could ever imagine, and I don’t care who the fuck you are.’
Pye took the key from the ignition and laid a crested ‘Police on duty’ card on the dashboard. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s go and lean on these two clowns.’
The detectives stepped out of the car and walked the few yards to the door of the takeaway. There were no customers, but Ian Harbison was behind the service counter. As they entered, he did not react; instead he continued staring at the wall. Radio Forth was playing in the background, a news reader halfway through a football news story.
‘Drizzle,’ Haddock said quietly, turning the sign on the door from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’. Harbison jumped, and turned to face them.
‘You two,’ he murmured. ‘What I just heard on the radio: it’s true, is it? Dino’s dead?’
‘Afraid so,’ the DS replied. ‘And Singer.’
‘Yeah? Bloody hell!’
‘What time did they leave here yesterday?’
Drizzle stared. ‘What are you talking about? They were never here.’
Pye glared at him. ‘That’s not what the pathologist says. Unless some other takeaway was doing a venison special yesterday, they were here.’
‘If they were, I never saw them,’ he insisted. ‘I told you, if I’d seen Dino, I’d have called you. But . . . I was front of house in the afternoon. Jagger was in the kitchen.’
‘Is he there now?’
‘Yes. Hold on.’ Harbison turned and opened the door behind him. ‘Jagger,’ he barked. ‘Get your fucking arse in here!’
A few seconds later, Michael Smith appeared, in an apron and a white trilby, frowning. ‘What the fuck’s up wi’ . . .’ He stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Pye and Haddock. ‘Aw no! Gie’s a break.’
‘Dino’s dead,’ his friend said, bluntly. ‘Him and Singer.’
‘What?’ he gasped, mouth agape.
‘It’s just been on the radio. They were found last night, shot dead in a car, up in the Pentlands. Dino didn’t have a car that I know of, but I’ve got a hell of a feeling that there was one parked out the back of this place yesterday afternoon.’
Jagger flared up and took a step forward, his loose lips pouting. ‘Aye, well?’ he snarled. ‘He’s ma mate, so . . .’ Drizzle met him halfway, with a headbutt that landed above his left eye; he howled and reeled back, his hands going to his face.
‘You half-witted twat,’ Harbison snapped. ‘You knew the guy was wanted for taking that kid. We are on probation, both of us. If you get caught helping him, here, in this place, that lands me in it as well.’
‘Did you guys see that?’ Jagger wailed, as he straightened up. A trickle of blood came from a cut on his eyebrow.
‘No,’ Pye told him, ‘and if he banjoes you again we won’t see that either. So tell us: what time was he here?’
‘The back of five,’ he confessed. ‘Like Drizzle said, he came in the back door, him and Anna. There wis a white motor parked ootside. He was scared, ken; they both were, but Dino was kackin’ himself. I asked him if it was right, that he’d kilt that lassie.’
‘What did he say?’ Haddock asked.
‘He said that she was alive when he put her in the motor, and that the boot was padded, wi’ an air hole in it. He said that he ran intae some guy in the Fort Kinnaird car park. The fella came for him, big bloke, hard lookin’, so he legged it.’
‘So why did he come here?’
‘For cash,’ Jagger said. ‘He told me that he’d gone back tae North Berwick, to get his old man’s car and pick up dough frae his flat, but that he bumped in tae polis. Wis that youse?’
Pye nodded. ‘Take us on from there.’
‘He told me he’d got away then caught the train tae Musselburgh. He’d taken his sister’s motor frae the uni, where it’s parked durin’ the day, and then picked up Singer.’
‘Why did he do that?’ the DCI asked. ‘Why did he involve her?’
‘Ah don’t now. Ah never asked him. Mibbe he didnae want tae leave her behind. He wis daft on her, man.’
‘Did you give him money?’
‘Aye. A kept a tenner for masel’, and gave him the rest o’ what Ah had on me, about thirty-five quid. Ah gave him ma bank card too. Ah told him he could have three hundred quid out of that and post it back to me. He said that if Ah wanted, I could take thae fish out ma granny’s freezer, deliver them tae the Chinese in Broxburn and