‘I’m not personally familiar with the first case, but any complaint will have been followed up and I shall have you informed of the outcome. And as you know, the attack on Mr Lindsay is under intensive investigation as we speak.’
‘That’s all very well, but since his injuries were, mercifully, minor, we can’t expend excessive police time on it, unless you can produce solid evidence of attempted murder which, I have to say, seems extremely unlikely when the result has only been a precautionary night in hospital which was in any case largely because of an accidental head injury.
‘No, the bigger picture of knife crime has to be our priority before we have more of our citizens attacked. What steps are you—?’
He cut across her ruthlessly. ‘We are both busy people and I suggest you contact my secretary if you want to arrange a general discussion.
‘I am here to ask you about your relationship with Marcus Lindsay.’
‘Relationship? What is this?’ Her slightly bulbous eyes bulged now with temper – or was it alarm? She had started fiddling with one of her shoulder-length dark blonde curls.
‘This is an investigation into an attempted murder. We are talking to everyone in recent contact with Mr Lindsay, and your name is on that list. I know you would wish to give us every assistance.’
She was still glaring at him. ‘Naturally, though I can’t imagine what information you could think I might have. Our acquaintance, when I was in Glasgow, was of the slightest, and our only recent contact was a phone call in which he complained about police harassment. As you no doubt know, I passed that on to DI Fleming.’
That, in fact, had never reached his desk. Fleming had presumably taken care that it didn’t, but he wasn’t going to betray her. ‘And why, I wonder,’ he said, ‘did he phone you instead of me? That would be a more normal course of action – unless, of course, it was on the basis of your friendship?’
Bailey was proud of that question; it caught her by surprise. ‘He didn’t – er – he probably didn’t want to cause too much trouble – just a word in someone’s ear.’
‘I see. It’s not long since you moved here. You keep in touch, then?’
‘No, no, not really.’
He couldn’t quite understand why, but he’d definitely touched a nerve. Doggedly, he persisted, ‘So how did he know you were here, and phone you, if you didn’t keep in touch?’
Milne was actually becoming flustered. ‘Someone here must have mentioned it, I suppose.’
‘But who is likely to have known he would know you?’ Bailey was honestly puzzled.
‘Perhaps friends in Glasgow . . .’ she began, then stopped. ‘Wait a moment. I’ve just remembered. I – I think, perhaps, I may have phoned him.’
Bailey looked astonished. ‘Phoned him – to see if he had a complaint to make about police harassment? I confess, I would find that very strange behaviour, very strange indeed – something I would need to take up with the Chief Constable.’
‘No, no! Of course not! I – I heard he was in the area, phoned to ask how he was, and he mentioned this complaint in passing. That’s all. Stupid of me to have forgotten. I apologize if I unintentionally misled you.’
She was quite confident again, challenging him with her cold blue eyes, and he still didn’t know what that had really been about. He was beginning to wish Fleming had taken it on herself.
‘Right,’ he said, trying to regain the initiative. ‘Now – your friendship with Mr Lindsay. My information is that you all but denied to DI Fleming that you knew him.’
Milne tossed back her hair and laughed. ‘Did she say that? How ridiculous – just because I am not someone who chooses to claim friendship with celebrities based on nothing more than a couple of chance encounters. Our “relationship”, as you so picturesquely term it, was that we met at functions. That’s all.
‘And as you said, superintendent, we’re busy people. So—?’ She raised very thin, pencilled brows.
Procedure. You couldn’t go wrong with procedure. ‘Just a couple more routine questions. Do you know anyone who would have a grudge against Marcus Lindsay, from your Glasgow days?’
‘I can’t imagine who would. He was always very charming.’ She was smiling faintly now.
She had got away from the sensitive area, and Bailey couldn’t quite see how to get back to it.
‘Perhaps you could give me an account of your movements last night?’
‘Oh dear, superintendent, you may have to lock me up after all.’ She was laughing at him. ‘I haven’t a soul who can bear witness that I was in all evening, doing a bit of work, then reading and listening to opera.’
She would be the opera type, Bailey thought bitterly. Wagner, probably – he could almost see her with one of those horned helmets on her head. He got up, thanking her formally for her help.
