Their Final Act Read online

  In McKay's case, that might well be true, Horton reflected. But it wasn't how she'd seen her own career going. 'Hamilton's handled it smartly though, hasn't she? The not proven verdict indicates that there were doubts about her innocence, but that'll all be forgotten in the wake of the newspaper campaign. And the media are always looking for sticks to beat Police Scotland.'

  'We usually manage to provide them with plenty of ammunition without the need to make stuff up,' McKay said. 'Forget it, Gin. This stuff will blow over and the wolves will move on to tear apart some other poor bastard. It's how it goes.'

  'Except the McGuire killing's going to keep the spotlight on us that bit longer.'

  'Aye, there is that. We need a result quickly. So let's hope there's something personal behind this we can pin down, rather than just some lunatic picking off random passing stand-up comics.'

  Horton nodded as she pulled into the car park behind the office. 'Amen to that.'

  12

  'You're already acquainted then?' Netty Munro said. Her voice was toneless, revealing nothing.

  Elizabeth nodded. 'Aye, We go way back, me and Alicia. Don't we, Alicia?'

  Alicia was wiping her reddened eyes, staring up at Elizabeth. 'Aye. Way back.'

  Munro sat herself on the sofa next to Alicia. 'I think it's best if Elizabeth and Jane go and sit out on the decking, while I speak to Alicia.' She looked up at Elizabeth, as if daring her to disagree.

  After a moment, Elizabeth nodded and pulled open the patio doors to step outside. Jane followed, with a brief glance behind her.

  Munro waited until the two women were seated, then pulled the window shut before turning back to Alicia. 'It's not my business to pry into any of your backgrounds but is there some problem with Elizabeth being here?'

  Alicia shook her head. 'It's not Elizabeth's fault. I knew her at school. We were friends as teenagers. I mean, not best friends, but we hung around in the same groups and knew each other pretty well. She was – okay, I suppose. It was her dad–'

  'Ah.' Munro sat up straighter on the sofa. 'You don't need to tell me if you don't want to.'

  'I used to go round to her house sometimes. Her dad was pretty well off, and they had some biggish place. Nice bit of Inverness near the river. Plenty of room so we tended to congregate there a bit. He never seemed to mind. Seemed to welcome us being there. But… then he caught me on my own, in the kitchen. And he tried to touch me. You know?'

  'I know. Did this happen more than once?'

  'I was stupid, looking back. But I was very young…'

  'How old were you?'

  'Only fourteen.'

  Munro nodded, her face expressionless. 'I see.'

  'He… he chatted me up, I suppose. I was flattered that he was even interested in a wee girl like me. He was decent looking for his age, and quite sophisticated, I suppose. So I let him do things–'

  'I'm sorry, Alicia.'

  Alicia shrugged. 'I think Lizzie – Elizabeth – knew what was going on. She warned me off. At the time, I was angry about it. Thought she was interfering. I thought it was her dad's business what he did.' She laughed. 'I didn't realise she was trying to protect me. We had a blazing row and didn't speak after that. I haven't seen her since I left school. Until now. Brought the whole thing back.'

  'I'm sorry,' Munro said again. 'If you think it's better that Elizabeth doesn't stay here–'

  'It's not her fault. It would be good for us to get to know each other again. Put that behind us.'

  'I think Elizabeth's got as much to put behind her as you have. I know that your experience with her father wasn't the only instance of that behaviour.'

  'Do you mean–?'

  Munro held up her hand. 'I don't mean anything, except what I said. But you're both survivors, in your different ways. I imagine you'll be able to help each other, if you allow yourselves the time and the space. Jane too. But Elizabeth may not be the easiest person to deal with.'

  Alicia nodded. 'She was always a bit like that. Strong-willed. Took the lead, and knew what she wanted. It's difficult to think of her as – well, as a victim.'

  'Sometimes it's people like that who suffer most of all. Because they don't want to admit they're not in control. Are you ready for us to go out and join them?'

  'I think so.'

