‘Here, he isn’t on anyone’s informant list, is he?’
‘Bella Watson’s son? No way. No, Fred, when he was just running for Manson we… the drugs squad, I mean… had him in often enough. If he’d been a grass, I’d have been warned. Mind you… have a word with the Scottish Crime Squad crew, in case they were cultivating him.’
‘Without telling us?’
‘Roles reversed I wouldn’t tell them,’ I pointed out, ‘unless they needed to know. Yes, do that, but we won’t hold our breath for a response. No, first priority is finding Tony Manson. Did you check his house?’
‘Yes, I sent a car out there. It’s locked up, and the phone’s on auto answer.’
‘How did you get on with that wee shit of a lawyer?’
‘He stonewalled us.’ Leggat sighed. ‘Said he doesn’t know where his client is, or how to get in touch with him.’
‘Did you believe him?’
‘The first might be true, the second won’t be.’
I turned to McGuire. I couldn’t help but admire his suit; pale blue mohair. ‘Mario, cameras?’
‘They have tapes for us, boss. They’ve promised them by this afternoon.’
‘Fine. Chase them up if they’re not here in half an hour. When they arrive, review them; you know what you’re looking for.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And one other thing. The suit; when I said you could lose the uniform I didn’t mean you to replace it with Savile Row. This is CID. We do unobtrusive here.’
The big guy looked crestfallen. ‘Sorry, boss.’
I smiled. ‘That’s okay. It might come in handy if you ever go undercover in the New Club. Who’s your tailor, by the way?’
‘A friend of my cousin Paula’s,’ he said, morale restored. ‘She gets me a deal.’
‘Mmm,’ I murmured. ‘Maybe she could get me one too.’
‘I’ll ask her.’ Then he frowned. ‘One other thing, sir. DCS Stein asked if you’d go and see him.’
‘Urgent?’
‘He didn’t say so.’
Whatever, a summons from the head of CID wasn’t something to be pushed to one side. I had a small private office at the far end of the suite. I headed for it, and asked Leggat to come with me. I’d been shown it the day before. My predecessor, Jock Davey, had taken early retirement on health grounds, and a couple of his possessions were still on the desk, a calculator, and a heavy glass paperweight. I put them on the window sill and eased myself into the well-worn chair; Leggat took one of the visitor seats.
‘Fred,’ I began, ‘before I go and see the boss, there are a couple of things we need to discuss. First, the media haven’t happened upon this yet, not for what it is. Someone from the UNS news agency called St Leonards last night asking about activity in Infirmary Street and the desk sergeant told him it was a break-in, for at the time that’s all he thought it was. But we have to come clean now. I’d like you to have the press office put out a statement telling the media that we’re investigating the death of Marlon Watson… you can name him… and treating it as murder. No more detail than that, though. You should add on the usual appeal for witnesses. Anyone who saw Watson on Tuesday, or who saw anything unusual in the Infirmary Street area around midnight that night.’
The DI nodded. ‘I’ve got it drafted already, sir.’
‘I thought you might have. By the way, in this wee room, it’s Bob. That’s item one. Next, what’s your view on our two DCs?’
‘Macken and Reid? Not my choice, either of them; they don’t know what initiative is. They were old cronies of DCI Davey; he brought them with him when he took over here.’
‘Right. They’ll be replaced. I don’t plan to piss off Roy Old by emptying the drugs squad, but there’s a DC there I want to bring in. His name’s Brian Mackie. He’s only a couple of years older than McGuire and Martin, but he’s cool under pressure, plus he’s firearms trained. I want to set up surveillance on Bella Watson. I’m going to put him on that, him and one other new boy.’
Leggat was surprised. ‘Surveillance on the mother?’
‘Yeah, for two reasons. I’m pretty certain that she’s servicing Tony Manson, but I don’t know how close they are. I’m also sure that the guys who killed Marlon didn’t just do it for fun or revenge. They were trying to get information out of him. If his mother knows what he knew…’
‘It makes her a potential target.’
‘Precisely. But there’s more than that; if she’s in the loop, it’s possible she has an idea who did for her boy. If so, they’re in trouble themselves. Bella’s tougher than any of her family were, and probably more dangerous.’
‘I see,’ he murmured, thoughtfully. ‘Who have you got in mind for the second bod on surveillance?’
‘Nobody. You got any ideas? Bear in mind that when the operation’s over, Macken and Reid will be out and they’ll stay.’
He leaned back in his chair. ‘Male or female? There’s that lass in DCS Stein’s office. I rate her, if he’d let us have her.’
‘Mmm. We’re not supposed to be sexist, Fred, but where Bella lives a woman would be very obvious. We can fit her in, possibly, in the future, but for this job, a guy.’
‘Age?’
‘Don’t care.’
‘In that case,’ he began, ‘there’s a young lad called Steele, DC Steven Steele. We were looking closely at Jackie Charles a couple of months ago, after an armed robbery, and I borrowed him from Leith. I saw a lot in him. Charismatic’s not a word I chuck around, but it applied to him.’
I had to laugh. ‘In that case he’ll blend in well with Mackie. Big Brian’s had a charisma bypass.’ I rose. ‘I’d better go see the boss, since he’s asked. I’ll fix those transfers with him.’
I left the suite and went down one floor, to the lair of the head of CID. His exec… her name was Shannon, DC Dorothy Shannon… was behind his desk in the outer office. DCS Stein and I both liked to work with junior officers who were young enough not to have found a comfort zone. She looked up as I entered. ‘Afternoon, sir,’ she said, briskly.
‘And you, Dottie, and you. Is he in?’
‘Yes, sir. He’s expecting you.’
He was standing by his coffee machine when I opened the door. He’d heard me, for there were two mugs beside it and he was filling them from the pot that stood there, ever ready. When he retired, he gave the contraption to me. To this day, I drink too much coffee and it’s down to Alf.
‘I hear you’ve had a baptism,’ he murmured as he handed me a brimming mug, emblazoned with the image of his namesake, the late great football manager.
‘Yes indeed,’ I agreed. ‘I had to take up the reins early,’ I felt myself scowl, ‘or rather I had them thrust into my hands.’
‘I heard that too. You shouldn’t be so rough on Greg.’
‘Greg’s a bam-pot,’ I growled. Stein shared my west of Scotland origins; he knew what the word meant.
In fact he knew better than I did. ‘No, son,’ he chuckled, ‘he’s a bam-stick. A bam-stick is used for stirring a bam-pot, and that’s what makes him useful.’
‘Either way, he’s shit.’
He looked at me sharply. ‘Bob, you listen to me. The one thing that will hold you back in the job is letting personal feelings screw up your judgement. I don’t like the man any more than you do. Indeed I know things about him that you don’t, things I could use to bounce him off the force tomorrow. I’m not saying that he takes backhanders. Hell no, he dislikes criminals even more than he dislikes you, but he’s got other faults. I keep him, though, because he’s actually a better detective than he’s given credit for. Of all the divisional CID commanders, he’s got the best clear-up rate.’
‘I gather you’ve had a call from him.’
‘No, I’ve had a visit. He complained about you walking into his crime scene and kicking him off his own
