A Taste of Ashes (DI Bob Valentine Book 2) (22 page)

‘Can you not get some bloody clothes on, man?’ said Valentine.

‘I wasn’t expecting visitors.’ He put a hand over his eyes.

‘Not this year, I see … When did you last change those Y-fronts?’

Brogan pointed a finger. ‘That could be classed as harassment.’

McCormack replied, ‘If I do it, will you call it sexual harassment?’

‘I might.’

‘Get inside, Mr Brogan. And don’t make me laugh with your fantasies.’

The detectives proceeded through to the lounge, a small room at the front of the house where the curtains were closed. A brown sofa and a teak coffee table were the only concessions to furniture. Brogan, now dressed in tracksuit pants, removed a half-burnt cigarette from the edge of the table and lit it with a plastic lighter.

‘What’s this all about?’ he said.

‘Not working today, Brogan?’ said Valentine.

‘Shut down, isn’t it? I’m a man of leisure, now.’

‘That’s very interesting, plenty of time to get into trouble.’ He turned to McCormack. ‘Show him the picture?’

She handed over a photograph of Niall Paton, the recent shot that his parents had supplied.

Brogan shrugged. ‘I don’t know him.’

‘That’s strange, your telly on the blink too?’

‘No.’ He indicated the television and flicked it on with the remote control.

‘That photo you’ve got there is of a boy who was murdered the other night. We found him in a field in Cumnock, he’d been dumped down a shallow pit but the rain flushed him out. He wasn’t a pretty sight.’

Brogan handed back the picture, he stood before them and folded his arms. ‘What the bloody hell’s that got to do with me?’

‘Can you account for your movements over the last forty-eight hours, Mr Brogan?’

‘I don’t need to, Christ, I’ve done nothing wrong.’ He drew heavily on the cigarette, it had gone out.

DS McCormack waved a hand at the sofa and invited Brogan to sit down again. ‘Come on, Mr Brogan. This is a double murder investigation, we need you to be on your best behaviour.’

‘Double murder. What? I mean, who else was done in?’

‘Big Jim Tulloch,’ said Valentine. ‘Oh, you recognise the name, I see.’

‘Only because I worked with him.’

‘That would be at the Meat Hangers.’

‘Aye, it was.’

‘Norrie Leask’s gone missing as well. Wonder if he’ll turn up in a field in Cumnock next, Brogan?’

‘I doubt it. Leask looks after himself, or has folk to do that.’ He started to rub at his arms, lit another cigarette end that had been hiding behind his ear.

‘Here, have one of mine,’ said McCormack. She removed a packet of Benson and Hedges and offered one to Brogan. He seemed to settle down once the cigarette was lit.

‘OK,’ said Valentine, ‘I can see you’re a little shaken up by all this unsettling news, never nice to hear a close friend’s passed away.’

‘Tulloch wasn’t a friend of mine,’ he spat the reply.

‘Oh, I thought you were best mates, worked at the Meat Hangers together didn’t you?’

‘Aye, we worked together, that doesn’t mean we were besties. Far bloody from it, mate. Big Tulloch was an arsehole, everyone will tell you that.’

‘Everyone?’ said McCormack. ‘What about Grant Finnie?’

‘Don’t tell me Fin’s dead as well …’

‘No. Not that we’re aware of. Friendlier with Finnie were you?’

‘Friendlier than Tulloch, aye.’

Valentine moved towards the sofa, put his foot on the cushion next to Brogan. ‘Now, if I was a right nosey bastard I’d be asking where all this animosity for our murder victim, James Tulloch, has come from. And then, I’d be asking why you’re so friendly with a man who has gone missing, Grant Finnie, who may or may not be involved in Tulloch’s demise.’

‘Now wait a minute, I never said I was friendly with either of them.’

‘Right now, Brogan, you’re the only link I have between the two of them and the blagging at the Meat Hangers. Oh, and did I mention that Norrie Leask has gone missing and also a substantial amount of cash?’

Brogan drew heavily on the cigarette butt. ‘I don’t know anything about that.’

‘Oh, no. I think you do. And what’s more, I don’t think I’m leaving here unless you tell me just exactly what you do know.’ Valentine sat down beside him on the sofa.

‘Now look, I’m not saying I know anything, all I can tell you is there was some kind of problem, I don’t know what you’d call it, a feud maybe, between Big Jim Tulloch and Fin.’

