Turrell in Lothian and Borders and of course by Felicity Stewart.’
He smiled, scratching the side of his nose. ‘What did you make of her, by the way?’
Lorimer raised his eyebrows, wondering if he was genuinely being required to state his opinion or if the chief was trying to search out his political leanings.
‘Fairly sharp, sir,’ he replied, hoping that this answer would be non-committal enough for now. A hard, unforgiving sort of woman, he had thought to himself, though he’d never utter such words outside his own four walls.
‘Aye, she is,’ the chief nodded again. ‘And she’ll be expecting you to find Pattison’s killer as soon as possible. The longer all this goes on, the worse it will be for the current administration. So, prioritise all of the existing cases in the squad, Lorimer. You hear what I’m saying?’
It was, he thought grimly, like being given a taste of his own medicine. Was this how DI Sutherland had felt when he had given him no option but to obey his orders? Perhaps. Well, there was maybe a lesson in this for him. He was always going to be accountable to someone higher up the chain of command, Lorimer thought. And even the chief constable probably had to do whatever the first minister demanded. The case files he’d given Solly suddenly came to mind, images of the Geddes woman in death making him tighten his lips in a moment of pity. He had wanted to take that case and shake it by the scruff of its neck, not because he’d had doubts about Helen James’s capabilities as an SIO, but simply because it seemed to matter so much. And, he acknowledged to himself, he wanted to find the person who had murdered these women and bring them to justice. Well, the street girls’ murders might have to be delegated to someone else now, but he was determined to keep an eye on whatever developments happened in that investigation. He thought of Helen James for a moment; pity she’d been unable to have keyhole surgery. The recovery time from her operation would be at least six weeks. Well, perhaps he’d have the Pattison case done and dusted by then, though something told him that wasn’t likely.
Lorimer sat still for a moment, considering his options. Creating a special unit drawn from Mumby and Preston’s officers and the task force that he now ran here was one possibility. It would certainly make sense to utilise the men and women who already knew the first two cases inside out. But he guessed that given Pattison’s position as the country’s deputy first minister the inquiry was going to require quite a different approach. The chief constable’s demands were perfectly reasonable, after all. Pattison had been a very important man and one who may well have had enemies within political circles. A niggle of suspicion made him frown: was this all to do with Pattison? He had come across sickminded killers before who had carried out several murders simply to obfuscate the one that really mattered. And, if ballistics came up with a different sort of weapon, could this possibly be a copycat killing? Felicity Stewart had given him a few names, one of which was the same as that supplied by Catherine Pattison; a disaffected Labour party member who had been heard threatening Pattison on more than one occasion. The others were SNP colleagues who, she claimed, had resented the late deputy minister’s meteoric rise to power. Somehow though, Lorimer felt it unlikely that any of them would have stooped so low as to actually kill their rival. Still their alibis for the night of Pattison’s death would have to be checked out and Lorimer found himself hoping that each of these politicians had been far from the scene of the deputy first minister’s murder.
Lorimer let his gaze pass from one photograph to the next, willing something to ignite a spark in his brain to show him a connection between each victim, not that he lacked faith in the officers who had been down these roads before. Until now all they had were crazy things: they’d all owned luxury cars in the same dazzling showroom white, they’d been staying just for a few days (or overnight in Pattison’s case) in the city centre. And the first two men had been killed by the same gun, according to ballistics. So far, questions asked in Glasgow’s shadier corners had failed to turn up anything, but there was still