#ChooseThePlot Page 6

  ‘Don’t come any closer,’ she warned, using her very firm police inspector voice that had never been known to fail. ‘I’m going to tell you again, you need to keep well back or I will have to arrest you for obstructing a police officer.’

  ‘Arrest me? I hardly think so. I have a right to be here and you do not. You didn’t ask my permission to come in – you just walked up to the door, bold as brass, and—’

  She fell silent, staring at the floor. Ian succeeded where Serena had failed, by dint of being a lot more intimidating as a dead body than Serena could manage as a live police officer.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A dead body.’

  ‘Is that – Ian?’

  ‘It was,’ Serena said. She wouldn’t usually be quite so brutal – especially with a little old lady who had turned an alarming shade of grey and was clutching her chest, gasping. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘My – my pills.’ She gestured feebly at her pocket, which seemed to be bulging with balled-up used tissues.

  Glad of her evidence gloves, Serena reached in and rummaged among the filthy tissues for a second, coming up with a pill bottle. She shook one out onto her palm and held it out. ‘Is that enough?’

  A nod. She snatched the pill and swallowed it. Serena would have liked to guide her to a chair to sit down, but there were two problems with that. One: the flat’s sparse furnishings didn’t include a chair. Two: it was still a crime scene and she couldn’t allow the old woman to contaminate it any more than she had already. That meant the stained and horrible sofa was off limits. But she needed to keep the old woman alive until she’d told the police what she’d seen and what she’d heard.

  There was a crash in the hallway: Gilmore, falling over some of the builders’ rubble.

  ‘Ma’am?’

  ‘In here,’ Serena said. ‘Mind your step.’

  He jinked sideways as he came through the door, staring down at his feet. ‘Is that—’

  ‘Blood? Yes. Ian’s.’

  ‘Is he—’

  ‘Yes. Very.’ No point in stringing it out, Serena thought. She gave the old woman a gentle shove that sent her staggering in Gilmore’s direction. ‘Can you take her away, Paul? Take a statement from her about what she saw and heard. Get her slippers – forensics will want them. And your shoes. And mine, I suppose.’

  ‘What’s her name?’ Gilmore was holding the old woman awkwardly. She had her eyes closed and was moaning but her colour looked better.

  ‘I didn’t get that far. I was too busy threatening to arrest her.’ Serena leaned in. ‘What’s your name, Madam?’

  ‘Iona Gordon. I own this building.’

  ‘So Ian was your tenant?’

  A nod.

  ‘Did you know him well?’

  ‘He kept to himself. I saw him occasionally, but I live on the top floor. He’s the only tenant here at the moment, because of the builders.’ She gave a tiny shrug. ‘My son organises everything to do with the house. He rented the room to Ian. I just keep an eye on everything.’

  ‘Where are the builders?’ Serena asked, puzzled. ‘Shouldn’t they be working?’

  ‘A man came and sent them away.’

  ‘Did you see him?’

  ‘Only the top of his head. He was tall. Dark hair. I assumed he was their boss. He spoke to them and they ran. They left everything where they’d dropped it. Half-empty mugs of tea everywhere.’ She pulled a face. ‘The house will never be finished that way.’

  ‘Was he on foot? Did you see his car?’

  ‘It was big. Black. I didn’t see what make it was.’

  ‘That could have been the car I saw when I got here,’ Serena said, mainly to herself. The killer, clearing the house of potential witnesses before he went to lie in wait for Ian. She’d need to find the builders although she suspected they would all have instant, total amnesia the minute she mentioned the tall dark-haired man.

  ‘Do you have a number for the builders?’

  ‘I don’t speak to them. They’re foreigners. They can’t speak English at all.’

  ‘What about your son? He must be able to get in touch with them.’

  ‘Oh, yes. My son would.’ Her face softened. ‘My son knows everything. He’ll know what to do. But I’ll have to look up his number for you. He programmed it into my telephone for me. He knows I’m not good with numbers.’

  ‘Take Mrs Gordon back up to her flat and get the number,’ Serena said to Gilmore, taking out her own phone. ‘I’ll call this in and get the SOCOs here, and the pathologist. Let’s hope Doctor Flenser isn’t on call. He gives me the creeps.’

