Referendum (30 page)

Downstairs, Arbogast made a mug of coffee from the espresso machine and drank it down in one go, the taste of the thick black liquid matched its intense smell. He needed a quick start, could feel the bags sagging under his eyes. The nerves were starting to bite. His
bowels churned as the caffeine coursed through his body.
Perhaps the coffee wasn’t such a good idea after all.
He asked himself again if the operation was really something he should go through with; there was still time to call it off. Standing in the hall he looked at his reflection in the mirror above the telephone table. Tiredness aside, he thought he was starting to look a bit healthier. He’d regained some of the definition in his face. The lines were still there but he expected they were now permanent fixtures. But he’d improved his lifestyle, Beckie had helped with that; and now he was ready. Back on form and ready to go. He scooped his car keys from the metal dish and left.

Rosalind Ying had been awake for hours. She had dragged Steve out at 4:00am for a five mile run. She needed the adrenaline boost, wanted to get fired up for the day. They ran through Park Circus and down into Kelvingrove Park. She sprinted along the flats and Steve struggled to keep up. Rosalind watched as the sun started to split the sky, slowly rising from the east. A slight wind whispered on her face and across her body as she powered back up the hill towards Lord Robert’s statue, the proud Victorian racist who won plaudits for saving the empire from rebellions overseas.

Rosalind had been trying to put her own rebellion to the back of her mind. She’d been concentrating on the moment, taking one step at a time, listening to the beat of her heart and the rhythm of the run. But the prospect of the day ahead kept interrupting her train of thought. Suddenly Steve was past her, sprinting full pelt, so she increased the pressure and caught him up; with quarter of a mile to go they ended in a dead heat.

Inside she stripped off and dumped her shorts and t-shirt in the hall. Steve was surprised; she was usually so fussy about keeping the place tidy. Rosalind didn’t say anything, just took his hand and led him into the bedroom. She undressed him and forced him on his back. He stayed silent, not sure what to expect.

“I can see you still have a little life left in you yet?” Rosalind was standing looking down at him. She leaned forward and straddled him, taking his cock in hand she mounted him and grabbed onto the iron bed frame. She said nothing as she rocked backwards and forwards, all the time watching Steve’s expression change and contort. She was in control, in control and ready for anything.

***

Niall Murphy watched as the TV blinked on. The breakfast news was full of the Referendum. The Prime Minister was in town promising more powers for Scotland, but only if they voted ‘No’, while the First Minister said there was nothing new being offered by the UK Government, that it had all been promised before and people shouldn’t be fooled. There was a discussion on pensions being lost and oil stocks being low. There was nothing about the man he knew had been charged over the murder of Lorna McMahon.

It was a pity she’d died; she still owed him a lot of money, cash that was now going to have to be written off. And it finally sounded like she’d come up with a way to pay. Prostitution was something he had never thought she’d have the brass neck to put herself out there like that; she always came across as so self righteous.
Well it’s funny what debt can do to you. I could have pimped her out and made a healthy return.
Murphy stopped outside the bedroom door, sipping a cup of coffee which was still too hot to drink. He could see the outline of Irene under the covers. He hadn’t meant to shag her, just got drunk one night and it had turned into a habit. She was alright, didn’t say much and did what she was told.
No airs and graces. Give her drink and a good time and she’s happy.
He was too, didn’t matter what the others said, he could see the looks in their eyes; that she shouldn’t be going with the likes of him, that she could do better. But he had always liked bigger women. He raised his mug in salute and then got ready to leave. Graeme Donald wanted to meet. It was an unusual request as he usually didn’t want to be seen with him.
Still, they’d been good for each other so far, perhaps there’s another opportunity
. He grabbed his jacket and left. It was 9:00am.

***

They met in a coffee shop in Sauchiehall Street. Arbogast wanted to talk at Pitt Street where they still had access to the files, but Rosalind didn’t want to take the risk. There was always the chance of being dragged into something by a colleague or, worse still, run into Donald before they were ready.

