Summoning the Dead (DI Bob Valentine #3)(42)

‘I don’t know anything about that.’

‘Do you know what I think, Garry? I think you remember what you want to remember and discard the rest. I think you should be a little less selective and a hell of a lot more honest, because you don’t have any friends in high places looking after you now. Andy Lucas is dead – who was looking out for him?’

Valentine got up from the table and walked towards the door of the interview room, followed by DS McAlister. A uniformed officer opened the door to let them out. No one looked back at Garry Keirns as they left.

In the corridor McAlister spoke. ‘Well that’s put the shits up him, boss.’

‘Somebody has to. He’s holding out on us.’

‘It’s beginning to look obvious, but he might not look so scared if he knew how little we had to go on.’

‘We’ll get there.’ Valentine checked in the interview room across the hall. McCormack and Donnelly were bringing proceedings to a close. As they left, closing the door behind them, Valentine was the first to address them. ‘Well?’

‘He coughed, sir,’ said Donnelly.

‘For what?’

‘He admitted the deal with Keirns was signed two years ago, quite a while before Sandy Thompson passed away.’

‘Did Keirns even have authority to sell the property back then?’

McCormack answered the question. ‘Gowan’s adamant that he did. Blairgowan has documentation showing the deeds were in Keirns’s name when the contract was signed.’

‘So Garry Keirns managed to get his mitts on Sandy’s place before he’d even died. I know for a fact that Sandy wasn’t compos mentis in the years before he died so there must have been some coercion.’

‘Or blackmail,’ said Donnelly.

‘The problem will be proving it,’ said McCormack.

‘There’s no way of proving it – Sandy’s dead. But if Keirns was so worried about how it looked selling to Blairgowan whilst he was alive then he must have something to hide.’

‘Like what, sir?’ said McAlister. ‘I’m not convinced Keirns cares that much what people think of him.’

‘Oh, he cares. But only what certain people think, Ally. If he held off on the Blairgowan deal until Sandy died, it was because someone didn’t like the way it might look and told him so.’





27

‘Let Freddie Gowan go,’ said Valentine. The team watched the DI. Clearly they’d absorbed the information, but they didn’t move.

‘And what about Keirns, boss?’ said McAlister.

‘We can hold him for twenty-four hours without charge, and that’s what I intend to do.’

‘And after that?’

‘A lot can happen in twenty-four hours, Ally. I want to see how he reacts to this new revelation from Gowan about the sale of Ardinsh Farm, but I want him to fester on our little chat before I put that to him.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said McAlister. The team still hadn’t moved.

‘Right, give Gowan his marching orders, then I’ll see you all upstairs for a briefing in the incident room.’

DS McCormack proceeded to the custody sergeant’s desk, and the others followed Valentine on to the stairs.

‘What’s your thinking on all of this now, sir?’ said Donnelly.

‘I’m trying not to think. It’s all such a bloody hotchpotch at the moment I’d only be reacting. We need more to go on, but let’s say Garry Keirns just went from a person of interest to a suspect.’

McAlister and Donnelly exchanged glances. Their expressions were moving towards doubt but neither spoke up.

‘Sir, we’ve nothing solid to charge him with,’ said McAlister.

Valentine halted mid-stride. ‘Do you think I don’t know that?’

‘But you just said . . .’

‘Ally, I can still suspect the wee scrote without having the goods on him. With any luck that’ll come.’ He resumed his path on the stairwell; they were nearing their floor. ‘Get your files together. When Sylvia shows we’ll gather at the board.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Valentine paced through to his office. He was moving with greater purpose, with a sense that time was pressing. At his computer terminal he checked his email for the site picture from Mike Sullivan, but nothing had appeared. He picked up the phone.

‘Mike, it’s Bob . . .’

‘Bernie’s just in the door. I’m scanning the shot as we speak.’

‘Great. How’s it looking?’

‘Bob, it’s better than I thought. You won’t get a solid ID out of it, but there’s distinguishing marks that could sway a jury.’

‘Tell me more.’

‘You’ll see for yourself.’ Sullivan seemed eager to change the subject – he was racing his words out. ‘There’s more too, and you’ll like this even better.’

‘I think I like it already. Go on . . .’

Sullivan coughed away from the phone. ‘Do you remember the list we gave you for the contents we retrieved from the barrel?’

‘The catalogued evidence file, yes, I have it here somewhere.’ Valentine moved papers around on his desk then opened his drawer – the catalogue was sitting on the top. ‘Right, I have it in front of me.’