and simply styled, hanging down to her shoulders. She’d also been fairly well upholstered, not fat, I wouldn’t put it that way, but solidly built, if that’s not politically incorrect. . although it shouldn’t be, since I’d say the same about a guy.
The Alice who turned to look at me was clad in what I’m told are called distressed denim jeans and a white, knitted, sleeveless top that emphasised her tanned skin, and the slimness of her arms and shoulders. Her hair was bleached blond, cut short, probably done at home from the look of it, and gathered into spiky clumps, that I guessed were held in place by gel.
The rep stuck his chin out aggressively as he stepped up alongside her. I’d seen his sort before; confrontational by instinct. He was well into his forties, and his face was familiar to me. Mario put a name to it. ‘Sergeant Gahagan,’ he said. ‘I’m surprised to see you here.’
That helped me place him; a capable officer frustrated because his career had stalled at sergeant, and who became active in the Federation as a way of gaining a little more influence, a little more authority. There are a few like him in every professional body.
The Scottish Police Federation isn’t a union as such; indeed by definition it isn’t. It was created by statute in 1919 by the same act that banned the police from membership of trade unions, to give them an acceptable. . to the establishment of the day. . means of voicing concerns about their welfare. It looks after all ranks below super- intendent and it’s run by serving officers, elected to full-time posts. There’s a branch structure as well and within that each force chooses a full-time local representative. Gahagan is Edinburgh’s; why they picked him, given the bag of chips on his shoulder, heaven only knows.
‘Don’t know why you should be,’ he snapped. He thought his position entitled him to leave out the ‘sir’. ‘Detective Constable Cowan is entitled to Federation support, and I’m entitled to sit in on this interview, which I fully intend to do, otherwise it won’t take place.’
Inwardly, I moaned. The idiot was waving a red flag in the face of the bull that is Mario McGuire. He might have thought he was armed with the sword of justice, but it was going to be as much use to him as a strand of wet linguine, cooked just past
‘That would be the case,’ I told him, ‘if this was purely a disciplinary matter. But it isn’t. You know who I am, Sergeant?’
‘Yes, Mr Martin,’ he replied.
‘And that I’m now a senior officer in an outside agency?’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes what. . Sergeant?’ I murmured.
His body language altered, subtly; his posture became just a little defensive. ‘Yes, sir,’ he grunted. He resembled a man crossing a lively stream on stepping stones, not sure if he was going to reach the next one or take a dip.
‘The fact that I’m here, and that I’ve been asked by the chief constable to be here, should indicate to you that this isn’t an ordinary disciplinary hearing. It’s part of a wider inquiry into a crime that may have been committed and DC Cowan is a potential witness. I can understand why she asked you to be here. .’ I paused as a possibility ran itself past me. ‘You did ask Sergeant Gahagan to attend, Alice?’
‘Actually, sir,’ she replied, ‘I didn’t; he volunteered. I think it was Griff who called him.’
I’ll swear I heard a hungry growl from McGuire, beside me. ‘Do you want him to remain?’ I went on. ‘Even though he’s got no locus here, I’d be prepared to allow it, provided that he says nothing without invitation, and agrees not to reveal anything he may hear.’
‘No, sir,’ she declared firmly. ‘Since I’m going to be talking about my uncle, I’d rather he wasn’t here. That’s what I was saying to him when you came in. Besides. .’ She peered into the bag that was slung over her shoulder, then withdrew a white envelope and handed it to Mario. I looked in her eyes; they were clear and calm.
‘What’s this?’ he asked as he took it. I glanced at it and noticed that the letter ‘R’ was printed on it.
‘It’s my resignation. I reckon I should beat the system to the punch, if you’ll accept it, that is. I’ve got some pension accrued, and I’d like to keep it.’
‘I understand,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry, Alice. I’ll take this, but whether it’s accepted or not. . that’ll be the chief constable’s decision.’
‘Hold on a minute,’ Gahagan protested. ‘There’s no need for that, Constable Cowan.’
She turned on him. ‘Of course there is,’ she snapped. ‘I know it and you know it, or you would if you were halfway to being a decent cop. Now please go away.’
Gahagan picked up his briefcase from the table. ‘I won’t forget this,’ he muttered, glaring at McGuire.
‘Neither will I,’ the big guy promised. ‘You won’t always be a full-time Fed rep, Sergeant, so be very careful who you try to threaten from now on.’
Silence followed him to the door, but it didn’t end with his departure. Cowan stood, backlit by the sun streaming through the small window behind her, with her eyes on me at first, then switching to Mario, then back to me. She wasn’t quite sure who was taking the lead, and at that moment, neither were we.
McGuire ended the impasse by walking round behind her and adjusting the venetian blind to give us complete privacy. ‘Sit down, please,’ he said, drawing a chair out from the table and offering it to her.
She made herself comfortable, and he and I settled down opposite her. There was a dual deck recorder on Mario’s right, with two blank CDs still in their boxes. He unwrapped each one and loaded the machine. ‘Ready?’
‘No.’
‘What’s the problem? Would you like water, a coffee? A lawyer, even?’
She smiled, as if he’d said something funny. ‘None of the above, thanks.’ She delved into her bag once more and produced a second envelope, marked ‘S’. ‘That’s my written statement,’ she announced, pushing it across the desk and leaning forward, shoulders hunched.
‘It’s all I’m prepared to say on the record, so I thought I’d save us all some time by getting it down in advance. It says that DC Montell told me on Wednesday evening, at his flat, that he had to go out for a while. He said that he was sitting in on an operation as a substitute for DS McGurk, who had an important personal appointment. I asked him what it involved, casually, with no specific interest. He said that he and Sauce Haddock were staking out a meeting in a pub between a man called Kenny Bass, and another called Freddy Welsh. Both names were known to me. Bass had been mentioned in connection with another inquiry, about six months ago, but he wasn’t involved, so I never had cause to meet him. But I had met Welsh, socially, several times over the years, most recently at a party in my Uncle Jock’s house a year or so back. He’s a relation of my Aunt Ella, Jock’s wife.’
‘And you phoned your uncle,’ I said. I needn’t have interrupted her, but I wanted to remind her that she was in an interview situation whether she thought so or not, and to exercise a degree of control.
‘Yes, sir, I did.’
Mario stepped in. ‘Why?’
‘My written statement explains that. I had no idea that Inspector Varley would act on what I told him. I passed it on as a piece of family gossip, no more. Obviously, I’m now sorry I did it. The statement includes an apology to the team involved in the Bass operation and also to the chief constable for bringing the force into disrepute. I know that won’t save my job, but I feel it should be there.’
‘You’re right on both counts, DC Cowan,’ I told her. ‘Now, what do you want to say to us off the record?’
Still hunched forward, forearms on the desk, she looked up at me, eyes hooded. ‘What makes you think I do?’
‘I know you, Alice. And so does Mr McGuire. You’re not the sort who gossips.’
‘I did once.’
‘Yes,’ Mario snapped, ‘and Neil McIlhenney and I booted you off Special Branch as a result. You’re not stupid, so please don’t imagine that I am. I don’t buy the notion of you making the same mistake again, on the basis that it was family gossip. It was more than that last time, so come on. We’ll do this off the record for now, if you like, but we do it. Otherwise I hand you back your letter of resignation and you go down the full formal dismissal route, plus I rip up your statement, we caution you formally and I switch the recorder on.’
She sighed and sat back in her chair, running her fingers through her spiky hair. ‘Okay,’ she whispered. ‘Off the record.’
‘That’s better. So, why did you call Jock?’
