The Careless Word (#8 - The Craig Crime Series) (10 page)

“I’m sorrier than I can say about your husband, your father. It’s a terrible, terrible thing that has happened to you. But I’m not here with more bad news; I’m here to ask for your help.”

On her last few words Annette directed a smile at the boy, making him feel as if he was in charge. His high voice cut through the air.

“You have to get them. The men that did it to my dad.”

Annette nodded. “Yes, we do. But we need your help.” She scanned the faces in front of her. The girl’s no less hostile than before and the baby’s and mother’s lost and confused. “We need all your help. Please. Anything that you can tell me about your father, his love of books, why he went to the shop that day, did anyone ever threaten him? Anything you know might help.”

She turned back to Maria McGovern and repeated her plea. “Anything, Mrs McGovern, no matter how trivial it seems.”

Maria McGovern nodded and started talking, with her children joining in, and an hour later Annette left the house with a list of speculations and memories, and one possible solid lead.

Chapter Nine

Docklands. 4 p.m.

“Everyone gather round, please. Nicky, can you take notes; we need to get this into some sort of order.”

Nicky lifted her notepad and perched on a chair beside her boss, just like a secretary from sixty years before. Liam wheeled himself over on his desk chair and Davy did the same, while Annette tutted disapprovingly at the tracks they’d left on the carpeted floor.

“I’ll do a brief intro, then Davy; I’d like to hear anything you’ve found, followed by Liam and Annette. Then we’ll open it up. OK?”

Craig was answered by a series of nods and slurps.

“I’ve had two meetings today. At the army base and at the lab with John. A quick summary is that Captain Ken Smith of The Swords Regiment will be acting as liaison for us and working out of the squad here from Monday.” He glanced at Nicky. “Can you find him a desk please, Nick and get all the passes etc. sorted out.”

Nicky nodded and smiled. Craig knew immediately what her smile was about. “Yes, he’s youngish and yes, he’s probably good looking, although Liam can tell you more about that sort of thing. He had a serious case of hair envy.”

Liam had just taken a gulp of tea and he almost spat it out in surprise. “I did not!” He wiped down the front of his jacket then uttered a grudging. “Smith’s all right looking, I suppose, although why I’d be expected to know I’m…”

“You’re being wound up.”

Liam’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh, right. Nice one.”

Craig carried on. “OK. Smith told us that the bomb was basic Semtex with a timer; they used an old pocket watch for that, probably 18th Century, no idea why. The signature doesn’t match anything they’ve seen from the dissidents in the past ten years. They’re checking it against the whole Troubles’ database now, so let’s hope that they get a hit.”

“Or not, boss. I’d rather this wasn’t some sad old scrote from the ‘war’ having their death rattle, if you don’t mind.”

“So would I, Liam. But better that than a completely unknown bomber who we’ll never find. Smith also said that the scrollwork that they found attached to the bomb was, as they thought, a photo-frame. They found a fragment of an image in it which they’re reconstructing now.” Craig glanced at Davy; he was scribbling furiously on the back of a page.

“Something important, Davy?”

Davy looked up and realised that all eyes were on him. “Actually yes. I’m w…writing a programme for pulling the image out of a photograph.” He grinned cheekily. “You were going to s…say that next, weren’t you? That Captain Smith was going to send the image across for me to look at as well?”

Craig laughed, both at Davy’s genius and his cheek. The genius had been there from the beginning but the cheek was relatively new and it still surprised him.

“That’s exactly what I was going to say. Captain Smith said he would send it over to Des. But he said that days ago and he was prevented.” He glanced at the time; ten-past-four. “If it’s not here soon give Smith a call. And can you and Des check the watch fragments they found in the bomb. It seems strange they used it instead of a modern timer. It must have some significance.”

Craig took a quick gulp of coffee then carried on, updating them on his conversation with John. “John seems convinced that the volume of remains they found indicates two more dead but he’s only found the thumb of one. Hopefully we’ll get an I.D. off that.”

Davy interrupted. “We already have.”

Craig’s eyebrows shot up. “Already? Brilliant work. I’ll hand over to you on that in a minute. OK, that means that we now have three dead victims identified and one that we’re still clueless on. It could have been a man of any age, perhaps even a woman; all the shoes were flat lace-ups but one was only a size seven.

Nicky sniffed. “A woman with big feet.”

Craig ignored her. “Hopefully CCTV will give us something, or Fintan Delaney will if he regains his memory.” He turned to Davy. “Right. Over to you, Davy. What have you found?”