Just as he reached the door, she said, ‘Oh, and I won’t forget about an appointment to discuss what we need to do to make your work more effective. I have serious doubts about DI Fleming.’
Bailey mumbled something and left the battlefield to go back to Headquarters and lick his wounds.
13
DS MacNee was waiting for Fleming beside one of the interview rooms. ‘He’s in there,’ he greeted her, and she looked through the little inset window.
Gavin Hodge was slumped in one of the bolted-down chairs in the stark room, legs stretched out and hands in the pockets of his chinos, looking both sullen and scared.
Fleming turned to MacNee. ‘Any chance he’s our man?’
‘Could be. No alibi, alone all evening. Just not sure. He thinks I took him in because he knew Lindsay was stabbed without being told—’
‘Sounds promising – apart from the fact that you’ve no one to corroborate.’ Fleming showed her annoyance.
‘Aye, well . . . didn’t know he was going to say a daft thing like that, did I?’ He grinned hopefully, then catching her eye hurried on, ‘Anyway, gossip in the local store is how he knows, he says, and it’s maybe right – not that it puts him in the clear even so.
‘What I’m really wondering is why he was like a hen on a hot griddle when I arrived and why he tried to kid on he knew nothing about it. It’s all round the place that Lindsay’s dead, Jock Naismith says, and Hodge looked shocked when he heard he wasn’t. So—’ MacNee shrugged his shoulders.
‘So either he’d heard the rumour, or else thought he’d killed him. Or possibly both, I suppose. Let’s work him over.’
‘What are we waiting for? Oh, just one other thing – got a son in New Zealand he didn’t like me asking about.’
‘Black sheep, maybe,’ Fleming suggested. ‘Presumably if he’s in New Zealand he’s nothing to do with this. Let’s go.’
As MacNee went through the formalities for the recording, Fleming observed the man opposite, who was not meeting her eyes. He was unprepossessing, big and flabby, with thinning fair hair combed forward to disguise a rapidly expanding forehead. He had watery blue eyes with heavy bags underneath them and his jawline sagged into his bull-like neck. Age or self-indulgence – or possibly even both – had not dealt with him kindly.
MacNee joined them, and Fleming began. ‘Thank you for coming in this morning, Mr Hodge. We appreciate your cooperation.’
‘Cooperation!’ the man said bitterly. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
Fleming raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you alleging an element of compulsion?’
‘No, no – apart from your sergeant refusing to accept a perfectly innocent explanation and leave it at that. I hope you’re going to show a bit more intelligence.’
‘I understand that you showed special knowledge of the attack on Mr Lindsay.’
‘Yes, but I can explain it – I did explain it. I heard it in the local store. You can check.’
‘We certainly will. And I’m sure you will prove to be right.’
Hodge smirked in triumph at MacNee. ‘Well, thank God for a woman with some sense. Never thought I’d live to hear myself say that! Can I go now?’
The look Fleming gave him would have frozen boiling water. ‘It’s hardly relevant. What I want to know is why you lied about it.’
The change in his expression was almost comical. ‘Lied? I – I didn’t lie—’
‘Sorry, of course not. You didn’t lie, you just pretended.’ Her tone was icily scornful. ‘When DS MacNee told you what had happened, you pretended you didn’t know anything about the attack on Lindsay. Then you showed surprise on hearing he was alive. Did you leave him for dead on the terrace last night, Mr Hodge? You have no alibi.’
MacNee stifled a smile. He almost felt sorry for the poor bugger, but he’d walked into it with that remark about women.
‘I didn’t – I didn’t! Of course I didn’t! Why should I want to kill him?’
‘My information is that there was considerable ill-feeling between you, dating back some years.’
That was news to MacNee. Oh, Big Marge was good, no doubt about that. He could just sit back and enjoy the show.
And she had visibly rocked Hodge with that one. The broken veins in his cheeks stood out against his sudden pallor. ‘That’s – that’s rubbish. I don’t say we were best mates, but like I said to your sergeant, until this week I hadn’t set eyes on the man for years.’