‘Go on.’

‘Tulloch was always needling him, Fin that is. I think it went way back, I’ve no idea what it was about but Tulloch was the one with the problem. See, Fin was there first and Tulloch got his job later, it was like he only took the job to stick it to Fin, on a daily basis like.’

‘And you say this went way back.’

‘I don’t know how far back, they were in the army together but you’ll know that.’

‘And how do you know the animosity went so far back, it could have just kicked off at the Meat Hangers, maybe Tulloch thought he should still have been Fin’s boss?’

‘No, it was an old wound. It was common knowledge after the punch-up.’

Valentine glanced at McCormack. ‘What punch-up?’ said the DI.

‘They went to blows one night, round the back of the club, it was a fair go as well, crates and barrels were flying.’ Brogan brightened at the memory. ‘It was stopped right enough, by Leask’s boy, that Joe fella with the gold chains and the leather jacket. Another big knuckle-dragger.’

‘And when was the fight?’ said McCormack.

‘Not long ago, month or so maybe.’

‘And there was no trouble after that?’

‘Nah, not really. They kept them apart, surprised they never got their jotters, mind.’

‘Why didn’t Leask sack them?’

‘You tell me, he’s never usually shy about throwing folk out the door.’ Brogan shot off the sofa, irritated. ‘Right, is that enough for you? Can I get on with my life now?’

Valentine stood up to face him, motioned McCormack to the door. ‘Don’t go straying far, Brogan. I might want a word with you again.’

Outside the building, Valentine looked up to the flat they had just came from. Kyle Brogan was standing at the window, a yellowing net curtain pulled back. He made brief eye contact with the officers then removed his cigarette and nodded.

‘What do you think?’ said McCormack.

‘He’s a lying little scrote. That’s what I think.’

‘You think he made that up about the fight?’

‘No. I don’t think he’s got the imagination for that. I think that was instinctual on his part, he just gave us something to get rid of us. There’s more inside that manky little skull of his, though.’

The sound of the window opening drew the officers’ gaze to Brogan, he was leaning onto the ledge now, said, ‘And I hope you’ll tell your wee pal what I told you as well … I’m playing nice like he said.’

Valentine nodded once to McCormack then sprung back to Brogan. ‘You just stay right where you are, boyo!’

The officers started back for the door of the flats.

Darry Millar was the last person Fin expected to call on Jade’s mobile phone. The messages from Leask had mounted to such a ridiculous level that he’d ditched his previous phone and taken a new number. It had been his intention to let Darry have the new number, eventually, but his first priority had been to Jade. The girl had always had more than her fair share of problems but the situation she now found herself in was as bad as it got. It shouldn’t have happened, not after all he knew about Tulloch.

‘Hello, Darry,’ he said.

‘You thought it was Jade.’

‘I … I did yeah.’

There was a prolonged silence between them. ‘Why’s my sister got your new number and I haven’t?’

‘I was going to give you it, but it’s been a bit crazy of late.’

‘I’ve noticed, Fin. You might not think it but there’s a lot I’ve noticed lately.’ Darry’s voice hid an accusation.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He didn’t answer the question. ‘Jade’s fine. She’s here, with me.’

‘That’s good. I’m glad.’

‘Are you?’

Fin’s voice rose. ‘Of course it’s good. Jesus, if she wasn’t with you she’d be in the same spot as your mum now.’

‘You’re talking about my mum now? She’s in some state, I don’t think she’ll ever be making the finals of
Mastermind
, her brain’s scrambled.’

The raised voice subsided. ‘I hear she’s in hospital, best place for her I suppose.’

‘Better than where Niall is.’

‘I suppose.’

The sound of a ferry’s horn blared in the background. ‘Fin, tell me what happened, I mean in your words.’

Fin looked out of the guest house window, the passenger boat was docking at Brodick pier. He tried to think what to say to his friend but couldn’t locate the words. He paced the room, looked at the bed, the rucksack, the pile of money.

‘Fin, what the hell happened?’

‘Well, what did Jade say?’ he sounded coy.

‘She hasn’t said much that makes any sense.’

‘Well what makes you think I can add to that?’

‘She said that Tulloch got what he deserved.’

Fin lowered himself onto the bed, the room was too warm and the over-complicated pattern on the wallpaper blurred. ‘Did she tell you about …’

‘What?’

