By All Means (Fiske and MacNee Mysteries Book 2) (19 page)

'Please come in.' There was a buzz and a click. Vanessa pushed opened the door and was met by a tall man in his mid-thirties.  He was in shirtsleeves and he extended a hand and said, 'Ms Fiske, please come through.'

She thanked him and followed him to a small office.  The partition walls were thin, and their conversation, if it was conducted in anything much louder than a whisper, would be audible in the general office, where three women and a teenage boy sat at their desks.

As she sat down, Vanessa said, quietly, 'You know that it's Detective Chief Inspector Fiske?'

Gilbertson nodded.

'This is a sensitive matter, Mr Gilbertson, and, at this stage, a confidential one, so it's important that we are not overheard.'

'There should be no problem if we don't raise our voices.'   This was said in a tone that Vanessa's father would have described as "oleaginous", but she decided to take it at face value.

'I need to know the nature of your relationship with Inspector Richard Fleming.'

'Not a name I immediately recognise, Chief Inspector.'

'Yes it is.'  Vanessa spoke very quietly, but with a mixture of certainty and menace. 'I do not have time, in the middle of a major murder investigation, to be pissed about, so answer the question.'

Gilbertson made a show of recall.  'Oh, Rich Fleming!  It was the rank and the Sunday name that threw me.  I've met him now and again in the Dunottar Castle in Stonehaven. We've been on the same quiz team a couple of times.'

'With Frank Mancuso of Last Cairngorm, I understand.'

Gilbertson looked shaken.  He saw that DCI Fiske was not simply on a fishing trip and he needed to calculate quickly how much she might know and how much he should say.

'We've had the occasional meal together and I think we went to

see
the Dons at Pittodrie once.'

'I think that he's been feeding you confidential information that you've been passing to people, like Mancuso, who are prepared to pay you for it.'

Vanessa was chancing her arm, but Gilbertson's reaction to her second mention of Mancuso, told her she had hit home.  She pressed on.

'We think you passed information about policing plans to Mancuso during the demonstrations against Last's development of the leisure complex and I think you've been in touch, more recently, with someone, whose name you may not know but I do, with an interest in the locations of the murders I'm investigating.  So this is serious, Mr Gilbertson.  You should talk to me.'

'I don't think I want to say any more before I take advice.'

'That's your right, but I should tell you that we know the source of the information that has got out.   And I would advise you, very strongly, not to attempt to contact anybody' - she placed an unmistakeably meaningful emphasis on the word - 'in North East Constabulary.'

Gilbertson was no longer the confident PR man who had opened the door to Vanessa a few minutes before.  'Am I suspected of a crime?'

Vanessa could scarcely conceal her contempt. 'Of course you are.  I'm just not ready to charge you yet.  I'll find my own way out.'

*

When she got back to HQ, Vanessa went to see the DCS.   She told him what Williamson had discovered about Fleming and Gilbertson and about her meeting at Mid-Aberdeenshire Council.

'We need to speak to Fleming again, but we need to try to establish a clear and continuing connection between him and Gilbertson.  I really don't see how we can find time to do it before Wednesday.  I have to get to Glasgow later today ready for the arrests tomorrow morning, then I've got to get the suspects back here.  We'll interview them separately as soon as we get them here.  At the same time, Hamilton and Gajani, with a little help from Strathclyde, will be searching their homes and workplaces, so we may want to talk to them again, depending what they turn up.'

'So couldn't we find an hour to speak to Fleming late tomorrow afternoon? We need to resolve this soon, or decide whether to call in the Police Complaints Commissioner.'

'Ah.  Sorry, sir, I have to be somewhere else at four o'clock tomorrow.  Not work related, but unavoidable.'

'Can't you postpone it?'

Vanessa took a deep breath. 'I'm pregnant, sir, and I have to go to GRH for a scan.  Hardly anybody here knows, though some will have added two and two.  I decided not to "go public" until we have the results of the scan.'