When he arrived Rosalind was drinking a glass of water, she motioned to her watch to let him know he was late.
Some things never change.

“Sorry, Rosalind, I wasn’t staying at home last night so I’ve been all over town this morning.”

“Have you taken to calling that bed and breakfast home now? That’s desperate, John. When are you going to get your life sorted out? I wouldn’t have thought your girl friend would like being taken back to that. She looked a little out of your league.”

She couldn’t wait to throw the ‘girl friend’ comment right back at me
. Arbogast had known it was a childish thing to say but he’d been angry when he’d seen her with another man, “She’s OK, but how’s Steve. He looks very ‘fit’.”

“He’s a cycling instructor so he’s just fine. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

“Whoa – too much information,” Arbogast waved his hands in mock disgust, smiling despite himself, “You seem happy though?”

“I am, thanks. What about your ‘girl friend’ then?” She’d said ‘girl friend’ in a sing-song playground way. Arbogast laughed again, almost in danger of enjoying himself.

“Look, I wasn’t expecting to see you like that, with someone else. The bad me came out, I just wanted to make the point.”

“I don’t think she was impressed. Listen to me saying ‘she’, Sorry I can’t remember her name – was it Rebecca?”

“Beckie.”

“Close enough. She’s very pretty, seems you can still punch above your weight.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. I think I just allowed myself to have a few months of slobbish indulgence on my own terms. I took our breakup hard and I know I didn’t exactly help things with the way I behaved. Anyway, enough of my domestic bliss, we’ve got more pressing matters to discuss.” Rosalind nodded for him to continue. “You need to know that this thing with Donald is nothing personal. I wasn’t even looking into him, it was Niall Murphy I was after.”

“Why Murphy?”

“He’s poison. I was dealing with a suicide during the Games and the family involved was the McMahons out in Dennistoun.”

“Your murder case?”

“The same. The press painted her as a prostitute and it’s almost like no-one really cares that she’s dead. She was just down on her luck. Illness in the family, lost benefits, and poor financial decisions – those were their only crimes. They were trying to survive and Niall Murphy took advantage in the worst possible way.”

“You can’t do much about that, John. It was their choice.”

“No, Rosalind, you don’t understand. They didn’t feel like they had a choice. They took money from the only place they could and then they were trapped.”

“But this guy Murphy is just part of the system. If he goes – so what? You can bet your life another will take his place, it’s a never ending cycle.”

“So we should just accept it?”

“I’m not saying that. All I mean is that there’s not much we can do for that family. Will bringing down this guy, Murphy, actually do anything for them?”

“It might give the daughter peace of mind, help her to move on. She blames this guy and I’m worried she’ll throw her own life away trying to get back at him. And you know she won’t win, he’s too strong. But it’s not even just about Murphy now. Graeme Donald’s involvement means the problem’s being propped up by us; by you and me. If we turn a blind eye, the bent cops of this world will let this happen again and again. We need to do something to stop it.”

They both knew they had been skirting around the task at hand. Rosalind brought it up, “So are you ready for this?”

Arbogast was nodding, “We have a solid case. I’m not sure if he’s going to go for it or not, but it seems the best way to get everything out into the open.”

“He’s been in this situation before and walked away.”

“We’re dealing with a particular set of circumstances. In the next two days the Scottish Government will not want to see a major case explode in the press suggesting there’s corruption at the heart of the national police force; that would be poison for the Referendum campaign. Whatever way this goes, Donald is going to have to leave.”

“But what if you’re wrong? We’re both taking a big risk here and if push comes to shove he may also have been taking steps to cover his tracks. If that’s already in progress we might end up being cast aside, castigated like that whistleblower guy. There wouldn’t be much we could do after that.”

“Look, Rosalind, you’ve seen the evidence. We’ve got a strong case against Donald and we should be able to flush out Murphy. If that’s the way this ends it’ll be worth it. I owe it to the daughter of Lorna McMahon to make this work. If there’s one good thing to come out of this whole sorry mess it’s that she gets the chance to live a normal life. I didn’t do enough for her mother and now she’s dead. I can’t let that happen again.”