  It wasn’t a day to buy a lottery ticket, Serena found herself thinking as she got back into Gilmore’s car in her socks. Flenser had arrived, a strange little smile on his face, as if he got a special kick out of messy gunshot wounds to the head. She’d kept her distance. She knew Ian was dead, and how he’d died, and that his killer was almost certainly the same person who’d killed Mandy. Ian hadn’t flinched, unlike his wife.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Gilmore had opened the driver’s door without her noticing that he was there.

  Serena wriggled. ‘More or less.’

  He sat into the driver’s seat. ‘You look upset.’

  ‘I am.’ She sighed. ‘I couldn’t tell you this earlier, but Ian McFarland wasn’t a small-time criminal. He was an undercover police officer. He was a Red Cap in the army – military police. Then he got recruited when he came home. The conviction for fraud was window-dressing. He did the time all right. Got to know a few of the hard lads inside. Got his job at the Over Easy when he came out and there he was, up and running.’

  Gilmore stared at her, outraged. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘It was top secret. I only found out because we’d arrested Ian. His boss came down and shouted at me for ten solid minutes because he needed to get Ian back out of the cells and onto the street.’

  ‘Why was he working at the Over Easy?’

  ‘Trying to find out about Charlie Over’s illegal gambling operations, as I understand it. Over and his partner, Clive Williams, run most of the illegal bookies in this part of Glasgow. They’ve got casinos, poker games, betting shops – any way you can part an idiot from his money and make him feel as if he’s had a good time. Ian had found out about the brothels Over was running, and the people trafficking he was dabbling in.’

  ‘And Mandy?’

  Serena shrugged. ‘As far as I know it was just a coincidence that she was working for Over and Williams’ main competition. She didn’t know about her ex-husband’s new job. But Ribisi and Finnegan were all about the drugs. Over and Williams don’t touch them. Or at least, they didn’t. Ian’s job was to find out if they’d started to expand their business.’

  ‘Maybe Mandy was killed because Ribisi thought she was spying on him for Ian. Frame Ian for killing her and you kill two birds with one stone.’

  ‘Yes,’ Serena said, ‘but Ribisi is happy to kill two birds with two stones. He has enough for everyone – you and me included. So the sooner we get him locked up, the better.’

  ‘And how are we supposed to do that? He keeps having our witnesses killed.’

  ‘Something will turn up,’ Serena said, trying to sound positive. It was hard to convince Gilmore she was right when she didn’t believe a word of it herself.

  When Serena and Gilmore walked into Barloch Street police station, a beautiful young woman stood up, fidgeting with the strap of her handbag. She had dark hair, an oval face with high cheekbones, and wide-set almond-shaped eyes that looked deeply troubled.

  ‘DCI Black?’

  ‘Who wants to know?’

  ‘My name is Huynh.’ She pronounced it ‘Hwehn’ but spelt it out so Gilmore could write it down. Her English was fluent, with a pronounced Glasgow accent that gave away where she’d learned the language. ‘Huynh means “gold-coloured” in Vietnamese. No one here can say it properly so they all call me Golden. I’m a waitress at the Over Easy diner.’

  Serena didn’t know a lot about fashion, but she knew money when she saw it, and Golden reeked of it. The Chief Inspector looked from Golden’s elegant, high-heeled shoes to the designer handbag she carried, taking in the full-skirted lilac coat that hugged her tiny frame, the pristine manicure and the fat diamond that sparkled on her left hand. ‘A waitress,’ she repeated.

  ‘May I speak with you? Please?’ All of a sudden Golden’s eyes were brimming with tears. Her lower lip quivered. ‘I need help.’

  ‘Why? What’s wrong?’

  ‘This morning I found this on my doormat.’ She held it out, her hand shaking. A credit card, black and silver. ‘My limit is one million pounds, they say. All I have to do is call them. Why would they give me one million pounds?’

  ‘Did you call the number?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘And that’s why you’re still alive. Come on.’ Serena put her arm around the girl’s narrow shoulders. ‘Let’s talk.’