Esslemont looked nonplussed, unsure how to react, riffling through his memory of the personnel manual to find the appropriate response.  Vanessa decided to help him.

'Neil and I are delighted about it, sir, so you're allowed to say "Congratulations"...if you want to.'

'Yes, well, congratulations, Vanessa.  Hope everything is OK.  No doubt you'll want to discuss...arrangements...in due course...'

'We could ask Fleming to come in on Wednesday afternoon. Three o'clock?'

'What's wrong with Wednesday morning?  I really don't want this dragging on.'

'Priorities, sir.  I may have to be in Edinburgh on Wednesday morning, early.'

'To pick up MacIver?'

'If we have enough to go on.  By the way, sir, I've been thinking about what we told the Chief, and I think it may be simpler to arrest MacIver before he leaves home and then get Ingram to brief the First Minister.  I can get uniform to pick me up at 3.30 and drive me to Edinburgh.  I don't think MacIver will leave home before six.'

'Fine.  I'll let the Chief know.'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

In Wilmington, Delaware, on Monday, while Vanessa Fiske in Aberdeen was telling the DCS that she was pregnant, Cy Packard, the Chief Executive Officer of Burtonhall Inc., was sitting at the head of the board room table in his company's headquarters. On a television on the opposite wall, the Chairman, the Honorable Richard Seaton, in Washington DC, and Jack Eisner, in Tammy Wootten's office in Aberdeen, were on a split-screen video link.  On Packard's left, the first two chairs were occupied by Burtonhall's general counsel, Magnus Friedkin, and Charlie Fillmore, the Chief Investment Officer, Packard's most senior adviser.   Opposite them sat Caleb Adams, CEO of Hedelco, and his legal adviser, Joanna Morse, both of whom had flown down from Boston the previous evening in order to be at this eight o'clock meeting. 

At each place there were two plastic folders, one clear, one green. The clear folder contained a thin portfolio of papers.  The longest document was Fiona Marchmont's formal request to the Foreign and Commonwealth Office for diplomatic assistance in persuading Hedelco to release to DCI Fiske copies of the emails sent back to Hedelco by Peter Keller during his technical audit in the four days before his death at GRH.   This was covered by copies of the minute from the FCO to the Legal Attaché at the British Embassy in Washington, the note from the attaché to the Department of Justice, the DoJ's request for assistance from the Massachusetts Attorney General, and the state A-G's formal request to Hedelco for the release of the emails.  The green folder held copies of Keller’s emails.

‘Magnus’, Packard said, ‘What do you advise?’

Friedkin, a small man in a dark business suit with an almost invisible  silver grey stripe through it, a light blue shirt, and an unremarkable dark silk, self-coloured blue tie, placed his pen on top of the unopened folders.  ‘As you are all probably aware, this is not a legal issue.  If the Scottish police thought that they had any chance of a quick resolution of this issue through due process, we would be preparing for our day in court.’

He allowed himself a slight smile as he used the legal cliché. ‘But we’re not, because this is essentially political.  And we can use that adjective with both a lower case and an upper case p.  It’s political with a capital P because it involves, internationally, two governments, and, domestically, two levels of government.  It’s political with a small p, because it raises policy issues for Hedelco and, ultimately for Burtonhall.’

Richard Seaton’s disembodied voice resonated from the flat screen on the wall.  ‘What policy issues, specifically?’

‘Well, Chairman, we’re here because Hedelco, following Burtonhall practice, has refused to release these emails because they are commercially sensitive and therefore privileged.  I wouldn’t like to guess whether that claim would stand up in court, though I am prepared to say that if the murder had happened in Boston, and the request had come from the Boston police, I would have advised compliance on two grounds.  Number one, they would probably have got an order from a judge quite quickly compelling us to release the emails.  Number two, the Boston
Globe
and every news programme in the state would have trashed our reputation if we had resisted.’

