‘Aye, poor old Georgie boy. Who’d have thought he was dealing in suss instruments, eh?’
Something in the other man’s voice made Chris Hunter look up.
‘Did you know what he was up to?’
‘Me?’ Simon feigned innocence, his eyes laughing behind their wide stare. ‘A clean-living country boy like me? Come off it!’
‘Did you, though, seriously?’
Simon shook his head. ‘Never suspected a thing. Knew he did the odd line, well he hardly kept that a secret, did he?’
‘No,’ Chris replied. ‘Liked to flaunt that, didn’t he?’
‘Aye, it fair annoyed the old women, didn’t it? Remember how Karen used to go on about it?’
‘Come on, Si, she’s only just been buried, for goodness sake,’ Chris protested.
‘With full honours,’ Simon replied. ‘Wonder how much Drummond charged for the Chorus’s services today.’
‘Surely they’d be singing for free?’
‘You don’t know Maurice Drummond. I bet even now he’s invoicing Quentin-Jones.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Chris replied shortly. ‘Nobody could be that cold-blooded.’
Simon ran a hand through his hair. ‘Someone is, though,’ he said darkly. ‘Someone’s cold-blooded enough to do in two of our orchestra.’
‘You think it might be Drummond? Why?’ Chris twisted around to look at Simon’s expression.
‘There was something between him and Karen.’
‘What sort of thing?’ Chris asked, a frown creasing his brow.
‘Och, I don’t know really. I’d seen them arguing together. There was no love lost between that pair, I can tell you.’
‘Have you told this to the police?’
Simon made a face. ‘Tell them what? That Drummond didn’t like our Assistant Principal Fiddle? There were quite a few who would come in to that category. Come on, let’s be honest, she wasn’t everyone’s favourite person, was she?’
Chris shook his head and sighed. ‘I suppose not, but it’s wrong to speak ill of the dead. Especially today.’
Simon laughed, ‘Nothing you or I can say will hurt her now, pal.’
‘I was just thinking of the family,’ Chris protested.
‘Aye, I know. You’re a soft-hearted lad, aren’t you,’ Simon told him, reaching out and grasping Chris’s wrist. ‘That’s one of the reasons I love you,’ he whispered, drawing Chris’s hand up to his mouth. He began sucking gently at his fingertips until Chris gave a groan and swung his body onto the bed beside him.
The light was beginning to fade when Chris finally fell asleep. Simon observed the faint shadow of his chest as it rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was only that whisper of gentle breathing in the room now and the murmuring hum of the ioniser, mere shadows of sound. Even familiar shapes became blurred and indistinct; the fiddle in its open case was a dull gleam of polished wood. Simon stared at it for a long moment.
‘I wonder what’s happened to her violin,’ he asked himself dreamily, then a sudden shiver made him pull the covers over his naked feet.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘We’ve found the violin!’ Jo Grant stood breathless opposite Lorimer, her hands on his desk, her face radiant.
‘Well, well! Sit yourself down, Inspector, and tell all,’ Lorimer smiled at her enthusiasm but his own heart had jumped at Jo’s words.
‘It was in Vienna. In the back of a van that was transporting instruments for the Berlin Philharmonic. Can you believe that? I mean they’re one of the best known …’
‘OK, just the main facts. How was it spotted?’ Lorimer cut in.
Somewhat chastened, Jo continued, ‘The truck, van, whatever it was, had been stopped at customs for a spot check on the Austrian/Czech border. Seems they’ve had trouble with drugs coming over from Eastern Europe by way of Prague. The Orchestra had just done a series of concerts in Prague and had returned to Vienna for the next part of their tour.’
‘And the violin was found at the border?’
‘No. The truck was stopped at the border for a check. Nothing was found. Squeaky clean lot the Berlin Phil,’ Jo remarked, ‘unlike some of ours,’ she grimaced.
‘Anyway it prompted the driver and his second in command to take a look for themselves. And, bingo! Here was a violin surplus to their listed instruments.’
‘How did you find this out?’
‘Well, we’d posted the violin as missing on a website that’s dedicated to stolen instruments. Company called Smartaction operate it. The Berlin chap cottoned on to that and this fax came through,’ she glanced at her watch, ‘twenty minutes ago.’
‘What took you so long?’ Lorimer asked dryly then smiled as Jo made a face at him. Here was one officer who didn’t feel intimidated by her boss. The realisation came with something approaching delight. Suddenly all his misgivings about DI Grant and Superintendent Mark Mitchison vanished.
‘Have the Germans any idea how the instrument came to be there at all or is that a daft question?’
‘Yes,’ Jo grinned. ‘Not a single soul is putting up their hands for this one, but I will tell you that the First Violin in the Karlovy Vary Symphony Orchestra reported a Vincenzo Panormo missing a few years ago. They’ve collected the insurance now, right enough. There was a certain reluctance on the original owner’s part to identify the violin, I believe.’
‘Aye, I can believe that,’ Lorimer growled, remembering the fantastic price tag that the instrument had carried. With that kind of insurance money the owner would surely have bought some other violin by now. ‘So what’s happening to our instrument?’
‘We’ve got the full cooperation of the Austrian police. They’ve made sure nobody’s touched the violin and just in case, they’ve kindly fingerprinted the whole Orchestra and crew!’
‘Good Lord! You have been busy while I was out enjoying myself, haven’t you?’
‘Was it grim?’ she asked suddenly, remembering the funeral. Then, as Lorimer didn’t respond, she made another face. ‘Well it’s not been a typical Friday afternoon. Never is around here, though, is it? Anyway, they’re bringing the violin over personally. One of their officers is apparently coming across to London for Christmas so she’s arriving at Glasgow Airport some time tomorrow afternoon.’
Lorimer sat back into his chair. If the Vincenzo Panormo hadn’t been too messed about, could Rosie’s team find anything on the violin that would link it to Karen’s killer?
‘Jo,’ he said slowly, ‘Get on to the Crown Office. Tell them we need a warrant to DNA test the City of Glasgow Orchestra and Chorus. Oh, and extend that to the backstage crew and the admin. staff, will you?’
Jo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at his request but she rose immediately, giving Lorimer a mock salute as she left his office.
Less than a week to go, a little voice reminded Lorimer as he picked up the telephone. Just six days and he should be with Maggie once again. But would this new lead keep him in Scotland? The thought filled Lorimer with a feeling of foreboding. Would his career drive a total wedge between his wife and himself, destroying their marriage once and for all?
Derek Quentin-Jones put down the telephone, noting the hand shaking as it replaced the receiver clumsily in its cradle. Would this nightmare never end? He pulled open the desk drawer and drew out the bottle of pills. At least they’d stop the shakes long enough to let him concentrate on what he should do next. He hadn’t yet told Tina about the terms of her mother’s will.
Her mother, he thought bitterly, who had betrayed them both for so many years. Or had she? Had Karen been aware that Maurice Drummond had fathered their daughter? Derek slammed his fist down hard on the
