‘It won’t be me, Mr Mackenzie. We have a D/S on the team. His name’s Suttle. He’ll be along later. If you can give him - say - an hour of your time, I’d be grateful.’
‘No problem. Paul’s the one with the heavy schedule.’
‘Oh?’ Faraday cocked an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, he’s up to London on the one o’clock - important meeting with clients. Back tomorrow, eh Paulie?’
‘Yeah.’ Winter offered him a weary nod, already aware that Faraday didn’t believe a word.
Faraday was back in his office by eleven, summoning Jimmy Suttle for an update.
‘Winter’s lying, Jimmy. Mackenzie too. I’ve no idea what’s been going on but the daughter will know, Marie too probably - if she ever talks to us again.’
Faraday described the scene in the kitchen, with Mackenzie raking the ashes of a long-ago fling. Before he’d left the house Faraday had snatched a quiet word with the FLO. According to Helen Christian, Marie had been appalled to find one of her husband’s old girlfriends in the house and it was going to take a while to get her onside.
‘You think that’s going to be possible?’
‘Helen does, and that’s all that matters. She’s playing the sisterhood card. They both know the man, they’ve both had to cope with him. She’s a good girl, Helen, and the fact that she’s so local might even help in the end. God knows, they’ll probably end up mates.’
Suttle nodded. Parsons had organised a squad of detectives for
Causeway
and fired up the Major Incident Room. A D/I from the Serious Organised Crime Unit had arrived with a watching brief but the returns from the initial actions had so far been disappointing. Nothing hugely significant from the traffic cameras. No reports of anything out of the ordinary from neighbouring properties. Four local entries on the Sex Offenders Register, all of them with alibis that would probably check out.
‘Early days though, boss, eh?’
Faraday nodded. He wanted Suttle to get across to Craneswater as soon as possible. Mackenzie, his wife and Winter would have had ample chance to get their stories straight by now but Helen Christian had been right to flag up Marie’s distress. The rift between her and her husband was doubtless what Willard had planned, and in the nature of these incidents Faraday knew that the sheer emotional impact of losing the child would deepen that divide.
‘The son-in-law will probably be there too. Get a full account off him, the last week or so - pin him down.’
‘And Winter?’
‘He’s off to London. Back tomorrow. Good luck, son.’
Suttle left the office, followed by Faraday. Down the corridor, Parsons’ door was open. She was on the phone. Faraday stepped inside and closed the door. His earlier request had given the Surveillance Unit barely an hour to get themselves together.
Parsons ended her call and looked across at Faraday.
‘Well, boss?’
‘Sorted.’ Parsons rarely grinned. ‘He’ll be on the one o’clock, you say?’
Mackenzie insisted on having the confrontation in the den. He didn’t want Marie in on this. No way.
Winter told him to sit down. He rarely lost his temper but now was different. He literally had no choice.
‘You know your problem, Baz? You’ve started to believe your own publicity. You think you’re smarter than they are. You think they’re stupid. Ten years in clover and you think you’re home free. Money’s bought you all this. Money’s even bought you
me
, for fuck’s sake. But you know something? The hole you’re looking at now is deeper than even your fucking pockets. They’ll have it off you, Baz. Every last fucking penny.’
‘I know, mush.’
‘So why fanny around? Why try and pull the wool? Why not do as I suggested? Try and turn the thing to our advantage? Prove what a load of born-again do-gooders we really are? Marie tells me you want to go into politics. Fat fucking chance. Politics takes a bit of wit, Baz. You have to listen to people. You have to suss their weaknesses, their strengths, their funny little ways. Not just march on as if the rest of the fucking world doesn’t exist.’
‘So what was I supposed to say? That we were that close to signing a deal? That we sussed the guy? That we pulled out?’
‘Exactly. All you had to do was make a little drama out of it. All we had to stand up was our own integrity. We could have signed that contract but we didn’t, and there’s no way they can disprove that. These guys are into evidence, Baz. That’s what they collect for a living. In this case there isn’t any. Why? Because we’ve got it all back off them.’
‘Wrong, mush.’
‘What?’
‘I said you’re wrong. I got through to Ez just before they arrived. Told her what had happened.’
