Denise Mina - Still Midnight

Bannerman smirked. ‘What if it cost that much to ship them?’

This had clearly never ever occurred to Omar. He shrugged, exhausted. ‘It can’t.’

Morrow butt in. ‘Can’t?’

‘Yeah. It can’t cost that.’

‘Why not?’

He shrugged. ‘Just… can’t cost that much.’

She thought about Billal. ‘Why did you tell your brother you were importing silicone chips?’

Omar snorted a laugh. ‘ Silicone chips?’

‘He thought it was chips you were importing.’

‘Billal’s… we don’t talk about business.’ He seemed a bit annoyed about it.

‘Why did you have VAT forms scanned onto your computer?’

‘Oh, well, I know there’s loads of admin, running a business, I was just playing around. Got like a spreadsheet package, payroll, tax forms and stuff came free with it. Just messing about.’ He frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Did your dad buy the shed?’ Bannerman glanced at Morrow.

‘Aye. He took me to PC World and bought the small business package as well.’

It was the most ill-considered business plan she’d ever heard but Omar seemed certain it would work. It occurred to her that Omar was not quite the criminal mastermind they had supposed and yet he was clearly very bright.

Morrow stepped in. ‘Omar, how come you can afford a Lamborghini?’

The lawyer jerked her head around to face him and Omar panicked. ‘Lamborghini?’

‘The Lamborghini,’ said Morrow, calm and enjoying it. ‘How can you afford it if you need your dad to buy a shed for you?’

‘Well,’ he coughed, ‘the Lamborghini…’ he scratched his face. ‘See, with that, the thing is-’

The lawyer leaned across him to Morrow. ‘We need a comfort break.’

‘You’ve just come in.’

‘We need one now.’

‘OK. Let’s take ten minutes then.’ Bannerman noted the time, that they were stopping for a short break and switched off the tape recorder.

The lawyer stood up. ‘Omar and I are going out to the corridor for a moment.’

‘Are we?’

‘Yes,’ she ordered. Omar got up and trotted out after her. He looked scared.

Bannerman and Morrow sat at the table, feeling distinctly like the winning side as Omar and his lawyer whispered in the corridor. Morrow checked her buttons and make-up, flattened her hair and then Bannerman gave her a comradely smile. They knew better than to speak within earshot of the person they were questioning but Morrow shrugged and mouthed ‘Not VAT?’ Bannerman beamed.

The lawyer came back in with her jaw clenched and sat down on the inside this time. Omar followed her sheepishly and sat down where she pointed him to sit.

‘Mr Anwar wants to tell you about the Lamborghini now.’

‘OK,’ said Bannerman slowly, putting the tape back on, getting the details on it and sitting back smugly. ‘So, Omar, you wanted to tell us about the Lamborghini?’

Omar cleared his throat. ‘Yes,’ he said formally, ‘I do want to tell you about it. I have been thinking about ordering a Lamborghini from the Stark-McClure garage in Rosevale Road.’

‘ Thinking?’

‘Well, I’ve done a couple of test drives and I put down a deposit, my dad put it down, as a present for getting a first in my degree.’

‘Deposit?’

‘Aye.’

‘Much?’

‘Two grand.’

‘Is that all?’

‘Yeah, but when the order goes through you have to pay the full amount.’

Bannerman tried not to smirk. ‘And I suppose you have documentation to the effect that your dad put the deposit down for you?’

Omar looked at his lawyer who nodded angrily at him to tell Bannerman.

‘The receipt is in his name and the credit card payment is his. Both receipts are in the strong box my dad keeps on top of the fridge in the kitchen.’

Not sure where to run with the ball Bannerman got angry. ‘They came looking for you, for Bob, who knows you as Bob?’

‘Loads of people. Half the Southside calls me Bob.’

‘Did people at uni call you Bob?’

‘No.’

‘You were in the Young Shields?’

‘Well, I hung about with them a bit. As I said I was getting battered on my way home from school… St Al’s uniform was a bit of a beacon.’

‘How did you leave the Shields?’

‘My dad found out I was hanging about with them and grounded me for six months.’ He looked angry about it and then talked himself round. ‘He was right, he was right to do that actually. I started working hard then, ’cause I was stuck in all the time anyway and that’s when I started doing well at school…’ Thinking about his father, his eyes welled up again. He looked at the three adults around the table. Again Morrow was the only one who didn’t look away. ‘Do you think he’ll be OK?’

She wasn’t one for doling out cheap comfort. ‘We’re doing our utmost,’ she said. ‘Omar, who do you think did this?’

‘I have absolutely no idea. Who has a gun? Isn’t that the big thing? Who could even get a gun like that?’

Bannerman made a play of looking at his notes and then put them down. ‘What else have you lied about?’

Omar opened his hands wide. ‘Nothing, man, swear.’

Bannerman stared at him. ‘Omar,’ he said softly, ‘what else have you lied about?’

Omar looked concerned and turned to his lawyer. ‘I haven’t lied about anything else. I dunno what to say…’

‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I think we’ve done all we can here.’

Suddenly furious, Bannerman slapped his hand loudly on the table. ‘We are questioning you, Mr Anwar. This isn’t a game. We’re attempting to find your dad and you’re supposed to be helping us, not impeding our work.’ Bannerman had judged it wrong, he was too angry, too loud, and everyone sat still around the table. Morrow watched a bubbled fleck of Bannerman’s spit that had landed on the tabletop. The skin thinned and the bubble burst.

Bannerman looked at his notes again, holding them up as if he wanted to hide behind them. He dropped them angrily on the table. ‘The kidnappers called again this evening?’

‘Yes they did,’ said Omar obediently.

‘You offered them forty thousand pounds.’

‘I did.’ Omar seemed afraid to look up. ‘I offered them that, yes.’

‘How did you arrive at that figure?’

‘I went to the bank this afternoon. That’s all the money we have in our bank accounts.’

‘All the money your dad has in his accounts?’

‘They’re family accounts, one’s under the name of his business.’

‘What did the kidnappers say to that?’

‘Said fuck off.’

‘Meaning that’s not enough to get him back?’

‘Yeah.’

Bannerman sat still. ‘Omar, what would you say about a man who had the money to get his father back like that,’ he clicked his fingers, ‘and didn’t pay up?’

Omar frowned at Bannerman’s fingers. ‘Had the money?’

‘A man who had the money sitting in a shoebox in the back room, had plenty of money just sitting about but refused to hand it over.’

‘Why would anyone do that?’

Bannerman shrugged. ‘You tell me. Maybe he hates his dad.’

‘He’s still his dad though.’

‘Maybe he got the money doing something he shouldn’t. Maybe he knows he’ll get in a lot of trouble if he hands the money over. What would you say about someone like that?’

Omar looked up into a corner of the room, considering the scenario, and brought a steady gaze down to Bannerman. ‘I’d say he was a total bastard,’ he said simply.

They both knew it. Of all the grim fucking nights they had spent together in the past ten years, this would be the longest.

Pat couldn’t bring himself to ask about the birthday Eddy had forgotten, or nod that it was the wife’s fault because she didn’t remind Eddy in time. That he hadn’t asked about it meant that a fight was brewing. They’d had fights before, when they were drunk, over money, but they were both angry those times. Only Eddy was angry now. Without discussion, without warning, Pat had shifted away.