“Listen, I’m sorry about the daddy issues joke I made earlier.” Fletcher rubbed at the short hairs of her undercut and grimaced sheepishly. “Dunnel mentioned how your dad left. I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not sure I like the term ‘daddy issues,’ but I’ve definitely got… stuff wrapped up in it. You know, MacGowan had a chance to be there for his son, but he chose thieving instead.” I shrugged awkwardly. “Makes me wonder what my dad chose instead of us.”
Fletcher snagged a nearby empty chair and pulled it close, so we were on the same level.
“I spoke to him the night before he left. You think he would have said… something.” I trailed off. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter right now. We’ve got a case to solve.” Two cases, actually, though they were quickly blending into one. We needed to get to Haruto at some point and tell him what we learned. Maybe if we could cut off the head of the snake, we could solve both problems, but I wasn’t optimistic.
As I finished speaking, Smith stepped out of the interrogation room, looked around for us, and motioned for us to return. Her face was serious. Fletcher and I stood up as one and hurried to rejoin her and O’Connell. I got the mounting sense that this was it. This was our make it or break it moment.
We sat back down across from O’Connell and Smith. O’Connell looked like we’d asked him to kick a dog. He folded his arms and refused to acknowledge us, and there was an angry cast to his shoulders.
“Mr O’Connell does not want to give up his employer, nor does he have to,” Smith began, and I almost leapt to my feet and started yelling, but I sensed Fletcher’s hand on the back of my hair and forced myself to remain calm.
“And why’s that?” I asked as calmly as I could.
“Why, police brutality, of course,” she replied and looked right at me.
“I shot him in self-defence,” I said. “He was attacking my partner and myself.”
I did not like the smile Smith gave me. It was like ice falling off a roof to strike a passerby in the head. “Perhaps. But he wasn’t attacking you when you ground your thumb into the wound you gave him, was he? Were you instead trying to coerce a confession?”
Shit. I really screwed up with that one.
“What about Finn Wair?” I demanded.
“My client didn’t kidnap anyone,” Smith said simply. Her professional mask slipped for a second, and I saw beneath it to her person. “I am sorry we couldn’t help you. Truly. Please believe me when I say that if my client knew anything about the child’s location, I would urge him to tell you, but he assures me he doesn’t. I hope you find him.” She sounded sincere, remorseful, even, that she wasn’t able to help. O’Connell, on the other hand… With Smith’s back to him, he had a small, knowing smirk on his face and a hard glint in his eyes.
“Fine,” I snapped a bit more forcefully than I intended to. “Just know that once we prove your client’s involvement, we’ll come after him hard.
“Understood. Best of luck, DCI MacBain.” She held out her hand for me to shake, and I did so, giving her a nod of farewell. I didn’t begrudge her for doing her job.
Then Fletcher and I left her to confer a while longer with her client and retreated to my desk empty-handed. Fletcher swore and kicked at a nearby chair, knocking it over with a crash that made the entire station pause what it was doing and look over at her. She turned red and quickly righted it, plopping into its seat with a huff.
“Well, what now?” she asked.
I was at a loss. It felt like we had the pieces but not the strings to connect them with. Our time was ticking away, flowing through our fingers like golden sand. “I don’t know,” I said. “I just don’t know.”
I sat down. We could stake out Haruto and hope his stalkers showed back up so we could get them to lead us to Finn and their leader, but they no doubt knew we were onto them and would have called their surveillance off. We could try to bargain with them. We had the deed to the Castle of Old Wick as well as Haruto’s manuscript, after all, but I had no idea who we would even make the offer to. Finn was counting on me, and I was letting him down.
Dunnel walked up to us, straightening the hem of his jacket, and I sighed as I looked up at him. “I hope you have good news for us,” I said.
“Maybe,” he replied, though I couldn’t bring myself to sit up a little straighter in my chair. No doubt he would just have another dead end for us to chase down. “I couldn’t get a hold of Councilor Rickerman himself. He retired and sequestered himself after whatever it was that went down between him and O’Connell.”
“Great,” I groaned.
“But.” Dunnel held up a finger to forestall my descent into hopelessness. “When I threatened his former assistant with obstruction of justice, she gave up his current address. It’s just outside of town.”
I perked up. “If we leaned on him, maybe we could get him to give these people up.” If he didn’t know something substantial, he wouldn’t have tried to disappear so thoroughly.
“My thoughts exactly,” Dunnel said. He didn’t smile, but he definitely seemed pleased with himself.
I stood swiftly and started gathering my things. “Up for one more interview, Fletcher?” I asked.
She grinned fiercely. “You know I am.”
That was what I liked to hear.
Eighteen
It was nearing dinner time when Fletcher and I reached Rickerman’s house just a couple of kilometres outside of Inverness. It was a modest estate, considering his position as a former politician. A paved drive led us past