‘And?’
‘She’s taking the next plane home but that’s not the point. It’s about the contract.’
‘You’re telling me the hotelier won’t play ball? Won’t give us the contract back?’
‘No, it’s not that. Fresnada’s fine about his copy but he had a little chat to the receptionist who was on duty on Sunday. The lawyer guy apparently asked her to send a fax to the UK just after they signed the contract. Guess how many pages?’
‘Ten?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Shit.’
‘Exactly. Fresnada got me the details. It’s a London number.’
Winter sank into one of the big leather recliners. Suttle was due any minute. They had to work this out, had to.
‘Tell him, Baz.’
‘Tell him what?’
‘Tell him everything. It’s called disclosure and it’s still not too late. The fact that Ez signed the contract needn’t land us completely in the shit. It’s a mistake, sure, but no one’s perfect in this world. We got it wrong. End of.’
Mackenzie shook his head.
‘They’ll screw me, mush, I know it.’
‘So what are you suggesting? What choice do we have?’
‘You go to London. I’ve got Garfield’s address. He won’t be there, of course, but his missus will. Get that contract back off her, the faxed copy plus any others. Then put her in front of a lawyer and get her to sign an affadavit saying that the deal’s off. Do whatever it takes. Be sweet to her. Apologise. Say you’re really, really sorry. Blame what happened on Rikki’s boys. Tell her we’re as pissed off as they are. The thing was totally out of order. If it’s money she’s after she can talk to me. We’ll call it compensation. We’ll call it
any
fucking thing. But she has to see it our way, mush, before these animals get on your case.’
‘
My
case?’
‘Yeah. You’re right about the Filth but you’re in as deep as me, mate. And I’m not just talking money laundering.’ He checked his watch. ‘I’ll phone for a cab. You can still make the one o’clock.’
Perry Madison didn’t bother to knock. Faraday looked up from his desk to find the DCI shutting the office door behind him. As ever, he was wearing a sharply cut grey suit with the kind of fuck-off tie that drew your attention. Today’s was scarlet with yellow blobs. Look at me.
‘Are we making this official or what?’
He stood over Faraday and glowered down at him. This was less than subtle but on a good day he could turn intimidation into an art form.
‘Like it or not you’re part of this thing.’ Faraday reached for his pad. ‘I take it we both want the kid safely back?’
‘Of course we fucking do. Don’t be a twat, Faraday. You know exactly what I’m talking about.’
‘I do?’
‘Yeah. Even you can’t be that thick.’ He was on the balls of his feet now, the classic boxer’s pose, and Faraday wondered whether there was a reasonable chance of violence. Oddly enough, the prospect didn’t worry him in the slightest. He’d long considered Madison to be a headcase and this simply confirmed it. He looked up at him, holding the man’s gaze, then suggested that he sit down.
‘You think I told Willard about you and Mackenzie’s daughter? Is that it?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Then you’re right for once. That’s exactly what I did.’
‘Then you’re a grassing cunt.’
‘Maybe.’ Faraday shrugged. ‘But what does that make you? Apart from stupid?’
‘I could have you for this, Faraday. I can’t think of anyone else who would have done what you’ve done. There’s a code in this job in case you’re wondering, things you do and things you don’t do. Grassing up a colleague is fucking outrageous and climbing up Willard’s arse is even worse. You smell of shit, Faraday. I don’t know how people like you sleep at night.’
‘With ease, if you’re asking. And I’ll tell you something else. I spent the worst six months of my professional life trying to nail Mackenzie and he pissed all over us. You know why? Because he’s smarter than we are. But hey, you might have cracked it. Shag his daughter? Have her fall in love with you? Smart move. That may have legs. That may do it.’
Madison at last lowered himself into the spare chair. He crossed one leg over the other, his eyes never leaving Faraday’s face. Whoever was doing his ironing knew a thing or two about knife-edge creases.
‘You really think that?’
‘Think what?’
‘Think that I’m doing some kind of number on her? Charging her up to overtime?’