  'You've every right to your privacy. I've told you all that you don't need to share anything about your background if you don't want to. I have very few rules here, but that's one of them. Don't let Elizabeth badger you into sharing things that you don't want to. If you feel pressurised, tell me straightaway.'

  Munro pushed herself to her feet and led Alicia out on to the decking. Elizabeth and Jane were sitting at the large table, sipping their lemonades in silence, gazing out at the vista of the firth and the mountains beyond. 'Alicia tells me you were at school together,' Munro said to Elizabeth.

  'Yeah. We were good friends then, weren't we, Alicia?'

  Alicia sat herself down beside the other two young women. 'Aye, pretty good. It's been a long time.'

  'It has that,' Elizabeth agreed. 'How've you been keeping?'

  'You know. Not so bad.'

  'That's the story of all of us, isn't it?' Elizabeth said, glancing over at Munro, who was watching them both, her face revealing nothing. 'Not so bad. Considering.'

  13

  'Jimmy McGuire?' Helena Grant said. 'Is that supposed to mean something to me?' They had already been through a variant of this conversation over the phone, but Grant never believed in making life easy for McKay.

  'Dingwall and McGuire?' McKay offered.

  'Firm of solicitors? I think I used them to buy my house.'

  'Comedy double act from the nineties. I believe they were fucking hilarious.'

  Grant frowned. 'Now you mention it, they do ring a vague bell. On telly a bit, weren't they?'

  'Aye, so I believe. To be honest, I don't remember them either. But I'm told they had their moment in the sun.'

  'It's all we need, isn't it? McGuire may be a long-forgotten no-mark, but I can see the headline: TV celebrity murdered.'

  'You always know it's a long-forgotten no-mark when they don't put the name in the headline,' McKay agreed. 'But still everyone buys the paper to find out which particular long-forgotten no-mark it is.'

  'And in the current climate the media will act as if he was the new Billy Connolly, just so they can use it as a stick to beat us.'

  'You don't think you're getting a mite paranoid, boss?' McKay enquired innocently.

  She gazed at him for a moment, as if considering a more forthright response. 'No, Alec, I really don't. Not considering that we're still dealing with the flak from the Elizabeth Hamilton case. They've still got that bloody media campaign going. Linking it to all the "Me Too" stuff in the US now.'

  McKay shrugged. 'It's not unreasonable. Robbins and Gorman were precisely that kind of sleazebag. I'm sure there are plenty more of those bastards out there.'

  'I'm not denying it. But there's also a political agenda here. In particular, an anti-Police Scotland agenda. They're just using it opportunistically. In part anyway,' she added as an afterthought. 'Jesus, if I'm not careful I'll find myself defending the likes of Denny Gorman.' She gave a mock shudder.

  'Ach, it's always the way with those bastards. Even when they do the right thing, they do it for the wrong reasons. All we can do is keep buggering on.'

  'And hope we don't bugger up. Aye, I know.'

  'Any more word on the Hamilton case?' McKay enquired.

  'Nothing. I'm hoping we've headed the Chief off at the pass with regard to getting complaints involved. Trouble is, they're always keen to get their arse covering in first just in case. But he recognises the Not Proven verdict implies that our testimony was accepted as credible. It was mainly just that there was no one to corroborate Ginny's version of events. And enough sympathy for Hamilton to swing the verdict.'

  'Meanwhile, we're the bad guys because we dragged her into court.'

  'Not
our decision. All we do is present the evidence. Which is why I don't think the Procurator will be wanting to open this up again, either.'

  'The danger is we all play the blame game. It's always a risk when you've got fuckwits in charge.'

  'Expressed with typical diplomacy, Alec. Okay, so what about McGuire?'

  'The key question is whether McGuire was targeted for some reason, or whether this was just some crazy picking a victim at random.'

  'I don't think that's the politically correct term, Alec.'

  'Aye, I'll let you know when I start worrying about the sensitivities of someone who garrottes random passers-by.'

  'Pretty bizarre way to kill, whatever the motive.'

