A Measure of Trouble (Alex Warren Murder Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  “Did he take his car into Glasgow last night?”

  “Yes, he drove out and his car wasn't in the garage this morning. I know because I went out to the newsagent first thing this morning, myself.”

  “He drove out of the distillery yesterday afternoon but he didn't return later by car.”

  “So?”

  “His body was found there. We want to know how he got there.”

  “Maybe he walked or maybe someone else drove him in.”

  “He'd still have needed to leave the car somewhere and we haven't found it yet. Security has no record of him entering and no-one saw him. Security say there have been several other occasions when they've found Hector on the premises with no record of how he'd gotten in. They asked him but he refused to explain. He sent them away with a flea in their ear.”

  “I'm not surprised. He wouldn't have been too impressed if they'd allowed him in without having a record of it.”

  “That's the point. They knew he was in but had no idea how he'd managed it and they were trying to find out.”

  “Maybe he used the tunnel,” Georgina conjectured.

  “What tunnel? I've not heard about this before.”

  “It's a very old tunnel and, if I remember correctly, it runs from somewhere around the shop area, goes under the hill then comes out on the far side. The land there is owned by my father, it's part of his farm. There's a small building on the far side of the hill, more of a shelter really, and there's a farm track that runs by it. The story goes that the tunnel was originally built as an escape route, back when it was illegal to make whisky. It was there in case the still ever got raided. Then later it was used to smuggle out product and hide it from the excise man, but that was a long, long time ago. Everything's legitimate now.”

  “How did you know about it?”

  “When we were young, my brothers and I used to be taken into the still room when we weren't at school. We used to make our own games and we were always looking for good hiding places. I think it was Quentin who first found the tunnel. After that we played there all the time. It was cold and dark and not very tall but we used to have great fun. We asked father about it and he told us the history. But it was kept as our special secret. That all happened more years ago than I care to remember. I've not heard anyone mention it in years.”

  “Did you tell Hector about it?”

  “No, not that I can remember, no, I'm certain that I didn't.”

  “How might he have found out?”

  “I really couldn't say. I can't imagine father or Quentin would have said anything and Stanley was so young at the time I doubt he'd even have remembered. No, come to think of it, Stanley wouldn't ever go in the tunnel. He was too scared. He always was a bit claustrophobic. I suppose Hector may have come across it when the building was being refurbished a few years back. I can't think of any other explanation.”

  “We'll certainly check it out. Maybe once we find Hector's car then we'll have a better idea. What was it that he drove?”

  “A Jaguar, it's an XK8, a blue one. I can get you the registration if you want.”

  “Yes, that would be helpful.”

  Georgina fished out the information and Mary scribbled it onto her notepad.

  “We'd like to ask you some more delicate questions, if we may?”

  Georgina raised her head impassively. “Yes, go ahead. We'll need to deal with this sometime, so may as well get it out of the way.”

  “Can you tell us about your relationship with your husband?”

  “What's to tell? You probably know already or if you don't you'll easily find out so you're as well to hear it from me.”

  “Please go on.”

  “Hector and I have been married for twenty years. I was in my twenties when we met. I was working in the office and he was one of our suppliers. He had his own company and he sold us packaging. I was quite young and innocent back then and he seemed so suave and sophisticated. He was a good looking young man and I was flattered when he asked me out. Daddy wasn't too happy about it. He said I could do better and Hector would never amount to much. When I fell pregnant Daddy was livid. He threatened to throw me out without a bean. Hector said he'd take care of me and offered to elope, but then Daddy agreed to the wedding.

  “Hector's business had problems and he closed it down. It was a limited company but there were some creditors who threatened to cause bother. Hector said to let them do their worst but Daddy paid them off. He said it was the only way to make them go away without it hurting the family reputation. Daddy gave Hector a job in the office, my job actually, because I took maternity leave and never properly went back.”

  “Did you want to go back?”

  “I've asked myself the same question and I'm not really sure what the true answer is. I needed the time off to bring up the children and that was really what I wanted to do, at least while they were young. I missed being in the office though because I liked the interaction and the feeling of responsibility, and besides, I was really good at my job. Although Hector took over managing the office, he never truly understood what was going on. Quite often he had to ask me what to do or how to handle different situations.”

  “We were told he was an accountant. Surely he should have known how to run the office?”

  “Yes, he claimed to be an accountant, but he wasn't really. He'd taken some bookkeeping courses and he'd bought a fake diploma from some American outfit who claimed to be a university, but he wasn't a qualified accountant or anything like that and he didn't really understand accounts. He needed a calculator to count his toes. He was useless at arithmetic and that didn't help.”

  Alex noted the bitterness in her voice. He was acutely aware that only a few moments ago he'd told this woman her husband was dead. She'd shown no emotion and now she was revealing his shortcomings. It didn't seem like a normal reaction. Perhaps she was in shock or maybe she was just very detached. In any event, Alex was happy to be gathering information. Much of it may be irrelevant but he'd gladly take it all for now and later he could sift through the dross looking for diamonds.