Davy turned over the sheet he’d been scribbling on and started to report.

“There w…were a couple of traffic cameras in the street outside the shop so we’re pulling those images, but I’m having a hard time getting any joy because it’s the w…weekend. I’ll try again on Monday. The shop’s interior CCTV might yield something as well. Des says that the back-door to the s…shop was shut but not locked, s…so it’s unlikely that the bomber left that way but not impossible.”

Liam cut in. “That’s if he left at all, lad. He might have blown himself up. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Craig raked his hair thoughtfully. Idiot or suicide bomber? “By accident or on purpose, Liam?”

“Aye well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? There were idiots during the Troubles who blew themselves up with their bombs and they definitely didn’t mean to, but there are plenty of people nowadays who’ll deliberately kill themselves for a cause.”

Davy asked the question that was on everyone else’s lips. “Muslims?”

Craig shrugged. “It’s very unlikely in Belfast, but we can’t rule anything out until we get the bomb signature.”

He waved Davy on before the briefing turned into a debate on world politics.

“OK. I s…started checking on the victims. First, the new I.D. from the thumbprint. W…We struck gold there.”

Annette frowned. “In what way?”

“W…Well, first it belongs to a known paramilitary, albeit retired, and secondly it was a w…woman. Sharon Greer, member of the UKF. They’re loyalist paramilitaries.”

Liam lurched forward. “You’re sure, lad?”

“Positive.”

Liam whistled so loudly that Nicky held her ears. “Well, I’ll be buggered. Sharpy Greer! We looked everywhere for her but she dropped out of sight after the Good Friday Agreement in ’98.”

Craig interrupted Liam’s trip down memory lane. “The UKF’s a new one on me. Who was Sharon Greer and what had she done?”

Liam was still reminiscing. “Sharon ‘Sharpy’ Greer was a real bad bitch, if you’ll pardon my French. Hard as nails and twice as bad as the men. She was married to David Greer, head of the UKF. They were a loyalist splinter group that worked on the fringes of the Troubles, mostly making a profit from them, but they also carried out targeted attacks on Catholics. David Greer was a bastard but Sharpy was even worse. She tortured men before her hubbie killed them and by all accounts she got off on it.”

Nicky’s husky voice cut in. “Rose West and Myra Hindley. When you get a bad woman she’s ten times as bad as a man.”

Liam gestured at the menacing way she was waving her pen. “Remind me not to hack you off.” He warmed to his theme. “Anyway, Sharpy was wanted for everything you can think off. Wounding, shooting…”

“Bombs?”

Craig’s question brought Liam down to earth with a bump. He shook his head grudgingly. “No, no I don’t think so. Davy?”

Davy shook his head. “I’ve got her record here and it’s as Liam s…says. No bombs.”

Annette ventured an opinion. “It could just be coincidence, sir. She could just have been a book lover in for a browse.”

Craig smiled at her determination to believe the best of everyone. “She could have been but somehow I doubt it, Annette.” Something occurred to him. “Liam, the protection racket in Smithfield. Any word on who runs it yet? “

Liam shook his head. “Not yet, but I like how you’re thinking, boss. Ex-paramilitaries turned extortionists.”

Annette broke in, annoyed. “What protection racket?”

“Sorry Annette, we haven’t got to that bit yet. Let Davy finish first.”

Davy re-started with a look that said they weren’t to interrupt. “OK, S…Sharon Greer’s our fourth victim. There’ll be more on her when I get it. Barry McGovern was a forty-two-year-old accountant married to Maria, thirty-eight. They had three children: thirteen-year-old Kathleen, eight-year-old Darren and three-year-old Petra. McGovern looks clean s…so far, not even a parking ticket. He was however a member of four libraries, so we have a pretty s…solid history of book loving there. Then there’s Jules Robinson, the shop’s owner. Owned Papyrus since 1995, before that he was in the RUC. Married to Sarah, no children. No financial problems so far, no criminal offences, good reputation in the book world; he’s a member of the RBDA; the rare book dealers’ association.”

Liam interrupted, much to Davy’s annoyance. “I’ll tell you more on him in a minute.”

Annette joined in, competing. “And me too, on the McGoverns.”

Craig waved them down and turned back to Davy. He was frowning. “W…When you two are reporting I’m going to interrupt every two minutes and see how you like it!”