‘Yeah. And like I say, that may do it for you. This job loves legends. You could just become one of them. The guy that screwed the Mackenzies. Not just the father but the daughter too. Bold, Perry. It’s good to see guys like you thinking outside the box.’ Faraday reached for his pad and took his time sorting a pen. ‘I hate to lower the tone but what have you been doing these last few days? Care to give me a full account?’
‘You’re twisted, you know that?’
‘No, Perry, I’m just a simple cop. And right now I’d like to know what you’ve been up to. Let’s start with Esme. When did you last see her?’
The question drew a frown from Madison. For a moment, Faraday thought he was about to walk out. He was wrong.
‘Five days ago.’
‘Really? Is this self-denial or have you had a tiff?’
‘She’s not around.’
‘Then where is she?’
‘Spain. Place called Baiona.’
‘And what’s she doing there?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Well fucking try. She works for her dad. It’s something commercial. I haven’t a clue what.’
‘She doesn’t tell you?’
‘No.’ He shook his head, studied his bitten nails. ‘We’ve got better things to talk about, believe it or not.’
‘Like getting it on properly? Divorce? New life? All that?’
‘Like getting out of this khazi, for a start. And like rejoining the rest of the human race.’
‘With her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Abroad? Spain?’
‘Whatever it takes.’
‘So what has she told you? About this place Baiona?’
‘Nothing, except it’s beautiful. She loves it.’
‘And she says you will too. Am I right?’
Faraday knew he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of an answer. For the first time it began to occur to him that Madison might be telling the truth. There really was no covert subplot. He’d met the woman, talked her into bed, and good sex or chronic loneliness had done the rest. After years in the marital desert, the oasis of his dreams.
‘Would it be easier for you to talk to my intel skipper?’ Faraday gestured at his pad. ‘Only I don’t want this to get personal.’
Madison looked up. For once, he’d spotted the irony.
‘Fuck off, Faraday,’ he said softly.
Chapter twenty
TUESDAY, 27 MAY 2008. 13.21
Jimmy Suttle’s interview with Mackenzie was nearly over. They were talking in the front room. Stuart Norcliffe drove a black Porsche Carrera. He parked it outside the big square bay window and let himself into the house. Suttle heard him greeting Marie in the hall. Then the door burst open.
Norcliffe was a big man, shorn scalp, jeans and an open-necked pink shirt under a white linen jacket. He’d driven down from London. He wanted to know just what the hell was going on.
Mackenzie told him. When he’d finished, he introduced Suttle.
‘This guy’s on the case, Stu. He wants to know what we’ve all been up to lately. Isn’t that right, son?’
‘Yeah. Maybe a bit later, Mr Norcliffe? As soon as we’re through?’
‘Whatever will help. Just give me a shout.’
He looked uncertainly at Mackenzie for a moment then left the room. Suttle heard Marie asking whether he’d eaten or not. The kids were upstairs. They’d love to see him.
Suttle turned back to Mackenzie. His notebook was virtually empty. As Faraday had warned, his interviewee was playing the innocent.
‘So nothing that you can think of? Nothing personal? Nothing connected with your business?’
‘Nothing.
Nada.
That’s Spanish, by the way.’
‘And your daughter?’
‘Back this afternoon.’
‘From Spain, you say?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Business or pleasure?’
‘Neither. Needs must, son. She’s had a coupla problems at home, needed a little break, needed to be by herself, have a bit of a think about things. Stu’s pretty much the same except he still needs to work, poor bastard. You probably know about all this over-the-side bollocks, don’t you? From that nice Mr Faraday?’
‘I do. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be, mush. Happens all the time, more and more.’
‘I meant the kids.’
‘Yeah? Well there’s that, of course, big time. You know what my dad would have done if my mum had been knobbed by some other bloke? He’d have done them both, slowly, one after the other. We’re too polite these days. Ever thought about that?’
The interview was at an end, Suttle knew. Mackenzie got to his feet and said he’d send Stu in.
‘Must be like an audition for you, eh, son? Putting us through our paces, see if we measure up? Go easy on Stu, though. Bloke’s in a bit of a state.’
Mackenzie left the room. Seconds later Helen Christian came in. She’d been upstairs with the kids but beat a discreet retreat when their dad appeared. The kids, she said, were a real credit.