vessel.
‘Like you? Like you? Mr Winter, you have not the merest comprehension of what I like or dislike but I can assure you that my personal feelings have no bearing whatsoever on my judgement of a person’s professional ability. None whatsoever. Like you? It would not occur to me to either like or dislike you. I dislike what you do and the way that you do it but do not dare to think that impinges on my professional assessment.’
‘Okay.’
‘What?’
‘I said okay. I accept what you say.’
The vein in Baxter’s head pulsed even stronger.
‘I… I… This is not acceptable. Not acceptable at all. We are the dog and you are the tail and I shall not allow the tail to wag this dog. We are the dog. You…’ he pointed a finger at Winter, ‘you are the bloody tail. Get on with your work.’
As Baxter turned and left, muttering under his breath, Winter flicked a V at his retreating bulk and took one last picture of the scene, knowing while he did so that it was a bad idea but doing it anyway. McConachie was standing over Haddow, a snarl of disgust under her nose as she cast a shadow over the accountant’s bloodied body. He couldn’t resist it.
She threw up her head, staring at him, but the look of disgust didn’t disappear; instead her eyes narrowed and Winter became the object of her scorn. He was no one’s flavour of the month. Still, McConachie seemed much madder at Addison than at him and she was even madder at the corpses on the ground than she was at the DI. She glowered over them, seemingly resisting the urge to boot them as they lay there.
‘What the fuck is up with that crazy bitch?’ asked Addison, now standing at his shoulder. ‘Does she not know they are already dead? She looks like she wants to kill them again.’
Winter didn’t feel much like speaking up for the angry DS but the decision was taken away from him when Addison’s mobile rang the Top Cat ringtone. He turned away from the photographer as he took the call. He was nodding and talking and nodding some more. What Winter could hear of his tone of voice meant it was no time for messing around. Alex Shirley was all business.
‘Shirley,’ Addison announced to the team as he hung up. ‘He’s just finished up with Ally Riddle, pulled him in first thing. It’s why he’s not here. Wasn’t exactly best pleased at the news that there’s two more of them. He’s got steam coming out his ears. Says another of Riddle’s team hasn’t been seen for two days. Reckons one of the opposition has been balancing up the numbers and he’s probably under a flyover somewhere.’
‘What’s Riddle saying?’ Monteith asked.
‘Seems he’s playing it very cool. A smart cookie according to the Temple. He’s being cooperative enough but giving nothing away. That’s assuming he has something to give away.’
With that, Addison shooed both the detectives and the forensics in towards the bodies, walking to the side where Winter joined him.
‘And you think he has something to give away?’ Winter asked him.
‘Who knows? Could be that he and the Temple have come to an understanding. It happens.’
‘Like what? Shirley turns a blind eye to Riddle putting his feet under Quinn’s desk in return for info?’
Addison gave him an odd look.
‘Let’s just say he’s helping with our enquiries.’
‘What? I’m getting the stock media answer now? I’m in the same boat as the twats from the tabloids?’
‘For now anyway.’
‘Thanks for nothing. There’s no “I” in team Addy and there’s no “Fuck U” in it either.’
‘Oh calm down for fucksake. You know the score.’
‘Doesn’t mean I like it.’
‘Christ, here we go again. Get over it.’
If Winter had been in any doubt then that made his mind up for him. Whatever it was he knew about the marks on Rory McCabe and Stevie Strathie was staying with him. He was Addison’s mate and he reckoned that should have been reason enough for the DI to let him in. If he wasn’t going to then neither was Winter. Of course, he knew that he was telling himself a steaming pile of shite but he didn’t give a toss.
Addison must have bored of messing with him because he’d turned his fire on McConachie instead. She was still scowling at the two bodies and shaking her head.
‘DS McConachie, any chance you could get your finger out your arse and join in this investigation. There’s a hundred witnesses in those flats need interviewing.’
She nodded slowly, her eyes never off Adamson and Haddow.
‘I’ll talk to them, sir. I’m just wondering if it will be a terrible thing if they haven’t seen anything.’
Addison spat on the ground.
‘What, you buying into this “Dark Angel anti-hero” shite? I thought you had more sense.’
‘No, course I’m not. But…’
‘But what?’
‘But maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world that these two scumbags have been taken out. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Is that right? Well what I’m saying is that I need a fucking breakthrough on this or the Temple is going to burst my baws. This fucker is taking the piss big time and he’s not getting away with that on my watch so I want everything you’ve got whether you like it or not. We’re the law round here, not some nutter with a rifle. Remember that, DS McConachie.’
The sergeant was stung and desperate to come back with something but she gnawed on her tongue and let her eyes blaze instead, settling for a stone-cold, ‘Yes, sir’ as an answer.
He was glaring at her and daring her to disrespect him. Addison would take plenty of banter at the right time and place but clearly this wasn’t it. He wanted answers, not arguments.
Part of Winter was still bursting to tell him about the link, but he knew he wasn’t going to. He was going home to look at photographs again instead.
CHAPTER 23
‘Who is fucking doing this?’ he raged. ‘Who is fucking doing this to me?’
McConachie thought she could hear self-pity in the voice on the other end of the phone. It was beneath the fury and hidden behind the thunder but it was there. Self-pity wrapped up in fear. The Dark Angel, whoever he was, was getting closer and Terry Gilmartin was bricking himself.
That was bad news for Jan and she knew it. If Gilmartin was scared then he’d also be desperate and that put Amy at risk. There wasn’t a single day that she didn’t regret taking his money but few times that she’d regretted it more than right then. It had seemed so simple at first that she’d ignored just how wrong it was.
Amy had needed that tutor, she’d convinced herself of that and her class teacher had agreed. It wasn’t that she wasn’t bright, that was the thing – it was that she wasn’t fulfilling her potential. It had been Jan’s fault that her daughter had been badly affected by the break-up with Amy’s dad. Her school work suffered as a result and she needed the tutor to catch up and be all that she could be.
She’d always told herself that if she hadn’t needed that money right then she’d have told Gilmartin where to go. But he’d somehow sensed her desperation or her weakness. All he wanted was some information, an advance warning of impending trouble. Once the tutor was paid for then she’d get back on the straight path, he could look out for himself and no one would be any the wiser. How could she have been so stupid to think it could ever be that simple?
He had his claws into her and he’d never let go. When she’d sent one of his heavies back to him with the cash still in his pocket then Gilmartin turned the screw. Jan picked up Amy after school to find her beaming all over her face, happily showing off a new pair of trainers that her mum had never seen before. It turned out that a friend of Mummy’s had got there before she did and given her the present, trainers that fitted perfectly. He’d told Amy that he could bring her presents any time because he knew where she lived. Amy was much happier at that prospect than her mummy was.
