space in the bonded warehouse; we agreed, and later he told us that a deal had been done. He needed the signature of one trustee.
Beppe said he would do it, and that was that.
'Later, I heard from Stan that there was some difficulty with them, but he said they were dealing with it, and that I shouldn't bother.'
He sighed, partly out of relief that his mother had taken no part in the family's business with the elusive importers. All afternoon, since Greg Jay's second call, he had felt a growing unease, a detective's sense that something was very wrong with the firm of Essary and Frances.
'Okay, Mum,' he said. 'I'm waiting for Stan to cal me when he gets in. I'l get chapter and verse from him, I'm sure.'
'Yes, I'm sure you wil; Stan's very efficient. What's the fuss about anyway?'
'Nothing, really. I'm just doing a favour for Greg Jay.'
'Why? Is he interested in these people? Does he think they might have been involved in your uncle's murder?'
'Nah. He just wants to eliminate them from his enquiries, that's al.'
Christina McGuire snorted down the phone. 'Mario! This is your mother you're talking to, not the crime reporter from the Evening News. Don't give me any of your official police language. Are these people suspects or not?'
He laughed, reproved. 'No, not exactly. Beppe had a dispute with them over the tenancy; that's al. Greg needs to check them out, but he can't find them.'
'I see. You might have said that in the first place. Your col eague must be scraping the barrel; that's al I can say. Who's going to resort to murder over a few feet of warehouse space?'
'You're absolutely right. It has to be done, though, Mum.'
'If you say so. Just make sure it doesn't distract your friend from 228 pursuing the real criminal; Sophia and Viola are at their wits' end.'
That's not very far, Mario thought, but he knew better than to say it.
'We'l catch him, don't you worry.'
'Hmm. Now you're talking like a policeman again. Good night, darling.'
'Night, Mum.' He cradled the phone and checked his watch; it was pushing nine, yet Maggie still was not home. She had called him to say that she would be delayed, and that she would bring in a takeaway. He was hungry enough to eat a bear, but there was stil no sign of his wife, or of the chicken Madras, or the naan bread.
The phone rang. 'Stan's late back too,' he muttered, thinking it would be his cousin's husband. But he was wrong.
'Is Detective Superintendent Rose in?' a man asked.
'No, but I'm a detective super as well. Will I do?'
'I suppose so, sir,' the voice was smooth, confident, with a hint of a laugh in there. 'This is DI David Mackenzie, N Division, Strathclyde Police. Ms Rose cal ed me this afternoon, and asked me to make some enquiries about a priest off my patch who's turned up dead on hers. She said I should cal her whenever I'd something to report.'
Mario had heard of Bandit Mackenzie, from Maggie. 'Flash' was how she had described him, but beneath that too-self-assured exterior, she had also said, there lurked one very good detective. And that was not her view alone; Bob Skinner seemed to rate the guy, too.
'Fine. Do you want to tell me, or leave a number for her to call you?'
'You'l do, sir. It's my wife's birthday today, and I'm in bother as it is.
Would you tel her that I've spoken to Father Green's curate. Father Tomkinson; I put him in the confessional, so to speak. I didn't tell him his boss was dead, but I did lean on him a bit, and he was a bit more forthcoming than in his first interview. He admitted to me that the late father wasn't exactly celibate. He liked the ladies, and he liked them youngish and attractive. Naturally, he was discreet about it; he never fished in his own river, so to speak. He used to go cast his line through in Edinburgh; whenever he went off to visit his sister, that's where he was real y going.'
'How did the curate know this?'
'Father Green told him. Whether it was in formal confession, or a casual conversation, I don't know; I didn't ask and the lad didn't say.
Green said that he used to go down the pubs in the Royal Mile in his dog collar. Never failed, he claimed; his experience was that there's any number of women out there who'll jump at the chance to shag a priest.
It's an interesting thought that, eh, sir? Any time you fancy an il icit leg over, all you need to do is put on a dog col ar.'
'I'll bear it in mind. Inspector. I'l give your message to my wife.
You'd better hurry off home to yours; I just hope you don't find her dressing up like a nun when you get there.'
Mackenzie laughed. 'Nice one, sir. I'll be in a bit late tomorrow, if Ms Rose wants to talk to me about what the curate said.'
'Did he mention any specific pubs?'
'No. But now you mention it, he said the busy pubs; yes, he did say that, the busy ones.'
'Thanks; that cuts a few out. Good night, Inspector.'
He hung up, then made a brief note of Mackenzie's information on a pad beside the phone. He had barely finished when it rang again; this time it was Stan Coia on the line. Mario told his cousin's husband, briefly, about Greg Jay's problem. 'Murder investigations are about talking to people and knocking them off one by one as potential suspects.
That's al Greg wants to do with Essary and Frances, but we can't find either of them. There's no answer at their registered address, and no trace anywhere else. Have you got a contact for them?'
'I've got the address on the lease, but I don't remember having any other details.'
'I can guess what the address is. How did you set the tenancy up? Can you remember?'
'Ella Frances phoned me; she said that she and her partner were starting an import business, and they needed to show Customs and Excise that they had the facility to bond stock in the UK. She asked if we rented out space; I said yes we did, she asked how much per square metre, I told her and she said 'Fine', and asked to lease some for a year, with an option for a further twelve months.
'I sent her a standard draft agreement, and told her we'd want payment in advance.
'She called me back a couple of days later; I said that I'd draw up the official document, and fixed a date for us to meet them to sign it. I insisted that both of them had to sign it, in person, on the premises. She huffed a bit, but eventual y they met Beppe at the warehouse; they did the business there and they paid up.'
'So you've got bank details?'
'Cash, Mario. They paid in cash. I remember Beppe bringing this wadge of money back to my office, and asking me to bank it in the property account.'
'When did al this happen?'
'Last September.'
'And when did Beppe write to them about terminating the lease?'
'A couple of weeks ago.'
'Mmm.'
He stood with the phone in his hand, aware vaguely of the living-room door opening. 'Is this significant, Mario?' asked Coia. 'Could those two have been behind Beppe's murder?'
'I can't say yes, Stan,' he answered, 'and I can't say no. Al I can tell you is that Greg Jay and I want very much indeed to speak to Mr Magnus Essary, and his partner.'
From behind him, there came a crash as a chicken Madras takeaway, still in its carrier bag, hit the floor.
'What did you say?'
He turned and surveyed the scene, incredulous. 'Is that our dinner on the floor?' he asked, irrelevantly.
'Never mind that. What did you say there? What was that name you used?'