‘So the issue is whether the policy is to be defended at all costs?’

‘I would rather say “in all cases”.’

Packard sat forward. ‘A policy is a policy.  We take a strong position on confidentiality because that’s what our investors expect.’

‘What our investors expect, Cy,’ Seaton said, ‘is a good return on their money and as little publicity as possible.  We’re already taking a reputational hit in the UK and I think I speak for the whole board when I say I don’t want it to get any worse.  We’ve got politicians as well as the press taking a very close interest in this.  I’m not convinced that refusing to release the emails is worse than handing them over.’

Caleb Adams, the Hedelco CEO, indicated that he wanted to speak.  Packard nodded.

‘I’ve never believed that confidentiality should be defended in all circumstances, irrespective of the content of the document.  You’ve all seen the emails.  Some of what Keller was reporting might affect the financial performance of the hospital.  That would certainly interest the press and, by extension, public opinion.  If you think Obamacare is politically charged, try messing with the British National Health Service.’

‘What are you saying, Caleb?’  This was Seaton again.

‘I’m saying that we risk a campaign against us for not revealing what’s in the emails.   The fact that Keller was doing some kind of audit is already public knowledge.  If the publicity continues, there's  also the possibility of formal action.  Politicians could order an inspection of the hospital and that could lead to enforcement action and contractual penalties.’

Joanna Morse, Hedelco’s legal adviser, spoke.  ‘Aren’t we in danger of forgetting why the Scottish police want to see these emails?  It’s clear from their brief to the UK government that they haven’t been able to find a motive for Keller’s murder.  They also go out of their way to say that they are pursuing other lines of enquiry. As Caleb says, we’ve all read the emails.  I can’t see anything in them that amounts to a motive for killing Keller.’

‘So, what would you advise?’, Packard asked.

‘I think I should draft a response to the state Attorney General saying precisely that.  We see nothing in the emails that goes to motive and therefore no reason to depart from our policy on confidentiality.  That might buy us some time until we see if any other lines of enquiry produce results.’

Packard looked unconvinced and said, ‘Only until the press here – The
Globe
, the
Post
, the
Times
– and the television people, as Magnus said, decide to go for us for failing to co-operate in the investigation of the murder of an American citizen abroad.’

‘Cy, can I say something?’  This was Jack Eisner.  ‘My confidential informant has gone to ground, so I don’t have any further details about the murder investigation, but it seems to me that Joanna’s suggestion is worth considering.  What we do know is that some officers from Aberdeen are in Glasgow and, according to the press, though this is denied by the police, they are working with the anti-terror squad who are investigating a major bomb attack on Last Cairngorm and a cyber attack on Mercury Fulfilment.  If that line of enquiry comes up with anything, our emails will become much less significant.’

‘Timescale?’ This was the first intervention by Charlie Fillmore, the Chief Investment Officer. ‘I can keep the lid on this as far as investors are concerned for a few days, but no more.  The sovereign wealth funds in the mid-east haven’t weighed in yet.  When they do, it’s a whole new ball game.’

‘Can we go with Joanna’s suggestion and see if it buys us forty-eight hours?’ Eisner said.  ‘By that time things may have moved on here, and I might have been able to raise my source.’

‘Richard?’  Packard looked at the screen.

‘OK.  But we’ll have to meet again on Wednesday.’

*

‘Jason Sime.’

‘Good afternoon, Jason.  You don’t mind if I call you Jason?’

The caller to the
G & T
newsroom spoke with an American accent that Sime thought he could place to somewhere in the North East of the United States.

‘That depends a bit on who you are.’

‘My name is Mark Dinsdale and I work on the crime desk of the Boston
Globe.
In the United States.  Massachusetts.’

‘I know where Boston is.  But how do I know you’re who you say you are?’