“OK, but if he bites we will need to report as soon as possible. We can’t leave ourselves wide open. There are official channels that we have to follow.”

“Of course, but you agree we need to speak to him first?”

Rosalind nodded, she had heard enough; it was time to put the plan into action.

***

It was an imposing building and he was slightly nervous about being there. Niall Murphy had been asked to come to the new Police Scotland Glasgow headquarters in Dalmarnock. Looking up, he could see the building was still under construction but the sleek black steel frame box cut a dark shadow by the side of the Clyde. Site security meant he couldn’t get in until Graeme Donald turned up, so he sat in the car and waited. There didn’t seem to be anyone working in the building today. Donald had explained they were in the middle of fitting out the electrics when they’d hit a glitch and needed parts before the work could continue, which meant that they wouldn’t be disturbed.
But it still feels wrong.
Murphy lit a cigarette and destroyed the rest of his McDonald’s drive-through breakfast.

Arbogast and Ying had waited long enough. The time had come to confront their Chief with the news they feared might spell the end of their careers. But they’d vowed to stick together, to point to the proof and appeal to his better judgement. Ying knocked on the door and waited for the call.

“Come in.”

Opening the door Arbogast saw that Donald was surprised to see them. He was hunched over a management report, scribbling with his pen. He turned the paper face down so that it couldn’t be seen. He held the pen in his hand and clicked away at the cartridge.

“Well you two are the last pair I expected to see together. Do you have something to tell me; some good news about your rocky relationship?”

Arbogast watched as his boss smiled, he thought this was going to be fun, but he’d soon see the lie of the land. He wanted to say something but had agreed that Rosalind, as the senior, should take the lead. She knew the script.

“I’m afraid it’s official business, sir, concerning operational matters.” Ying kept her tone calm and measured. She wanted to time the comments well. They needed to see his reaction, had to be sure they were doing the right thing.

“Well then, you’d better sit down. Grab a chair.” Finally they were all sat looking across Donald’s desk. The silence spoke volumes.

“I am really quite busy, so if you’d like to get to the point I’ll help in any way I can.”

Rosalind felt her throat go dry. She thought she was ready, but the nerves had kicked in. She had never taken a colleague to task like this and Graeme Donald was no ordinary colleague, he was a big deal.

“I’m afraid it’s a very sensitive matter which concerns you directly,” Donald had started to frown; he couldn’t see where this was going. He glanced at Arbogast who stared back.
Why hasn’t he said anything? It’s not like him, he’s usually got an opinion whether he’s asked for one or not
, “OK, well then you had better talk me through this.”

There was a moment’s silence before Rosalind produced the package. She took it from her lap and slid it across the desk, “We have reason to believe that you are working with a man named Niall Murphy. A man you used as muscle in Belfast, a man who has helped you to carry out questionable activities in Belfast and possibly here in Glasgow.”

Donald’s demeanour changed immediately, “Oh come on, Rosalind, not this again. I went through all this very publicly in Northern Ireland and you may not have seen the headlines but all the allegations were dropped.” He picked up the A4 envelope and felt the contents, “So let me guess what these are. Grainy photographs of an alleged torture with Mr McNally and some amateur dramatics on a CD. Am I right?”

Rosalind glared at Arbogast, he had been adamant the tapes were new evidence, “That’s right, and to my knowledge these have never been made public.”

“You’re right and with good reason, they’re fake. Photo-shopped snaps and an unverifiable tape recording – did you ever stop to think why there was no video recording?”

Arbogast had heard enough, he knew from Rosalind’s look that she was annoyed, “With all due respect, sir, this evidence is genuine. It came directly from—”

“—from Colm McNally I’d have thought? He tried this before but no-one would listen. This,” He said pointing at the package, “is garbage.” Donald threw the envelope into the waste basket by his desk, “So there had better be more?” Donald sat with his hands clasped on the desk. He looked belligerent, ready for a fight.