‘I see. So you put on your coat, and left the office?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why did you do that?’
‘Why, sir?’ he chuckled. ‘To go and meet Alice, of course.’
He was trying to wind me up, as he had Mario. ‘Sorry, Inspector. Why did you put on your overcoat? Do you know what I was doing on Wednesday evening, around the time you left the station? I was sat out on my balcony, looking down at the Water of Leith, with a beer in my hand. I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, and I was killing midges by the dozen. It was a warm, muggy evening, and you’re telling us that you put your uniform coat on to go out and meet a family member? Enlighten us, please. Why would you do something so strange?’
He shrugged, and smirked at me. ‘I didn’t want to be seen in uniform.’
‘Meeting your niece, and her a cop as well?’
‘Yes, sir. It might seem strange but that’s what I did; you know it, you’ve probably seen the CCTV.’
‘Sure, it’s the “Why” I’m still struggling with. Let’s go back to DC Cowan’s call. Did she say why she wanted to meet you?’
‘No.’
‘Did you ask her why?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Why should I have?’
‘Because you were on duty,’ I suggested. ‘In charge of the station. Come on, man; your niece calls and you walk off the job just like that?’
He spread his hands. ‘Point taken, sir. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.’
‘Not accepted,’ I snapped. He was beginning to rile me too. ‘However, that’s probably a matter for a different inquiry. So, you put on your overcoat and stepped out into a warm steamy evening, to meet Alice. Who got there first?’
For the first time, Varley hesitated for a second before replying. ‘I think I did,’ he offered.
‘You think?’ I repeated. ‘Come on, man; this was less than forty-eight hours ago.’ I leaned forward, hustling him.
‘Okay, okay, I was first, definitely.’
‘How did she arrive? Was she on foot? Did she get off a bus?’
‘Taxi. She got out of a taxi.’
‘How was she dressed?’ I fired the question at him.
‘In civvies.’
‘Don’t be evasive, Mr Varley. What was she wearing?’
‘Jeans and a blouse,’ he retorted.
‘So, she hadn’t got dressed up to meet you. Did she seem in a rush?’
‘Yes, I suppose she did.’
‘Make-up, was she wearing make-up?’
He shrugged. ‘You can’t always be sure with Alice.’
‘Come on, Inspector, you must know. We’ve just seen her. She’s got this big bleb on her nose just here.’ I touched mine, on the right side. ‘Was it covered up or not?’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘No it wasn’t.’
Beside me, McGuire didn’t move a muscle. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘We’re making progress. So there you are on the street, the pair of you, she with a bleb on her nose, you sweating like a pig in your uniform coat. That’s the scene, is it?’
He nodded. ‘That’s the scene.’
‘Who began the discussion?’
He frowned. ‘I did, as I recall. I said, “What’s the panic, Alice?” or something like that.’
‘And she said?’
‘Her reply was “Freddy’s in trouble”. Naturally I asked her “Freddy who?” and she replied that she meant Freddy Welsh, Ella’s cousin.’
‘And your good friend.’
He stared at me. ‘I wouldn’t say that, Mr Martin. He’s more a friend of Alice.’
I let my eyebrows rise. ‘Is he? Why do you say that? He’s a cousin of your wife and your relationship with Alice is on your side of the family, not by marriage. So why should he be more friendly with her than with you?’
Varley winced, as if it was paining him to go on. ‘This is where I get into really deep water,’ he murmured. ‘Alice and Freddy, they’ve. .’ He let his voice tail off.
‘They’ve a what? Spell it out, man.’
‘A relationship, sir.’
‘Do you mean a sexual relationship?’
‘Exactly.’
‘How long has it been going on?’
‘For six years that I know of.’
I leaned closer, pressing him. ‘How do you know about it?’
‘I saw them, at a wedding,’ he replied. ‘They’d been dancing, and I saw them go outside. I followed them. They got into the back of Freddy’s car and he gave her one.’
I frowned. ‘That’s pretty specific; you’re sure they had sex?’
‘Her legs were practically round his neck, and his arse was going like a fiddler’s elbow; I was close enough to see. What would you call it?’
I looked at him, letting my face register disgust. ‘You spied on them?’ I gasped, contemptuously.
‘She’s my niece,’ he blustered. ‘I was worried about her.’
‘Wow!’ I exclaimed. ‘Six years ago, Alice was well into her twenties, Inspector. Her sex life was entirely her own business. Did you get a kick out of it? Did you masturbate?’
He stiffened. ‘Fuck off!’ he yelled.
‘So what did you do?’ Mario asked him, rejoining the interview. ‘Did you give them marks out of ten, or did you express your concern to Alice later?’
‘No. I did speak to Freddy, though. I told him he was out of order.’
‘How did he take that?’
‘He said much the same as Mr Martin, that she was a big girl. I never mentioned it again.’
I waited for a little before I picked up the questioning again. ‘Let’s go back to your street corner meeting and to Alice telling you that Freddy Welsh was in trouble. Elaborate.’
‘She said that her boyfriend, Montell, had mentioned his name in connection with a job he’d been pulled into, close observation in a pub up in Slateford. And then,’ another pause, ‘and then she asked me if I’d call him and warn him.’
‘Which you did.’
‘No!’ We’d arrived at the point to which Mario and I had known we were heading. We’d even warned Alice about it, but neither of us had really believed in the possibility. ‘No, I did not,’ he declared, solemnly. ‘I refused point blank. I reminded her that she was a police officer and told her to behave responsibly. Then I left and went back to the station. I was pretty angry with her, as you can imagine.’
‘No, Jock,’ McGuire said, shaking his head. ‘I can’t imagine that at all. What I can imagine is you thanking her, when she phoned you to tip you off that a relation of your wife was in the spotlight. Then I can picture you digging out the phone book to find the Lafayette’s number, and going out to phone it from the call box up the road.’
‘No, sir,’ he replied, quietly, looking at the table.
‘Your prints are on the handset, man,’ he pointed out.
‘I’ve used it,’ Varley conceded. ‘I admit that. I don’t like calling in bets from the office, so when I have a flutter I use the phone box to ring my bookie.’
‘The bar person,’ he fired back, ‘who took the call in Lafayette’s, told DC Haddock that it was a male voice.’
‘Oh yes?’ the inspector challenged. ‘You know Alice, DCS McGuire, so you must realise that she has a deep