‘About the … Christ, I have no right telling anyone. Ask her, God Almighty, man, this has been hard enough for me, I don’t need this from you too!’

Darry’s voice came slow and calm. ‘She told me she’s pregnant, if that’s what you mean?’

‘It should never have happened.’

‘No, it shouldn’t, Fin. You were supposed to be minding her. I was still on tour, I couldn’t get home even if I wanted to. I trusted you, you were my friend and what was it you said,
I’ll look out for her, I’ll keep an eye on her
.’

‘Darry, if you only knew what I’ve been through for her, for you too.’

A laugh, deep and guttural. ‘My heart bleeds for you,
mate
.’

‘It wasn’t meant to be like this.’

‘Oh, no. I bet it wasn’t. I misjudged you, I thought you would never let me down but it turns out I never knew you at all. I’m wondering now what I should read into those stories you told me about what Tulloch did in Helmand.’

Fin spat, ‘Stories. You think I made that up?’

‘How am I to know? Maybe the army knew something the rest of us didn’t when they dumped you both.’

‘I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You were there when I spoke out, you saw the mess I was in. Bloody hell, Darry, they flung me out the army for reporting him, for speaking out against what he did. Do you really think I could make that up?’

‘I don’t know what’s true and what’s false anymore, Fin. All I know is my sister is up the pike, her young life ruined, and my mother is looking at the rest of her life in a padded cell because you brought that bastard to our home.’

Fin flared, ‘He trailed me home, came looking for me, I never brought him. He was a psychopath, he wanted to make me pay. Jesus, he blamed me for ruining his career, his life.’

‘Then why did he ruin mine?’

‘I don’t know. Because you were the closest I had to family, because he wanted to see me burn, because he could. Because he was nuts.’ As he stopped screaming into the phone, Fin realised he was brushing away tears.

‘That’s not going to help you, crying.’

‘Darry, if you knew the things I’d done for you … and Jade.’

‘Don’t make me laugh.’

‘I mean it. I put my neck on the block to give her a clean break after Tulloch …’

‘After Tulloch what?’

The phone line fell to silence.

For a moment, Fin stared at the screen willing himself to end the call but something stopped him. Darry needed to know, too. ‘After … he raped her.’

They’d been friends for a long time, they’d grown up together, joined the army together. His mind was awash with memories of when they were children, the fights, the football, the girls. He returned to the phone, panic rising. ‘I have money, lots of money. I took it for Jade, to y’know, help her get it sorted, you can have it.’

Darry stalled, the gap between them widening. ‘We don’t want your money.’

‘Don’t be stupid, think about what you’re saying.’

‘There’s something I need more.’

‘What, revenge? Is that it? Well you can’t have it, he’s gone, dead.’

‘He might be, but you’re not. Not yet anyway.’

‘Darry, talk sense, man, please.’

‘I’m perfectly sensible.’

‘Come on, stop this …’

‘Goodbye, Fin.’

The line died.

‘Darry … Darry …’

DI Bob Valentine didn’t bother to knock on Kyle Brogan’s door this time, he merely turned the handle and walked in. DS McCormack closed the door behind them as Brogan appeared in the hallway, hands up like he was pleading with them not to shoot. He retreated two steps for every one the detectives took, talking all the while, without any coherence.

‘Come on, Bob, I mean you’re all in this together aren’t you?’ he said.

‘I’m going to let you sit down and gather your thoughts before I say much more, Brogan.’

‘What? I thought we were cool. I thought we’d sorted this out, I don’t get this.’

McCormack had lost patience with Brogan too. ‘Sit down and shut up. You’ll speak when you’re spoken to and if you don’t say what we want to hear it’ll be the last words you speak this side of a prison wall.’

Brogan eased himself into the sofa, dislodging the overloaded ashtray as he went. A landslide of cigarette ends fell to the floor. He reached out a hand, tried to stop the ash mountain in progress but his efforts had no effect, he sat back dusting his hands before finally resting his trembling fingers on his knees.

‘That’s better, Brogan,’ said McCormack. The suspect’s eyes flitted left and right, he seemed confused by the DS’s change of persona, like he was suddenly without support in the room. Even the flickering television, pitching surreal shadows at the walls, was on the officers’ side.

‘Now, what was that you were saying about giving a message to
my wee pal
 … ?’