So,’ she continued, ‘what else can you tell me about poor Tracey-Anne Geddes?’
Barbara Knox smiled wryly at the report in front of her. Detective Superintendent Lorimer had not been wrong on this one, she thought, reading the statistics that told of several white Mercedes sports cars suddenly being offered as trade-ins around the country. Her smile widened as she remembered how the SIO had asked her directly to take on this particular action. Working here in the Serious Crimes Squad was not only better than being at Mumby’s beck and call, it would surely look good on her CV and improve her chances of promotion. Okay, it was only temporary but Barbara was relishing the chance to work on this case, particularly with Lorimer in charge. He had … how could she describe it? The kind of authority that made you want to do your best for him. And he cared, he really cared about the victims of crime, something that DI Sutherland seemed to have forgotten how to do, she thought darkly.
She pressed the print button, telling herself that she needed to re-read hard copy before she forwarded this information to the rest of the team. It had to be good, to read well, and, most important of all, it had to impress that tall man with the piercing blue eyes. Two copies of the information slid onto the feed tray and DC Knox pulled them off, separating them quickly. One copy she shuffled into a card file, the other she folded twice then, hesitating for just a fraction, stuffed it into a pocket of her handbag.
‘Gentlemen,’ Lorimer said, turning slightly to one side and smiling, ‘and ladies,’ he added, nodding to the female journalists who were present for this press conference. ‘Thank you all for coming to police headquarters. I intend to give a short statement regarding the progress of this case after which I can give you all time to ask questions.’
A murmur of appreciation rose from the men and women facing Lorimer in Pitt Street’s assembly hall. The detective superintendent wanted nothing more than to be left to get on with the case right now, but he acknowledged that this time with the press pack was invaluable if he were to get them onto his side.
‘There is as yet no suspect for the murder of the deputy first minister or the two men who were killed in sports cars identical to Mr Pattison’s. We are throwing massive resources at this case, however, and hope to have reports from the forensic services very soon. Officers from each of the divisions investigating Mr Wardlaw’s and Mr Littlejohn’s deaths have been seconded to this squad meantime.’ He paused and looked out directly at them all before continuing. This next point might prove controversial but it mattered to him.
‘Serious Crimes have enlisted the expertise of Professor Brightman from the University of Glasgow,’ he said slowly. ‘We hope that he might throw some light on the personality of the killer. Professor Brightman has assisted Strathclyde Police most successfully in previous cases and we are very lucky to have someone of his calibre working with us.’
Several of the people in front of him turned to their neighbours, a questioning look on their faces. Solomon Brightman’s services had been suspended for a time following a debacle south of the border when an experienced psychologist had made a colossal error, throwing the entire science of criminal profiling into doubt. Lorimer realised, however, that this was his chance to reinstate Solly in the most public of ways.
‘I would be pleased to take any questions for the next thirty minutes,’ Lorimer said firmly.
It was in fact considerably more than half an hour later that Lorimer was walking hurriedly across the street to where his driver was waiting. Once again he had to make the trip across to the east of the country, this time to talk to Pattison’s colleagues and friends. Thinking back to the way both Felicity Stewart and Catherine Pattison had described the dead man, Lorimer wondered if in fact the late deputy first minister had had anyone who might recognise themselves as his friend.
A thin sleet had begun to cover the city rooftops as they made their way from Glasgow past the tall forbidding chimneys of the Royal Infirmary and out along the motorway. Sitting in the rear of the big car, Lorimer had time to think over the press conference. There had been, inevitably, questions asked about the wisdom of using a