  The interview rooms at Barloch Street were the opposite of glamorous and Golden made them look even shabbier. She sat down at the table in the middle of the room, throwing her coat over the chair beside her, so Serena could see that the label read ‘Dior’. Underneath it she wore a fitted black dress that hugged her body as if it had been made for her, and maybe it had been.

  ‘So why do you think you got this card?’ Serena asked.

  The reply was instant. ‘Because they want to kill me.’

  ‘Who want to kill you?’

  ‘They call themselves the Elimination Bureau. They work for the Italian. Ribisi.’ She shivered. ‘They kill people for money. Lots of money. And when they’re not working for hire, they kill the people who stand in Ribisi’s way. He wants to take control of the city. Run it as his own. He’ll destroy anyone who tries to stop him.’

  ‘Like a waitress at a scruffy diner,’ Gilmore said. ‘I can see how you’d be a threat to him.’

  Golden glared. ‘It’s got nothing to do with my job. He wants me dead because Mandy McFarland trusted me.’

  At the mention of the dead woman’s name, Serena felt her nerves tighten. ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘Everything.’ Golden gave her a tiny smile. ‘It might interest you to know that the Water House was a front for Ribisi’s drug business. Mandy told me about how the drugs came in, hidden in supplies for the restaurant. Then they go out again. Ribisi has fake paparazzi who work outside the restaurant. They can come and go without anyone thinking they’re suspicious. They fill up their camera bags with drugs and distribute them across Ribisi’s network.’

  ‘So that’s how they do it.’ Serena was scribbling notes. ‘The drugs squad are going to love this. No wonder the restaurant was so popular.’

  ‘It definitely wasn’t the food,’ Golden said. ‘Mandy was in charge of making sure the customers got everything they wanted, and I do mean everything. It wasn’t the celebrities who used her services – they were just invited so the real photographers would hang around outside. It was the fat cats who want drugs without risking arrest. Cocaine, mainly, and illegal pharmaceuticals, and girls or boys, no questions asked.’

  ‘Young girls and boys?’ Nothing much shocked Serena but she liked to know exactly how many offences her targets had committed.

  Golden shook her head. ‘Mandy wouldn’t. She thought it was wrong. But she found people who looked younger than they were. The business motto was “Never say no”. The customer was always right.’

  ‘What else?’ Serena asked.

  ‘Mandy told me about the Elimination Bureau. She told me Ribisi propositioned her behind Jake Finnegan’s back and she was too scared to say no. She told me she’d found out too much about the organisation to feel safe anymore. She couldn’t leave and she knew it was too dangerous to stay. Either way, Mandy knew she was going to die. She just didn’t know when, or how. And all she wanted was to make sure Ribisi didn’t get away with it.’

  ‘So why did she trust you with this information? Why didn’t she come to the police?’

  ‘She was dealing drugs. She was scared she would get in trouble. And she knew they would kill her as soon as she spoke to anyone about it. With me, it was just gossip while we had our nails done.’ Golden fanned out her hands in her lap and stared down at her manicure: glossy navy blue with silver tips. ‘I’m a good listener and I asked the right questions.’

  ‘But why were you interested? And why are you working as a waitress when you’re obviously rich?’

  ‘It was part of my plan. I came to this country to find the people who murdered my brother,’ Golden said softly.

  ‘What happened to him?’ Serena asked.

  ‘He got addicted to heroin and he died.’

  Serena didn’t move in her chair but Gilmore flashed a look in her direction, thinking of her son. He needn’t have worried. Serena Black was far too wary to lose her objectivity just because she empathised with the woman in front of her.

  ‘How did he die?’

  ‘It looked like an overdose.’ Golden blinked away the tears. ‘I heard the truth. He was killed because he made a joke about Ribisi, and Ribisi found out. He can’t stand anyone laughing at him. When I heard my brother was dead, I made a plan. I had a friend here whose boyfriend is a big gangster, Clive Williams. He hates Ribisi as much as I do. He helped me to get a job at the diner. It was a good place to work. I found out things there, useful things. People don’t notice waitresses. People don’t think we’re listening. But we hear everything.’

