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Authors: Quintin Jardine
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place, his team had their first small stroke of luck. An early-shift railway worker, interviewed by uniformed police at the end of his day’s work, produced the first possible sighting of the quarry.
‘Aye, it would be a bit before six o’clock. Ah wis on ma way to that early mornin’ roll shop in Cockburn Street for ma breakfast. Ah was walkin’ over Waverley Bridge when this fella goes tearin’ off doon Market Street as if he had jist landed a big treble, then heard that the bookie was packin’ his suitcase.’
‘Can you describe him?’
‘Well it wis dark, ken, but he looked like wan o’ they ninja fellas. He wis wearin’ a black suit and some sort of black bunnet. Ah couldnae see his face.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Well, like ah say, he goes tearin’ off doon Market Street. Then a car starts up, and this big white motor goes shootin’ back up the hill.’
‘Did you get the number?’
‘Gie’s a break, lads.’
‘Didn’t it occur to you, after two murders that something might have been up?’
‘Naw, wi’ the shifts ah work, ah see odd buggers a’ the time. And onyway, ah’d had a few bevvies the night before. All ah could think about was two fried egg rolls, a mug o’ tea and a fag.’
Skinner seized the statement when it was put before him in his High Street office. ‘Bring him in. Now!’
An hour later, Arthur Murphy, consenting but complaining, found himself in the High Street facing Edinburgh’s most famous copper.
‘Right, Mr Murphy, I’ve read your statement, and I thank you for it. Maybe you can recall a few more things if you concentrate, and put your healthy eater’s breakfast out of your mind. For example, was the fellow carrying any sort of weapon?’
The man knitted his brows and thought hard for a minute or so. ‘Well he’d this sort of sheath or holster thing at his back, and there could hiv been somethin’ in that.’
‘That’s a good start. Now what about the car? What make was it?’
‘God, a dinna’ ken yin frae anither!’
‘Well was it a Sierra?’
‘Naw, it wisnae yin o’ thon.’
‘Vauxhall?’
‘Naw, no that either. Ah tell, ye,’ said Murphy with a sudden flash of inspiration, ‘it could have been yin o’ thon German motors, an Oddy, is that it? Or maybe it was yin o’ thon Jap jobs.’
Skinner sighed inwardly. That was as much as they were going to get from the man, and even that might have been dredged from his imagination.
‘Right, Mr Murphy, that’s all. Thank you for coming in, you’ve been a great help. We’ll arrange a lift home for you.’
‘Eh, could yis jist take me back tae the pub where ye lifted me from?’
‘Fine.’
Skinner shook his head as their first witness left the room.
‘Doesn’t take us much further, does it, Andy?’
Martin had slipped into the room at the beginning of Skinner’s questioning of the bewildered Murphy.
‘A wee bit, sir. We can tell the troops to look out for a white vehicle, possibly an Audi. And for a man in dark clothing. But of course the driver of the car wasn’t necessarily our man.’
‘He had to be. If that had been anyone else getting into his car, he’d have been face to face with our man, and then he’d have been a goner. Tonight, we double last night’s strength, in the area from the Castle to Holyrood Palace. Everyone warned about the car. And I want a dozen armed men in the area. That includes you and me.’
13
Rachel Jameson arrived home at 6.45 p.m. She still ached from the loss of Mortimer, but she had decided against asking the Dean to grant her leave from practice. Instead, she had chosen work as her solace. In her line of business, that had meant acting for the defence in a nasty rape trial in the High Court in Glasgow.
The first day had been taken up by the empanelling of the jury, and the opening statements of counsel. The second, which had ended that afternoon at 4.25 p.m., had seen the alleged victim spend four and a half hours in the witness
‘Aye, it would be a bit before six o’clock. Ah wis on ma way to that early mornin’ roll shop in Cockburn Street for ma breakfast. Ah was walkin’ over Waverley Bridge when this fella goes tearin’ off doon Market Street as if he had jist landed a big treble, then heard that the bookie was packin’ his suitcase.’
‘Can you describe him?’
‘Well it wis dark, ken, but he looked like wan o’ they ninja fellas. He wis wearin’ a black suit and some sort of black bunnet. Ah couldnae see his face.’
‘What happened then?’
‘Well, like ah say, he goes tearin’ off doon Market Street. Then a car starts up, and this big white motor goes shootin’ back up the hill.’
‘Did you get the number?’
‘Gie’s a break, lads.’
‘Didn’t it occur to you, after two murders that something might have been up?’
‘Naw, wi’ the shifts ah work, ah see odd buggers a’ the time. And onyway, ah’d had a few bevvies the night before. All ah could think about was two fried egg rolls, a mug o’ tea and a fag.’
Skinner seized the statement when it was put before him in his High Street office. ‘Bring him in. Now!’
An hour later, Arthur Murphy, consenting but complaining, found himself in the High Street facing Edinburgh’s most famous copper.
‘Right, Mr Murphy, I’ve read your statement, and I thank you for it. Maybe you can recall a few more things if you concentrate, and put your healthy eater’s breakfast out of your mind. For example, was the fellow carrying any sort of weapon?’
The man knitted his brows and thought hard for a minute or so. ‘Well he’d this sort of sheath or holster thing at his back, and there could hiv been somethin’ in that.’
‘That’s a good start. Now what about the car? What make was it?’
‘God, a dinna’ ken yin frae anither!’
‘Well was it a Sierra?’
‘Naw, it wisnae yin o’ thon.’
‘Vauxhall?’
‘Naw, no that either. Ah tell, ye,’ said Murphy with a sudden flash of inspiration, ‘it could have been yin o’ thon German motors, an Oddy, is that it? Or maybe it was yin o’ thon Jap jobs.’
Skinner sighed inwardly. That was as much as they were going to get from the man, and even that might have been dredged from his imagination.
‘Right, Mr Murphy, that’s all. Thank you for coming in, you’ve been a great help. We’ll arrange a lift home for you.’
‘Eh, could yis jist take me back tae the pub where ye lifted me from?’
‘Fine.’
Skinner shook his head as their first witness left the room.
‘Doesn’t take us much further, does it, Andy?’
Martin had slipped into the room at the beginning of Skinner’s questioning of the bewildered Murphy.
‘A wee bit, sir. We can tell the troops to look out for a white vehicle, possibly an Audi. And for a man in dark clothing. But of course the driver of the car wasn’t necessarily our man.’
‘He had to be. If that had been anyone else getting into his car, he’d have been face to face with our man, and then he’d have been a goner. Tonight, we double last night’s strength, in the area from the Castle to Holyrood Palace. Everyone warned about the car. And I want a dozen armed men in the area. That includes you and me.’
13
Rachel Jameson arrived home at 6.45 p.m. She still ached from the loss of Mortimer, but she had decided against asking the Dean to grant her leave from practice. Instead, she had chosen work as her solace. In her line of business, that had meant acting for the defence in a nasty rape trial in the High Court in Glasgow.
The first day had been taken up by the empanelling of the jury, and the opening statements of counsel. The second, which had ended that afternoon at 4.25 p.m., had seen the alleged victim spend four and a half hours in the witness
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