He handed his car keys to the young detective, who left without a word.
‘What’s this about, Andy?’ asked Mrs Latham as the door closed behind him.
‘Probably nothing,’ said the detective. ‘But after three months of keeping his mouth shut, and asserting his wide-eyed innocence, Nathan Bennett was taken out to make sure he stayed silent for good about the man behind the Dalkeith bank raid. His sister was killed for the same reason.
‘When I saw Bennett on Friday, he let something slip which made me suspect that Hannah had been threatened. When she was murdered, that was confirmed.’
‘And you’re concerned that the killer had a source inside here, passing him information about Bennett?’
‘Spot on, Joyce. Albo and McDonnell were in the room when I interviewed Nathan. No one else could possibly have known what he said to me.’
‘Why were they in the room? Didn’t you make them wait outside?’
‘I would have, but one of them was difficult about it, so rather than waste time finding you or Ian to order them outside, I let them stay in.’
‘Which one raised the objections?’
Martin frowned as he pictured the two men in his mind. ‘The older one.’
‘That’ll have been Malcolm McDonnell. He’s at least ten years older than Tibor. Big man, moustache, dark hair?’
‘That’s him. How well do you know him?’
‘Not that well. I’ve never had any complaints about him from senior staff. He does his job and he keeps order. The prisoners don’t like him much, but he’s not here to win popularity contests.’
‘Can you remember how long he’s been in the job?’
Mrs Latham picked up one of two buff-coloured folders which lay on the desk. ‘Four years. He did his first year at Gateside in Greenock, and then transferred here.’
‘What did he do before that?’
‘According to this he was a delivery driver. Prior to that he was in the forces, for five years. Before that he had a number of jobs, and he was a professional boxer.’
‘Is he married?’
‘Divorced.’
‘What about Tibor Albo? What’s his background?’
She opened the other folder and glanced through it. ‘Albo’s been in the Service for six years. He left school at eighteen, did two years of a computing course at Jewel and Esk Valley College, then joined us. He’s engaged, from what I can remember.
‘He has a good record, and he’s within six months of a promotion.’
‘Let’s have him in, then.’
Joyce Latham nodded, and picked up the phone once more, dialling an internal number. ‘Mr McGroarty? DG here. Would you send Officer Albo up to the Governor’s office, please, straight away.’
They waited for five minutes before there was a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ called Joyce Latham, and a young fair-haired man in uniform stepped into the room. He was taller than Martin, and just as solidly built. His eyes gave a flicker of surprise as he saw the policeman, but it passed as he came to attention before the Deputy Governor.
‘Stand easy, Albo,’ she said. ‘Take a seat.’ She turned to Martin. ‘I’ll leave you alone, if you wish.’
He nodded. ‘If you would, please.’
When they were alone, he stood up, and leaning against the desk, turned to face Officer Albo. He smiled, but not with his eyes. ‘Tibor,’ he began, ‘someone in this prison has passed on information which set up Nathan Bennett and his sister to be murdered.
‘She was a nice-looking woman, Hannah Bennett. Quiet, Christian, conscientious, kept a nice house, kept a roof over her brother’s head, even though he was a difficult bugger. I only ever saw her once. She had a knife sticking out of the side of her head and she had shit herself.
‘When I find the person who passed on that tip about Nathan, he can sit all fucking day and say, “I never knew”, but it’ll cut no ice with me, or with the Crown Office. We owe it to Hannah to see that he goes down as an accessory to murder. When he does, he’ll be sent here.
‘That’s a nice thought, isn’t it. A screw banged up in his own prison. A lot of guys are HIV-positive in here, aren’t they?
‘When I find that man, there’ll be only one way out, and it’ll be through the witness box, giving evidence against the man who paid for the information.’ He paused and the smile left his face.
‘Do you have anything to tell me, Tibor?’
The young man was white-faced in his chair, but his voice was even and controlled, with no trace of panic. ‘No, sir.’
The detective stared at him, long and hard. ‘Did you hear what Bennett said to me on Friday.’
‘You told us not to listen, sir.’
‘Aye, but did you hear?’
‘Barely, but then I really wasn’t listening. I could see Nathan was scared, though.’
‘How well did you get to know Bennett?’
‘Quite well. He was a strange bloke. I think the Falklands left a bigger mark on him than just his hand.’
‘Did he ever talk to you?’
Albo nodded. ‘I was the only one he did talk to.’ He looked up at Martin. ‘They all need it, sir. Even the really tough guys. Someone to talk to. Some of the staff don’t want to know, but I see it as part of my job, to lend an ear to someone who really needs one. It’s a hell of a thing, locking a man up in a place like this for half his life . . . maybe more.’
‘What did he tell you? Did you ever ask him about the robbery?’
‘You never ask them anything, sir, other than about their families. That’s all Nathan talked about most of the time . . . his sister. He said that she was really good to him, and that he was afraid that he was ruining her life.’
‘What did he mean?’
The young man shrugged. ‘That he was getting in her way. That because he was there, living with her, it made it tough for her to have a proper relationship. He never said so outright, but I guessed that he took part in the robbery to raise the money for a place of his own.
‘He did say to me one day though, that the worst thing he had ever done was to get her mixed up in his life. “It never had anything to do with her,” he told me, “but now she’s in it up to her neck.” I guessed that she had been involved in the crime in some way, but I suppose now I know what he meant.’
‘Did you never think to tell anyone this?’ Martin asked. ‘You’re not a priest, man.’
‘Some of these guys think we are. I think we have to respect that. Did you never keep a confidence in your job?’
The Head of CID nodded, in silent acknowledgement of the point. He knew that was how criminal intelligence gathering usually worked.
‘Were you surprised on Friday, when Officer McDonnell insisted in staying in the room with Bennett and me?’
‘A wee bit, sir. But Malky’s like that. He can be a real book operator sometimes. He was right, of course; we’re supposed to stay with the prisoners at all times.’
‘How did McDonnell get on with Bennett?’
‘Much the same as he gets on with everyone else. He treats all the prisoners as if they’re just numbers. If they behave and don’t bother him, generally he doesn’t bother them. Very few guys give Malky trouble though. He used to be a boxer, and he can still handle himself.’
‘Did you ever see the two of them speaking?’
‘Not that I can recall,’ he said, at last.
‘So their relationship was normal in prison terms?’
Albo looked at the ceiling, as if for guidance. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘I can’t honestly say that’s true. They never crossed swords, and they never had a conversation that I saw. Yet I have to admit, there was something.
‘Once or twice, when he didn’t see me, I caught Malky looking at Nathan in an odd way.’
