G. Moffat - Blindside

Irvine looked around. Not much of a place for celebrations.

‘Did they?’

‘What, you want the details?’

Irvine said nothing.

‘They didn’t stay here long. They went out.’

‘And they took the stuff with them?’

Murray nodded.

‘Had he sold you drugs before?’

She shook her head.

‘He showed up a couple of weeks ago with Joanna. She was the one who knew him. Said he had better stuff than anyone else.’

‘And he didn’t take cash from Joanna for it?’

‘You want a prize for figuring that out?’

There was a knock at the door. Murray looked at Irvine, her eyes wide with fear.

Another knock, louder this time.

Irvine held her hand up, telling Murray to stay where she was. It didn’t sound like whoever was out there had gone away.

Irvine’s mobile rang. It was Armstrong.

‘Where are you?’ he said.

‘I’m in Suzie Murray’s flat. Someone was here. I think it might have been the guy who dumped Joanna Lewski’s body. And I think maybe he’s come back.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘What?’

‘Well, I mean, I’m standing outside her door waiting for someone to answer and I’m the only one here.’

‘That was you?’

‘Yeah.’

Irvine ended the call and went to open the door. Armstrong looked at her face and winced.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Irvine almost shouted. ‘Why didn’t you say anything when you knocked?’

‘It’s not something I’m in the habit of doing.’

‘Wait here.’

Irvine went back to the living room and gave Murray one of her cards. Told her to call if she could remember anything else that might help. Asked if she had anywhere else to stay in case he came back.

‘What do you care?’ Murray said. ‘And, anyway, there’s nowhere else.’

‘I’ll have someone call in on you. Take a full statement.’

‘Look, lady. No offence, right, but I’m not telling you any more.’

Irvine stared at her.

‘Want to know how I keep out of trouble? I don’t get involved. You’ll have to sort it out without me.’

Irvine wanted to say more, couldn’t work out what might help.

‘Let’s go,’ Armstrong said, from the hall outside the flat.

Irvine turned to look at him.

‘She’s said all that she’s going to say,’ Armstrong told her. ‘That’s the end of the story.’

Murray shrugged at Irvine.

‘Unbelievable,’ Irvine said, stepping out into the hall and closing the door to the flat.

‘Where to now?’ Armstrong asked.

‘You’re taking me to the hospital to get this looked at,’ she said, pointing at her face.

‘It wasn’t my fault.’

Irvine stopped at the top of the stairs, looked around and kneeled to lift the canister of pepper spray from the floor.

‘Was lucky I had this.’

Armstrong looked at her and shrugged.

‘Sorry.’

Irvine turned and went down the stairs without waiting for him.

Logan was sitting at the Cahills’ dining table when he heard the phone ring through in the study. He looked at his watch and saw that it was after nine. Wondered why Becky hadn’t called yet.

Cahill got up and went out to answer the phone. Noises sounded from upstairs where Ellie had gone to play with the Cahill children. Sam looked up at the ceiling and then at Logan, smiling.

‘How’s she doing? Ellie, I mean.’

‘Pretty good. We haven’t been to the counsellor for a while and she’s not quite as raw now when we go to Penny’s grave.’

‘She’s awful grown-up now.’

Logan nodded.

‘You’re doing a good job. I mean, of bringing her up.’

‘I hope so. But how can you tell, really?’

‘Ask me that again in twenty years’ time.’

It was Logan’s turn to smile.

Cahill came into the room holding the phone to his ear and motioned for Logan to follow him. They walked briskly to the study where Cahill activated the speaker on the phone base station.

Logan heard a woman’s voice before Cahill cut across her.

‘Melanie, I’ve got you on the speaker now with Logan. He’s the lawyer who’s coming over with me.’

They exchanged brief greetings before Cahill spoke again.

‘What did you find?’

‘I don’t know if it’s anything. But you said it didn’t matter how small it was.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘It’s just this one thing. I went through Tim’s stuff and couldn’t find anything. Then I remembered that I hadn’t checked our e-mail account since, you know…’

No one said anything.

‘Anyway, I logged on and found this e-mail which Tim sent from his phone. It’s timed just before the flight. He must have sent it here in a hurry.’

‘What does it say?’

‘It says “D. Hunter, Denver”. That’s all.’

Cahill looked at Logan and shook his head.

‘Does it mean anything to you?’ Melanie asked.

‘No. What about you?’

‘Nothing. I never heard the name before. You think it might be connected?’

‘I don’t know,’ Cahill said. ‘The timing is certainly interesting. Like he was sending himself something that he thought was important. And also maybe that he wanted someone else to see if anything happened to him. Can you forward that e-mail to me?’

‘Okay. What’s your e-mail address?’

Cahill told her and said he would check it out and call her back if he found anything.

‘What do you think?’ Cahill asked Logan after ending the call.

Logan shrugged.

‘Sounds like it might be something. The timing, you know.’

Cahill nodded and dialled another number on the phone. A man with a strong Glasgow accent answered.

‘Bruce, it’s Alex. Can you look at something for me?’

‘Sure. What is it?’

‘I need you to check any connection between Tim Stark and a D. Hunter from Denver.’

‘Not much to go on.’

‘It’s all we have.’

‘That’s it? No documents or anything?’

‘That’s it.’

‘When do you need it?’

‘Tomorrow is fine. Or the day after. I’ll be in the States so call my mobile.’

Cahill ended the call, opened his laptop and waited for it to boot, drumming his fingers on his desk. He accessed his e-mail and waited for the message from Melanie Stark to download. He clicked on it and printed off a copy.

Logan got up and went to the printer, lifting the page from the tray and handing it to Cahill.

‘Doesn’t look like much of a lead,’ Logan said.

Cahill looked over the printed copy of the e-mail and when he was done he forwarded the e-mail to Bruce and shut down his laptop.

‘What’s the plan tomorrow?’ Logan asked.

‘I’ll come pick you up. We can leave my car at the airport.’

‘And after we get there?’

‘We play it by ear.’

‘You realise that it’s likely our names will raise a flag now with Homeland Security when we get over there and hit the US customs’ desk?’

‘I’m kind of counting on it. I mean, where else do we start?’

‘That’s your idea? You make enough of a nuisance of yourself that they lock us in a small room at the airport for several hours and threaten to send us straight back here.’

‘Something like that, yeah. I find it works most of the time.’

Logan stared at him.

‘Look, they’re not going to send us to Guantanamo Bay or anything.’

Logan’s eyes widened.

‘And we need to get in touch with whichever law enforcement agency is really in charge of this thing. They will come to speak to us.’

‘If they don’t?’

‘We make our presence felt over there. Go see the Feds and the cops and anyone else that we can think of.’