‘Let’s go back to why you lied – sorry,
pretended
– to DS MacNee.’
The man put his hands to his head. ‘Look, give me a moment. You’re getting me confused.’
Never! How could that have happened? MacNee was tempted to say it aloud, but a slight gesture from Fleming stopped him.
Hodge began, ‘When your sergeant said something about news, I didn’t know what he was talking about, I swear it. Yes, I’d heard about Marcus – but why would that be anything to do with me? Then it got difficult to stop him and say I knew. Seemed easier just to go along with it – I didn’t think it mattered. And anyway, it was a bit undignified to admit I’d been listening to village gossip – a man in my position.’
‘Which is—?’ Fleming asked politely.
‘Oh, well known locally, that sort of thing.’
‘Rich, he means,’ MacNee put in coarsely. ‘But very sensitive to the social demands that makes on him.’ He was beginning to enjoy himself. Fleming flashed him a warning glance; he smiled blandly. Why should she have all the fun?
Hodge ignored him, speaking directly to Fleming. ‘So you can see, inspector, that this is merely a misunderstanding which your sergeant has inflated out of all proportion—’
‘Funny you should be so edgy, then, when I came to the door,’ MacNee put in.
‘Edgy? I don’t know what you mean. I was surprised to see you, that’s all. You say I was edgy, I say I was surprised – it’s a matter of opinion. I’d advise you to be on firmer ground before you start making allegations, sergeant.’ Putting his own spin on the story had given him confidence and he was starting to bluster.
It was an unwise tactic to adopt with MacNee, who leaned back in his chair and drawled, ‘Oh, right enough, that was just a wee suspicion I had. But that wasn’t when you were surprised. You were surprised when I told you Lindsay wasn’t dead. Like the boss said, did you leave him for dead on the terrace last night?’
‘This – this is outrageous! I have already denied that allegation, most forcibly. And it seems based on my knowing he was stabbed – I’ve explained that. In any case, it’s only your word against mine that I said it at all.’
His look of triumph turned to uncertainty as MacNee smiled. His smile affected a lot of people that way.
‘Why do you think I didn’t arrest you, Mr Hodge? Of course that wasn’t evidence, and what you said about how you knew about the stabbing may be right enough – doesn’t prove anything, either way.
‘But something I did want on tape, and with DI Fleming here, was what you’d got to say about something that may be a link.’
‘Ailsa Grant.’ Fleming picked up the cue, and was intrigued to see the man actually jump.
‘For the record, note that the witness was visibly startled,’ MacNee said, and shook his head reprovingly. ‘There you go again – being surprised. Shocked, even – maybe you should see the doctor about your nerves? Did you not know we were reopening the case of Ailsa’s murder?’
‘I – I’m not sure.’
‘Oh, come now, sir! You seem to be suffering from a lot of confusion about what you know and don’t know.’ Fleming’s voice had a harsh edge to it. ‘We understand Marcus Lindsay was going to tell you. Did you know or didn’t you?’
Wretchedly, he stammered, ‘My – my wife might have known. Marcus phoned her the other day and she said something about it.’ It didn’t sound convincing.
‘Is that a yes?’
‘I suppose so. Vaguely, you know.’
‘That’ll be right,’ MacNee said sarcastically. ‘So vaguely that you were worried when I turned up, you went deliberately blank when asked about enemies in Lindsay’s past – and you knew fine about the accusations against him after Ailsa’s murder, didn’t you? And just now, when DI Fleming mentioned her name, you jumped as if she’d stuck a pin in your backside.
‘So let’s discuss what it is about Ailsa that gets to you, shall we, before we go on to your activities when you were all alone in the house last night – oh, except for when you went over to stab Marcus Lindsay, as you said yourself.’
‘For God’s sake, man! That was only a joke!’ Hodge howled. ‘You’re confusing me!’ He drew a deep, shaking breath, then, like a cornered rat, came out fighting. ‘I came here today voluntarily to help you, but I haven’t appreciated the way I have been treated. I can give you five minutes more of my time, then I’m leaving. If there’s anything further to ask me you can do it in the presence of my solicitor.