‘Fair enough.  I’d really like to talk to you about the two Americans murdered in Aberdeen.  So why don’t you go online, check out the
Globe
’s number and call me.  You’ll recognise my voice and we’ll be able to talk.  How’s that sound?'

*

The office of the Attorney General for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts received Joanna Morse’s email late in the afternoon after the meeting at Burtonhall.  She had stayed in Wilmington to get it signed off by Friedkin and Packard before getting a cab to Philadelphia International Airport to catch an early evening flight back to Boston.  Caleb Adams had decided to stay until the meeting scheduled for Wednesday.  Joanna would join by video link.

The response attached to the email was brief and to the point and it surprised no-one in he AG’s office. The AG forwarded the email and its attachment to the Department of Justice in Washington.  From there it went to the British Embassy, the FCO and, just as the car that was driving her to Glasgow crossed the Friarton Bridge near Perth at half past ten in the evening, to Vanessa Fiske’s BlackBerry.

By the time the car reached Stirling she had read the attachment.  ‘Fuck it! Hedelco has told the Attorney General to piss off.  According to their legal adviser, there’s nothing in Keller’s emails that “goes to motive” for Keller’s murder, so they see no reason to depart from their company policy on commercial confidentiality.  She also notes that we are following other lines of enquiry. She trusts that these will be productive and that there will be no need to pursue the matter further with Hedelco.  Patronising cow!’

‘Just doing her job, boss.’ Colin MacNee said.  ‘And you did say in the brief that you would not pursue the emails if other enquiries led to a resolution of the case.’

‘Bloody hell, Colin!  Why do you have to be so fucking reasonable?  I’m trying to keep a lot of balls in the air here, and I think I just dropped one.  And we don’t know that this little jaunt won’t turn out to be a wild goose chase.’

‘No, we don’t.  But we also don’t know it will.  There’s nothing to be done about Hedelco just now, so put it to the back of your mind until we see what tomorrow brings.’

‘Christ, that’s like something from
The Sound of Music
!’

Colin said nothing, so she apologised for being bad tempered, leaned back in her seat, and closed her eyes.

* 

The last edition of the Boston
Globe
came off the press at midnight Eastern Daylight Time, just as Vanessa Fiske and Colin MacNee were getting into the cars that would drive them to the known addresses of Simon Mathieson in the West End of Glasgow and Andrew MacIlwraith in Saltcoats.

Dinsdale’s story, with an ‘Exclusive’ tag, was on the front-page, below the fold, with a continuation to page seven.  The headline,
‘Mass Company Blocks Investigation of Maine Man’s Murder’
, was as bad as Cy Packard had feared. The details of how Peter Keller had died all but guaranteed that the story would be picked up throughout the Eastern seaboard and possibly beyond.  The unpopularity of Hedelco in Scotland was laid out and put in context with a description of how the National Health Service works and why the company’s take-over of the management of GRH had been opposed by staff and unions. 

The murder of Harvey Jamieson on the Vermont One oil platform (
‘run by another New England-based corporation, also owned by Burtonhall’
) on the same day as Keller’s and its
‘so far inconclusive investigation’
was also covered, with a clear implication that the two killings might be connected to each other and, through the ownership of the companies, to Burtonhall. 

Dinsdale had been a bit more tentative in the way he covered the Last explosion and the Mercury cyber attack, but the suggestion of a concerted campaign against US companies in Scotland was unmistakeable. 

Neither Hedelco nor Burtonhall had been prepared to comment and the Attorney General’s office had failed to return the reporter’s calls.

Beside the continuation on page seven, in a box, there was a short piece by Jason Sime, described as "
the reporter who broke the story of how Peter Keller died".  
Sime profiled Detective Chief Inspector Vanessa Fiske, "
The detective who solved the fifty-year old Royal Balmoral murder earlier this year’"
and said that she was unlikely to be put off by Hedelco’s refusal to hand over the emails. When she had a murder to solve, she had a reputation for "
letting nothing stand in her way."