  “After the boys started school, I offered to go back in part-time but Hector talked me out of it and Daddy agreed with him. It must have been the first time they'd agreed on anything so I could hardly fight it. I needed something to stimulate my mind. I wanted to be a person again and not just the boys' mother so I started working as a volunteer for the local hospice charity. To start with, I was working in their shop but then they moved me into the office and for years now I've been running it. It's just something I'm good at.”

  “And Hector was happy for you to be doing this while he continued to run the distillery office?” Alex enquired, trying to keep her a little bit more on track.

  “Yes, he didn't mind. By this time, he wasn't too interested in what I was doing. Relations between us had grown rather frosty. Hector had wanted to be a bit more experimental in our lovemaking. I didn't mind a bit of adventure but his tastes and requests became more and more bizarre so I said no.”

  “What…”

  “I'm not prepared to go into detail, but he wanted me to share our bed with other men and women. I flatly refused and it was only afterwards I found he'd being playing away from home. It wasn't that he was having an affair. It was nothing as dignified as that. He was putting himself about at every opportunity. It was only then that I discovered he'd been at it for years. He'd even tried to seduce my sixteen year old niece while I'd been pregnant with our second child. He didn't seem to care who he slept with, and when he couldn't find someone to seduce, he'd consorted with whores.”

  For the first time since they'd started talking, Alex could see emotion in Georgina's face. Her pale cheeks had become flushed and she was spitting out the words with venom.

  “Once I knew what he'd been up to, I wouldn't let him near me. God knows what diseases he'd be bringing home. We had a massive row and I told him to leave but he refused to go. He did at least move into one of the spare bedro
oms but he enjoyed his standard of living too much to give up on it without a fight and I didn't have the strength for one, not then. I looked to Daddy for support but he didn't want to get involved. Hector had always been a good father and Daddy was very big on the importance of family. He was brought up strictly as a Catholic and he doesn't approve of divorce. I suspect he's had his own secret relationships over the years. I thought it strange because Daddy had so strongly disapproved of Hector in the beginning and I was sure he still didn't like him, but they seemed to have formed some sort of reluctant acceptance of each other over the years. I don't know if maybe Hector had found out something that Daddy didn't want to get out.

  “Anyway, in the end Hector and I just agreed to co-exist, living in the same house, and Hector kept on working at the distillery. I agreed to let him stay provided he never brought any of his `friends' back to our house and on condition he was very discreet about his philandering.

  “Quentin did try to get involved though. He wanted to get Hector out, but it was so obvious what he was trying to do. He didn't care about me. He just wanted to secure his own position as Daddy's next in charge and to do so at my cost. I never forgave him for that. That's why, when Daddy took ill, I supported Hector becoming managing director. It was more to stand in Quentin's way than it was true support for Hector.”

  Alex felt a vibration against his leg and realised it was a text coming in. He'd turned his phone to silent before leaving the car. He slipped the device from his pocket and sneaked a glance at the screen.

  “R U OK for swim tonight,” he read and realised his younger son Andrew was checking if their planned evening was still going ahead.

  Alex returned the phone without replying but he made a mental note to text back as soon as he was clear of the interview. The reminder of his own disjointed family was a timely one, making Alex realise that relationship problems are seldom down to the singular fault of one party.

  “Could you tell us where you were last night between the hours of eleven pm and four am?”

  “I was in my bed. I watched a film on DVD until about midnight and then I went to bed.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, alone,” Georgina spat back, her face slightly flushed.

  “Was anyone else in the house to corroborate this?”

  “No, Agnes only works here through the day.”

  “And do you now have another boyfriend or partner?”

  Georgina looked up sharply, “I hardly think that's any of your business.”

  “You have to realise that this is potentially a murder investigation. We need to identify anyone who could have a motive.”

  “I'll keep that in mind,” she replied her head involuntarily slowly nodding but nevertheless yielding no further information.

  “Well, I think that's as far as we can take matters for just now,” Alex said while rising from his seat.

  The dogs were immediately on their feet and escorted Alex and Mary to the door.

  Chapter 5

  Alex, taking advantage of the opportunity for a moment's privacy, pressed the remote to unlock his car and ushered Mary inside. Then he opened his mobile and pressed the speed-dial code for Andrew's number. He listened to six rings followed by the metallic tones of the outgoing voicemail message.

  When his turn to speak came, he replied, “I opened a new case today and it could be a big one. I may be delayed but I'm still hoping to be able to pick you up before seven. Please be ready for me then and see if you can get Craig to do the same. That's the plan. I'll call back if there's any change.” Concerned that Andrew might not check his messages, Alex also sent a text merely stating, “Check your voicemail.”

  Alex thrust the phone back in his pocket, climbed behind the wheel and turned the ignition in one fluid movement. “What did you make of that?” he enquired.

  “It had a real wow factor. I've never been in a house like that before. My, how the other half live.”

  “It wasn't the house I was asking about, it was Mrs Mathewson. And I can pretty much guarantee it's nowhere near half the people who live like that, half of one percent more like.”