  'Which is why my initial inclination is to think it's some nutter. Sorry, differently sane individual. I guess it's possible they didn't even realise what the consequences would be, though that's hard to believe. But it's also an efficient way to top someone in a relatively public area. Silent. Easy to target. Gives the victim no opportunity to respond or probably even make much of a sound. Simple to dispose of. If you wanted something quick and quiet, it might be what you'd choose.'

  Grant thought for a moment. 'Could it be a pro job?'

  'No idea. I mean, I suppose it's possible, for all the reasons I've just said. I've never heard of a pro using this method, but maybe this one's just pushing the envelope. Your more innovative hitman. But why would anyone take out a contract on Jimmy McGuire? He can't have been that unfunny.'

  'Maybe he owed money. Maybe this was a warning pour encourager les autres.'

  'Seems an extreme way of doing it. A good kicking would have sufficed. But we can look into that possibility.'

  'Current wife? Ex-wife? Spurned girlfriend? Someone else with a grudge?'

  'Anything's possible. It sounds as if he wasn't the easiest person to deal with, so he might have made a few enemies. I've got someone looking into his family circumstances. We don't even know yet if he was married. There doesn't seem to be any reference to a wife in any of the online stuff about him, but then there isn't all that much about him, full stop. He might have had his moment in the sun once, but the clouds have closed on him pretty thoroughly over the last decade or so.'

  'What else?'

  'We're talking to people at the club, though I don't know how much we'll get from that. We're doing some door to doors in the area where he was found, but most of the property round there is retail or commercial, so there's not much chance of finding anyone who saw anything. Beyond that, our best bet is to follow up any personal or domestic connections.'

  Grant nodded. 'We can't keep this one under wraps. If this was a random killing, we potentially have a threat to public safety. We'll have to issue a warning.'

  'We can keep McGuire's name out of it for the moment. The body's not been formally identified. That at least buys us a little breathing space.'

  'Maybe. I'm willing to bet this has already been leaked. Some bugger here will have accepted a quiet backhander for revealing the identity. I'll talk to comms. I'd aim for a low-key warning – there's no point in stirring up too much panic – but it's their call.'

  'I'll leave you to deal with those smooth-talking buggers. Not really part of my skill set.'

  'You do surprise me, Alec. How are things on the home front just now?'

  'Ach, you know, pretty much the same. Still enjoying the bachelor lifestyle, if that's what you want to know. Young, free and single. Well, single anyway.'

  'Tell me about it.' Grant had been widowed at a relatively early age and lived by herself in North Kessock. 'How's Chrissie seem?'

  'She's thawing a bit. Though still not giving any strong signs of encouraging me back. But we're both getting better at talking about things.'

  The way McKay was shifting in his seat suggested to Grant that this improvement didn't extend to discussing personal matters with her. She felt the same discomfort when anyone tried to talk to her about her late husband. 'It'll work out in the end.'

  'Aye, one way or another,' McKay agreed fatalistically. He pushed himself to his feet. 'I'd better see how Ginny's getting on. I've left her drumming up resources for us.'

  'Let me know if anyone won't play ball, and I'll crack the whip.'

  'Ginny's very persuasive.'

  'It's going to be a big one, this. We need to make sure we don't screw up.'

  McKay nodded. 'I'm thinking of having those very words emblazoned on a motivational poster above my desk.'

  14

  'Right, we've got everything pretty much in place,’ McKay said. ‘We've a team doing door to doors round the area where the body was found. There are a few private flats and stuff tucked in among all the shops and offices, so someone might have seen something.'

  'I'm not holding my breath. What about the club?'

  'I've sent Josh Carlisle. If there's anything useful, he'll get it out of them.'

  'Aye, I can see those wee lasses fawning over young Josh,' McKay said. Carlisle was a relatively inexperienced DC who had gradually been earning McKay's grudging respect. Not least because he'd emerged largely unscathed from the fiery baptism to which McKay subjected young officers.

  'I was thinking more of his interviewing skills,' Horton said.

  'Aye, those too.'

  'I sent someone to check out McGuire's hotel room. I wondered about doing it while I was there, but thought it best to get it done properly so I just told them to make sure it wasn't touched till we got back.'

  'Anything?'

