief Inspector nodded. ‘I believe you. But why didn’t you report it to us?’
Lee smiled again, ruefully. ‘Because if I had, the truth about my gambling would have come out, and the fans would never have forgiven me. And because I was scared of Ricky McCartney.’
‘Yet you went ahead and won the game?’
‘Yes. I suppose I thought that I’d get away with it, that I was untouchable, and that after all, Terry would wait for me to get a transfer. I was wrong again.’
‘What happened, Jimmy?’ Maggie rose asked, gently. ‘On the night.’
Lee drew in his breath and furrowed his brow. ‘I was going home after a game. My last game. I still lived with my parents in Wester Hailes. I was nearly there when a guy stopped me and asked for an autograph. The place was deserted as usual. We were just chatting, when I was jumped and dragged off behind the building.
‘There were five of them. Ricky McCartney and four others. I recognised one of them - his name’s Barney something - but not the others. They were all wearing Hibs hats and scarves, and the other three had them over their faces.
‘McCartney said to me, “You made a big mistake, son. Dougie Terry’s boss had to pay off those Malaysians. Now you’re going to pay him off.” Then they set about me.’ He closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. He was trembling.
‘McCartney shoved a Hibs cap in my mouth, to stop me screaming. The other three used baseball bats, but he and Barney had big hammers. The three guys concentrated on my legs. McCartney and Barney battered my knees and my ankles with the hammers.
‘I fainted after a while. When I came to, they were gone. And so was I, as a footballer. I nearly lost both legs. I would have, but for an absolutely brilliant orthopaedic surgeon up at the PMR. I’ve got plastic knees and metal braced ankles now, but at least I can walk after a fashion.’
‘Why did you say it was Hibs fans who attacked you?’ asked Pye.
Lee shook his head. ‘I never did. I just said that they were wearing Hibs scarves, which was true. I just didn’t identify McCartney or Barney, that was all.’
‘Why not?’ asked Rose.
‘Because I was terrified, that’s why.’
‘Was that the end of it?’
‘Like hell! I got a hundred and fifty grand from my insurance, and Dougie Terry took the lot. But the club gave me a testimonial and that raised another eighty-five thousand. The organisers had that put in Trust, so they couldn’t touch it. The Chairman gave me a job on the staff too, so I could still be a Jambo. I always will be.’
‘We’re going to arrest McCartney,’ said Rose. ‘Will you identify him now?’
Jimmy Lee looked at her, as if making a decision, then nodded. ‘If you can guarantee me protection from him, I will. There’s no point in keeping my gambling secret any longer. Who’s to care? I’m just another ex-player on crutches.’
‘About Barney, the other man,’ said the policewoman. ‘That was almost certainly Bernard Cogan, a known associate of McCartney. He was killed in a pub fight about two years ago. It would help if we could identify at least one of the other men involved. How about the man who stopped you? Can you describe him?’
Lee nodded, emphatically. ‘Definitely. He was heavy built, with a big moustache and a scar across his forehead. ’ He drew a finger diagonally from his hairline down to his right eyebrow. ‘He was a real poser. It was cold, but he was wearing a maroon vest. He had a big tattoo on his right shoulder. A vulture, I think.’
Rose laughed in triumph. ‘Evan Mulgrew! We know where to find him, and I’ll bet that he’ll sing like a bird.’
She slapped the desk. ‘Come in Douglas Terry, your time is up. Or rather, it’s only just beginning!’
46
‘I’m a tidy bloke, Pamela. I like all the ends tied off, and everything neatly in place.’ Skinner sighed and scratched his head in exasperation.
‘I was expecting that you would come back with a statement from Donna somebody about her friendship with Carole Charles, and that would be it. Instead, you’ve discovered that Carole was lying to Jackie about her Yoga class, most of the time at least, and quite possibly, since we can’t find any trace of her, about the pal she was supposed to be meeting.’
‘Where does that take us, sir?’
He smiled at her across the dusty table. ‘You’re a woman. You tell me?’
Masters gulped. ‘Well, the obvious question, if not conclusion, is, was Mrs Charles having an affair? A middle-aged, attractive woman, maybe bored with her husband after twenty-five years - I was bored with mine