  ‘Of course.’ Gilmore snapped his fingers. ‘Williams is the owner of the Over Easy Diner.’

  ‘Co-owner.’ Golden smiled. ‘The other owner is Charlie Over. He married me last year. That’s why I’m able to dress like this. He likes me to look nice when I’m not working in the diner.’

  Gilmore whistled. ‘He did well.’

  ‘So did I. He looks after me. He’s a good man.’ She leaned across the table. ‘But so is Ian. It was through him that I got close to Mandy. She was still in love with him, you know. She regretted leaving him. She wanted to know everything I could tell her about Ian – how he looked, if he had a girlfriend, if he still hated her. But then Mandy died, and Ian got the blame.’

  ‘We know he wasn’t involved,’ Serena said.

  ‘Do you know where Ian is?’ Golden twisted her hands together. ‘I heard something. I heard Ribisi was planning to make use of him. And I heard Ian was looking for me. So either he’s working for Ribisi and he wants to kill me, or he was trying to help me or—’

  ‘He said no and Ribisi had him killed,’ Serena finished as Golden trailed off into silence.

  ‘Yes, maybe.’

  ‘Almost certainly. We’ve just come from the crime scene.’

  It took Golden a moment to take it in. Her eyes widened. ‘Ian’s dead?’

  ‘Someone shot him.’

  ‘No!’ Golden stood up, her hands shaking. She looked around the room desperately, then picked up her bag. ‘I have to go. I can’t stay here. I need to see my husband.’

  ‘That won’t be possible for a little while.’

  The voice came from behind Serena, who whipped round, ready to bark at whoever was interrupting her interview. Instead she found herself closing her mouth meekly. The man in the doorway made even her uncomfortable. The last time she’d met him, he’d been giving her the bollocking to end all bollockings because she’d arrested a key undercover officer, Ian McFarland. Serena wasn’t all that keen to repeat the experience.

  ‘I’m Oliver Webb.’ He was thin and grey-haired, with a close-clipped beard and cold blue eyes. ‘Superintendent Webb.’

  The effect he had on Golden was striking. She was pale, with a sheen of sweat across her cheekbones. Serena wondered if she was going to be sick.

  ‘I have to leave,’ Golden said, her voice cracking. ‘You can’t keep me here.’

  ‘It’s for your own good.’ He smiled without any warmth. ‘It’s lucky you came to us when you did. We can help you.’

  ‘How can you do that? Mandy is dead, and Ian is dead. I’m next on the list. They sent me the card.’

  ‘So I gather.’ Webb leaned between Gilmore and Serena to pick up the card. ‘Has anyone tried phoning the number?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Serena said. ‘I thought it was more important to interview this lady and find out what she knew before we started making phone calls.’

  Webb didn’t say anything for a second. He tapped the card on the table, very deliberately. ‘Maybe now would be a good time for you to make your phone call. Both of you. I’ll look after Miss—’

  ‘You can call me Mrs Over,’ Golden said. Serena reminded herself that the girl was, after all, married to one of the top criminals in the greater Glasgow area. She could afford to be haughty now and then. But it was bravado, and everyone in the room knew it. Golden turned to Serena. ‘Please, don’t leave me.’

  ‘I…’ At a loss, Serena looked at the senior officer who shook his head, very slightly. ‘I can’t stay, I’m afraid, But I can leave you DS Gilmore for company.’

  Webb’s face tightened. ‘There’s no need. I’ll be here.’

  ‘Come on.’ Gilmore nudged his boss as he shuffled his papers together noisily. He leaned over to her and murmured, ‘We’re not wanted. Come back once you’ve done what he told you.’

  It was good advice. Serena Black hated taking it. She stood up and nodded encouragingly to the girl.

  ‘I’ll be seeing you in a minute or two. Can I get you a tea? Coffee?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Golden sat down again, as if her legs wouldn’t support her weight anymore. ‘I don’t want anything except to go home.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ DCI Black narrowed her eyes at the Superintendent before she left the room. You may be senior to me, but you spend your time running undercover officers – you know all about staying just on the right side of the law and I bet you go over the line when it suits you. This is my investigation. Bend the rules with Golden and I’ll break you.