Jack McGurk.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind, not that I was planning to keep it from you. It was something I had to sort out with Dottie, that’s all. She jumped on one of my guys and I wasn’t having it.’
‘It’s all sorted, is it?’
‘Yes.’
McGuire looked across his desk at the inspector. ‘That’s good. You see, I know that you have a history with her, and I wouldn’t want it getting in the way of anything important.’
‘It won’t, but how the fuck did Pye find that out? It was a while ago, and it didn’t cut across the job in any way.’
‘He didn’t find out, I did. She’s Special Branch, so she was vetted, thoroughly, by Neil McIlhenney. Your name came up, so I got told. You used to be a legend for the women, Stevie, till you settled down: a pure legend.’
Steele ignored the jibe; his brow furrowed. ‘Did . . .’ he began.
‘Yes,’ said the head of CID, anticipating the question. ‘George’s name did come up, but I had it removed from the file.’
‘That was good of you: you didn’t need to do that.’
‘I have my moments. So why did Shannon dig up Montell?’
‘How did you know it was Montell?’ Steele shot back.
McGuire sighed. ‘Stevie.’
The DI grinned. ‘Okay, you have your sources,’ he said. ‘He was checking the e-mails on Zrinka’s computer. When he tried to run down one particular address it got referred all the way back to Thames House, and Dottie had a midnight phone call. I took exception to the way she reacted, so she and I had a wee discussion this morning.’
‘And that’s it?’
‘Yes. I knew whose address it was anyway: it was the DDC’s.’
McGuire’s eyes widened, and his manner changed. ‘How did you find that out?’ he asked sharply.
Steele smiled. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Actually I was only ninety per cent certain, but you’ve just confirmed it. The e-mail screen-name was “robertmorgan”, all one word. When the big man was awarded the Queen’s Police Medal, his name was published in full in the citation: Robert Morgan Skinner.’
‘You sneaky bastard; you set me up there.’
‘I’m learning from my senior officers. And you can talk, sir. You knew exactly why I went to see Dottie. You were trying to find out how much I knew, that’s all.’
‘So you caught me. You’ve kept that information to yourself, yes?’
‘Too fucking right I have.’
‘Good man.’
‘I wasn’t too surprised, though: the boss has one of Zrinka’s pictures, and one of Stacey’s.’
‘Come again?’
‘It’s a fact: Montell told me. He’s pally with Alex, but you probably know that too. She has a Stacey Gavin original in her flat, a present from her dad. She told Griff that he has one himself, and that she bought him a Zrinka from off her stall. The e-mail was him asking Zrinka about buying a piece for Alex’s next birthday.’
‘Did she reply?’
‘She couldn’t, by e-mail. She could have phoned him, but we wouldn’t know that without checking her phone records, and I don’t plan to do that.’
‘You sure don’t,’ McGuire confirmed. ‘Has Montell figured out who the e-mail’s from?’
‘I don’t think so. If he has he’ll keep well quiet about it, unless he wants Alex to terminate their friendship on the spot.’
‘Good. We’re agreed, are we, Stevie, that we keep this entirely to ourselves as well?’
‘Who else knows about the e-mail check and the run-in with MI5?’
‘The chief and Brian Mackie, that’s all, and they’re both looking very hard in the other direction.’
‘What e-mail?’ said Steele.
‘Fine. So, when I face the media to confirm the Noone girl’s murder, what do I say?’
‘That we’re in no doubt about a link to the other two, and that we’re in pursuit of the man known as Padstow, who is at this moment our only suspect. You could also say that we don’t believe that there is a general risk to the public, as long as nobody does anything silly if they think they spot him. If you want to be controversial, you might add that Boras’s million would be no fucking good to anyone if they were dead.’
‘I might just do that. But what if I’m pressed on Padstow?’
‘Tell them that we hope to identify him very soon.’
‘Is that true, though? I’m telling them no porkies.’
‘Yes, but I’ll need to go back and see Dottie to chase it up.’
‘Then what are you waiting for? Get along there.’
‘I will, but there’s something else you should know, something I heard from Ray Wilding before I came in here. Somebody else has been trying to trace Padstow through the passport service, a guy from the Home Office.’
‘Why? Do we know?’
‘My best guess is that he’s in the pay of a newspaper, but hopefully Dottie will be able to shed some light on that too.’
McGuire pushed himself out of his chair. ‘Then find out, preferably before that newspaper asks me questions at four o’clock.’
Steele nodded. He walked out of the head of CID’s room, with a nod to Sammy Pye in the outer office, and headed for the Special Branch suite.
‘She’s on the phone, sir,’ said Alice Cowan, as he entered.
‘This time I’ll wait,’ he told her, with a smile, but as he did, the young officer glanced at an indicator on her desk.
‘It’s okay, that’s her finished: but I’ll let her know you’re here.’
He allowed Cowan to observe proper practice and waited until she nodded for him to go on.
This time, Dottie Shannon was ready for him. ‘Stevie, good; saves me looking for you. I’ve got some feedback from down south.’
‘On Padstow?’
‘No, not yet. They’re making progress on that front, they’ve got a few possibilities, and they’re looking into them before they give us the final verdict. But I have had a response to Wilding’s request. Has he told you about it yet?’
‘Yes. The Home Office guy: what’s his story? Is he on a bung from someone in the media?’
‘He’s on a bung, but not from that source. MI5 reported him to the Home Office security people, and they pulled him in for interview, there and then. He spat it out straight away, looking to save his job, no doubt.
‘When he was at the DTI, he was suborned by a man to provide what he described as “business intelligence”, on a regular basis. He began to get nervous about it, but he found that he was in over his head, and that the only way he could extricate himself was by moving out of the department altogether.
‘That’s why he applied for a transfer to the Home Office. He thought he was free and clear, so it came as a hell of a shock to him when he was contacted late yesterday afternoon by his old benefactor and asked to get information on Dominic Padstow.’
‘Yesterday afternoon?’ Steele exclaimed. ‘Before we went public with Padstow’s name?’
‘That struck me as peculiar too.’
‘Did he give them a name?’
‘Oh, yes, he gave them everything, all the detail, what he did, how much he was paid, and by whom. His paymaster was a man called Keith Barker.’
A broad grin spread across Steele’s face. ‘Mario McGuire will love that.’ He chuckled. ‘As far as he’s concerned nothing that happens to that man will be too bad. He’s Davor Boras’s fixer.’
‘Boras?’ Shannon repeated. ‘The dead girl’s father? The millionaire?’
‘The one and only. Not that he’ll get sucked into this. Unless I’m very wrong about him, Barker will be deniable; there will be no paper that links him to his boss. What’s going to happen about him?’