  “Sorry, Sir. She was a strange one. A real cold fish. I've heard talk of the wealthy hiding their emotions, the `never let the plebs see your weaknesses bit,' but her reaction just didn't seem natural. We told her that her husband was dead, and yeah, true they weren't living as husband and wife, but I think we'd have got more reaction if we'd said one of her dogs had been knocked over.”

  “Yes, I'm sure we would.”

  “Do you think maybe she knew already before we went round? Maybe someone phoned her, or maybe she was involved in the killing.” Mary was getting excited by her own speculations.

  “You may be right and she already knew but I think it unlikely she was involved. If she had been, she'd probably have made a better job of feigning surprise so as to cover up. She's an intelligent woman and if she was involved she wouldn't have wanted to bring suspicion on herself.”

  “Unless it's a double bluff,” Mary conjectured, her eyes sparkling.

  “I think you've been watching too many `B' movies,” Alex quipped while his foot stroked the accelerator and he directed the car back towards the distillery.

  Only a few minutes later, he turned his Santa Fe into the avenue and was surprised to recognise a familiar vehicle travelling only a short distance in front. The hardtop was on the blue Mazda MX5 as it had needed to be since the start of the year. It was Sandra's car. She'd previously driven a more functional Ford Mondeo but only a few months before she'd traded up to the flashy sports car. Alex was surprised to see her as she was meant to have the day off.

  They pulled into adjacent parking spaces and were out of their cars in seconds, Alex's eyes studying every movement of Sandra's athletic and lithe frame as she climbed up from the roadster and moved towards him. The breeze caught her straight, jet black hair and it bobbed in the air behind her, leaving an unfettered view of her pretty face. The stern professional expression Alex had maintained for the investigation faltered and his eyes softened.

  “Are you following me?” Sandra's appearance was lit up by a broad grin and her amusement was only heightened seeing Alex's quizzical expression.

  “What are you doing here? You're meant to be flat hunting today.”

  “It's a long story and I can't wait to tell you all the details, but I was successful with the first viewing so I cancelled the others. What's even better is I can move in tomorrow morning. The letting agent's office was just round the corner from Pitt Street and I dropped in to tell you. That's when I heard you were out here. I thought maybe you'd want some help and I was kind of hoping that maybe I could work the rest of today and take tomorrow morning off instead?”

  “It's okay with me, but Christ, the paperwork will be a nightmare to keep the admin records right. How about we just do it but leave the files showing you having today off? We can always do the forms later if anyone picks up on it.”

  “Fine by me.” Mary was walking with them and Alex sent her on ahead, instructing her to get hold of Sanjay and Phil for a meeting, but also to give him a moment alone with Sandra.

  “Now tell me about the flat.”

  “No, it will take too long but I'll tell you later. Something important though. We've got a bit of a crisis back at the ranch and you and the team need to know about it.”

  “Okay, you'd better tell me first then maybe bring Sanjay and Phil in on it too.”

  “It's about the case we broke last week. The armed robbery, you know? With the Asian boys who'd held up the string of garages.”

  “Yeah, we caught them with the weapons and the money, a slam dunk. What's the problem?”

  “No problem with anything we've done but the deputy fiscal asked to have a word with Abdallah. One of the uniforms was sent down to bring him up from the cells and spoke to him inappropriately.”

  “What do you mean inappropriately?”

  “I believe the expression he used was `
move your fat, Afghani arse so we can pin it to the wall.' As if that wasn't bad enough, there were loads of witnesses. Abdallah's made a formal complaint about racism and brutality. He's also now refusing to speak, saying English is not his language and we need to have a Dari translator present before we can interview him.”

  “You have to be bloody joking. The guy has a degree in English literature from Durham University.”

  “I told you it was a crisis and it gets better. Special branch have got wind of it and they want to take over, claiming there could be security issues. It wouldn't be so bad if it was just the local boys, but London is already taking an interest and they're talking about sending someone up.”

  “Okay, you'd better bring the boys up to speed too. Let's get in.”

  Fortunately, Sanjay and Phil had both just finished with their last interviews, and within a few minutes, the four of them were sitting around the table in Quentin's office, a fresh pot of tea in front of them. Sandra repeated what she'd already told Alex.

  “I could maybe help,” Sanjay offered. “I'm not fluent but I can speak quite a bit of Farsi.”

  “You'd be wasting your time. Abdallah speaks perfect English, every bit as good as you and me. He and his brief are just doing this to make a point. It's more a respect thing.”

  “Surely it can't interfere with a conviction?” Phil enquired.

  “It doesn't change any of the evidence, but it sure as Hell clouds the issue. I'm just glad that, if it had to happen, it was one of the uniforms and not one of our boys. Truth be told, I think Donny McAvoy's capable of such a cock up, even with all the training on multiculturalism.”

  “Who was it that screwed up anyway?” Phil asked.

  “It's one on the new young constables, just out of probation. Fulton's his name,” Sandra replied.

  “Bloody Hell,” Phil rejoined. “He shares a surname with one of Scotland's greatest ever comedians, may God rest his soul, and he thinks he's got a right to make people laugh, not that there was anything funny in what he said. Please tell me his forename wasn't Rikki. Dick or, even better, Dickhead would be more appropriate.”