phone call from our boss to one of his bosses. If he brushes you off after that, let me know. I saw the look in DCC McGuire’s eyes at the crime scene this morning. If we asked him, he’d make the call in a second.’
‘Okay, Sarge,’ Wright replied. ‘I suppose it isn’t important that we speak to Gates right away,’ she conceded.
‘What makes you say that?’ the DS countered, sharply. ‘If not right away, we need to interview him as soon as possible, make no mistake.’
‘But he can’t be a suspect if he’s a few thousand miles away.’
‘Suspect, no, but regardless of his location, he’s a victim. And, regardless of his location, he’s a potential witness. Do he or Grete have any enemies? Does either of them have a bunny-boiler ex-partner out there? Until she recovers consciousness, if she ever does, only he can tell us. How sensitive is his naval job? Could the attack and the abduction be connected with that? As for him being a suspect, stranger things have happened . . . and if he is party to a conspiracy, what better alibi than to be sitting under a polar icecap or somewhere similar at the time of the crime?’
‘Okay, Sarge. I’ll call Blackett back, right away.’ The young DC sighed. ‘I’ll never be any good at this job, will I?’
‘Hey, don’t be like that,’ Haddock chuckled. ‘You are good at it.’ He turned to Pye who was in the driver’s seat as they headed along the A1, towards Edinburgh. ‘Isn’t she, boss?’
‘You’re doing fine, Jackie,’ the DCI said into the car’s Bluetooth microphone. ‘I’ve had to deal with these MoD people. They can redefine difficult if they’re that way inclined. If you really want, I’ll phone Blackett myself, but I’d rather you had the pleasure of telling him what DS Haddock said will happen if he doesn’t loosen up.’
‘Thanks, sir,’ she replied, her self-confidence shored up. ‘I’ll do that.’
‘Straight away,’ Pye added. ‘You’re doing a great job behind that desk, but you should have some fresh air. I’m going to have to attend poor wee Zena’s autopsy, so DS Haddock will need a sidekick when he goes in search of our prime suspect. We’ll be with you in ten minutes.’
Fifteen
‘What’s that building over there? I’ve always wondered.’
Sauce Haddock glanced to his right, following DC Jackie Wright’s pointing finger. ‘Queen Margaret University,’ he replied. ‘How long is “always” in your book? It’s only been there for a few years.’
‘Has it? Seems like forever.’
‘In two hundred yards turn right.’ The mellifluous female voice of the navigation system interrupted their conversation.
‘Can’t you have a male voice on those things?’ Wright grumbled.
‘I believe you can,’ the DS chuckled as he eased into the turn, ‘but everybody picks the bird. You don’t get as confrontational with her. Cuts down on the road rage.’
‘In one hundred yards you will have reached your destination,’ Satnav woman announced.
‘What number?’ the young DC asked.
Haddock drew to a halt. ‘Twenty-four. She’s as good as her word. That’s it, and from the car in the driveway it looks as if there’s somebody in.’
He climbed out of their unmarked police vehicle and walked round to join his colleague. The modern, brick-built semi-detached villa had a small garden in front, laid out mostly in yellow slabs interspersed with squares where shrubs were set in gravel. ‘That’s my style,’ he observed. ‘Minimum maintenance.’
The front door of the house was opened, just as they reached it, by a large black man who seemed to fill its frame.
‘Mr Rattray?’ the DS began. ‘Levon Rattray?’
The householder nodded, frowning as he looked at the warrant cards that both officers displayed.
‘DS Haddock, DC Wright. Is your wife at home?’
‘No, she’s at work.’ The accent was English, metropolitan, Liverpool or Birmingham; the two had always confused Haddock.
‘Then maybe we can have a few words with you. Inside?’
‘Sure.’ Rattray stepped back to allow them entrance to his home, then ushered them through the hallway and into a spacious dining kitchen at the rear of the house. ‘I’m making the dinner,’ he explained. ‘Donna’s due back at five and I’m on night shift at six, so that hour’s all we have together. Do you mind if I carry on while we talk?’ he asked.
‘Of course not,’ Wright replied ‘What do the pair of you do?’ she asked.
‘Donna works at QMU, just up the road. I’m in Fire and Rescue; my station’s five minutes away in the car. There’s no commute for either of us; we’re all right that