  'Not really. It looked as if he'd hardly been in there. The receptionist reckoned he checked in, dropped his bag, and pretty much went straight back out again. Which ties in with the time he arrived at the club. They brought his bag over and I've had someone go through it, but it's just a change of clothes really. No documents to add to what was in his pockets.'

  'Which was?'

  'Usual stuff. Wallet with a driving licence, a few bank cards, fifty quid in Scottish notes, and a few receipts and stuff. Driving licence gave us an address at least. Outskirts of Edinburgh.'

  'How did he get up here?'

  'Looks like the train. There's a return ticket in the wallet.'

  'Anything else?'

  'I've been doing a bit of digging into his personal circumstances. He was divorced. Not long after it all went pear-shaped following Dingwall's conviction. But there's also apparently a current partner. I found some story about McGuire online. A new future for funny-man Jimmy. You can imagine.'

  'I can imagine right enough. Okay, we'd better get someone to go and break the news to his new partner. Then see if we can get her up here to do the formal identification.' McKay shook his head. 'That bit's always a bastard.'

  Horton nodded. 'There was a card in his wallet for what I assume is his agent. Also Edinburgh based. Thought we shouldn't set any hares running till we'd spoken to the partner. Don't want this leaking out inappropriately.'

  'Quite right.' McKay paused, thinking. 'If there's two of them down there worth talking to, maybe we should have a trip ourselves, rather than delegating it to the local plods. If I can get Helena to clear the lines.'

  'You think it's a good use of our time?'

  'Who knows? If anyone can tell us anything useful about McGuire, personal or business, it ought to be those two. And never does any harm to see the whites of their eyes when you break the news. Just in case they've got anything to hide.'

  'You think they might have?'

  'I don't think anything. But I don't discount anything either. Always keep an open mind.'

  'That's you all over.'

  'Anyway,' McKay went on, ignoring her, 'we've got the routine stuff underway here. If I get Helena to make the necessary calls today, we could have a drive down first thing. Always good to do a bit of missionary work among the lowland heathens.'

  'You're not even a highlander, Alec. You're from Dundee.'

  'Aye, but they don't know that, do they?'

  'Okay, Alec. I'm game. As long as you don
't get us into any trouble.'

  McKay threw open his hands in mock outrage. 'When have I ever got us into trouble?'

  'If that's a serious question,' she said, 'then let me count the ways.'

  The woman sitting before him was tall, slim and attractive enough to make DC Josh Carlisle feel seriously out of his depth. She obviously recognised the effect she was having on him and wasn't going out of her way to minimise it. He could already feel a blush rising to his sensitive cheeks.

  'Morag Bruce?' he said finally. His voice felt croaky and he had to clear his throat.

  She smiled. 'That's me. And you're…?'

  'Sorry.' He cleared his throat a second time. 'DS Carlisle. Josh,' he added, immediately realising that he'd sounded pompous.

  'Good morning, Josh.'

  'You've presumably been told why I'm here?' None of this was going quite the way he'd intended. He was wishing he could start the conversation again, like rebooting a computer.

  'Drew just told us that – well, something had happened to Jimmy McGuire.'

  Carlisle guessed that Drew Douglas had probably told the staff more than that. He couldn't imagine that the word about McGuire's fate hadn't spread rapidly through the grapevine. 'That's right. We just want to talk to anyone who might have spoken to Mr McGuire last night.'

  'I spoke to him. I imagine a number of us did.' There was something in her tone that Carlisle couldn't immediately interpret.

  'That's fine. We just want to build up as full a picture as possible of his movements. So anything you can tell us will be useful, no matter how trivial it might seem.'

  She nodded slowly, as if considering the significance of his words. 'So what do you need to know?'

  Carlisle was trying to avoid staring too obviously at her. She really was rather good-looking, he thought, with her short blonde hair and slightly mischievous smile. He had the sense that she was teasing him in some barely perceptible way, but decided he didn't care too much. 'We understand he arrived at the club around six. It would be useful to know who he spoke to. What sort of things he talked about. Anything he said that might be pertinent to our enquiries.'