Apart from anything else, it makes the police look even more crap than they already do."
"You don't know the half of it," Alex said.
"What do you mean?"
"Something else happened after the funeral. Rosie Duff's brother turned up. He made sure Weird and I knew he'd come to gloat."
Lynn looked shocked. "Oh, Alex. That's awful. For all of you. That poor man. Not to be able to let it rest after all this time."
"That's not all. He told us that Fife Police have lost the evidence in Rosie's case. The evidence that we were relying on to produce the DNA that would clear us."
"You're kidding."
"I wish I was."
Lynn shook her head. "All the more reason why you need to talk to Lawson."
"You think he wants me rubbing his nose in it?"
"I don't care what Lawson wants. You need to know for sure what's going on. If there really is someone after you, it might be the realization that they're not going to get justice after all that has set them off. Call Lawson in the morning. Set up an appointment. It would put my mind at rest."
Alex rolled off the bed and started to undress. "If that's what it takes, consider it done. But don't blame me if he decides the vigilante's right and decides to arrest me."
To Alex's surprise, when he called to arrange a meeting with ACC Lawson, the secretary gave him a slot that afternoon. It left him enough time to go to the office for a couple of hours, which left him feeling more out of control than he had previously. He liked to keep a close eye on the day-to-day business, not because he didn't have confidence in his staff but because not knowing what was going on made him feel uneasy. But he'd had his eye off the ball too much lately, and he needed to get up to speed. He copied a stack of memos and reports on to a CD, hoping he'd squeeze some time at home later to get on top of things. Grabbing a sandwich to eat in the car, he headed back to Fife.
The empty office he was shown into was about twice the size of his own. The privileges of rank were always more visible in the public sector, he thought, taking in the big desk, the elaborately framed map of the county and James Lawson's prominently displayed commendations. He sat down in the visitor's chair, noting with amusement that it was much lower than the one behind the desk opposite.
He wasn't kept waiting long. The door behind him opened and Alex jumped up. The years hadn't been kind to Lawson, he thought. His skin was lined and weathered, with two patches of high color on his cheeks, the broken veins the badge of a man who either drank too much or spent too much time exposed to the harsh east winds of Fife. His eyes were still shrewd, however, Alex noted as Lawson took him in from top to toe. "Mr. Gilbey," he said. "Sorry to keep you."
"No problem. I know you must be busy. I appreciate you fitting me in so quickly."
Lawson swept past without offering his hand. "I'm always interested when someone connected with an investigation wants to see me." He settled into his leather chair, tugging at his uniform jacket to straighten it.
"I saw you at David Kerr's funeral," Alex said.
"I had business over in Glasgow. I took the opportunity to pay my last respects."
"I didn't think Fife Police had much respect for Mondo," Alex said.
Lawson made an impatient gesture with one hand. "I presume your visit is connected to our reopening of the Rosemary Duff murder?"
"Indirectly, yes. How is the inquiry going? Have you made any progress?"
Lawson looked irritated by the questions. "I can't discuss operational matters relating to an ongoing case with someone in your position."
"What position is that, exactly? You surely don't still regard me as a suspect?" Alex was more courageous than his twenty-year old self; he wasn't about to let a remark like that pass without challenge.
Lawson shuffled some papers on his desk. "You were a witness."
"And witnesses can't be told what's happening? You're quick enough to talk to the press when you make progress. Why do I have less rights than a journalist?"
"I'm not talking to the press about the Rosie Duff case either," Lawson said stiffly.
"Would that be because you've lost the evidence?"
Lawson gave him a long, hard stare. "No comment," he said.