The culprits grinned apologetically and he carried on. “I checked and S…Sarah Robinson only worked in the shop Monday to W…Wednesday each week, that’s why she wasn’t there when it blew up.”

Craig nodded. The bombers may or may not have known that; either way Sadie Robinson’s had had a narrow escape. Davy continued.

“Fintan Delaney. Twenty years old, s…studying P.P.E. at Queen’s. There are no terrorist, gang or political connections in his family anywhere. He hasn’t been involved in any marches, riots or s…student protests. He hasn’t even attended political debates.”

Craig interrupted. “Isn’t that a bit unusual for a politics student?”

“That’s exactly w…what I thought so I phoned around some of his class mates. They all said that Fintan was a nice guy who preferred to spend his free time working for the church.”

“Which church?”

“Catholic mainly, but he also did some work for the Ecumenical Missions, working with Methodists and Presbyterians. His parents are members of an ecumenical congregation and Fintan went to an integrated school. There doesn’t s…seem to be any bigotry or affiliation with republican causes. Quite the opposite, both parents canvassed for Alliance at the last election.”

Liam let out a low whistle and Davy turned sharply. “Do you have s…something that you’d like to say, Liam?”

Liam’s freckled face took on a look of saintly innocence. “Who me? I would never interrupt.”

Davy rolled his eyes. “Oh go on, spit it out.”

“I was just going to say that Delaney seems to be an example of the post-Troubles generation who don’t want to repeat their parent’s mistakes. They bend over backwards to integrate.”

Craig raised an eyebrow. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“I didn’t say that it was a bad thing. Actually it’s a very good thing and it was just an observation.” Liam’s voice became huffy. “I can say things without being sarcastic you know.”

Craig smiled. “Only occasionally. Carry on Davy.”

“W…Well, the only other things about Delaney are that he’s a member of a book-club, so it’s very possible that he was just in the shop to browse. He also took a trip to Pakistan last year.”

“To do what?”

“Charity work. He was there for six weeks helping to rebuild a village.”

Craig nodded. Lucia had done something similar in Chile when she was a student but not from any sense of religion, more for humanitarianism.

“OK. That’s great, Davy. Everyone top up your coffee then we’ll move on to Liam and Annette.”

As they were refreshing their drinks another thought hit Craig. “Davy, did Delaney have a girlfriend?”

Davy looked blank for a moment and Liam jumped in. “You know, a girlfriend, those nice soft things that keep you warm on a winter’s night.”

The remark was greeted by howls of indignation from Annette and a caustic “you make us sound like duvets” from Nicky. Craig waved the impending furore into silence and turned back to Davy. He was nodding.

“Yes he did. At school, a girl called Hanna Weir. They split up before Delaney went to Queen’s.”

Craig nodded. “Check her out. And Nicky, tell Delaney’s parents that I still need to speak to them; we keep missing each other. OK Liam, you have the floor, and everyone else, feel free to interrupt him at any time.”

Liam pretended to be offended but spoilt it with a grin. He launched into a description of Sadie Robinson’s garden gnomes that made them all laugh. As the laughter subsided he described her accepting approach to her husband’s death.

“I’ve seen it before but every time I see it, it impresses me. Some people have a real faith in what comes next.”

Annette nodded thoughtfully. “I saw patients like that when I was a nurse. They would be given terrible news and accept it with a nod, and they were always so nice. I asked one lady who’d been told she had only six months to live how she could be so calm. She just smiled and said that there was something better after this. ”

Liam shrugged his shoulders “Well whatever it is, Sadie believes it, and she made great cake as well.” He laughed, breaking the solemn mood, and went on to outline Sadie Robinson’s theories about her husband’s death. “There were three pretty good reasons to target Jules Robinson, if that’s who the bombers were aiming for. He was in the way of a property developer, he was paying protection money and we don’t know if he’d come up short on that, although his wife said she didn’t think so. And last but not least he was an ex-cop. RUC no less, not the most popular police force in the world and I say that being a past member of it.”

Davy chipped in. “Bet that didn’t help its popularity.”

Liam made a wounded face. “I’m hurt that you could say a thing like that, lad.”

Craig watched as Davy blushed and tried to backpedal, stammering that it had only been a joke. After a few seconds Liam let out a loud guffaw, chalking a one-all score in the air.

“That’ll teach you to play with the big boys.”

Craig shook his head and waved Liam on.

“Aye, anyway. We have three possible motives to check out for Jules. Mrs Robinson thought the RUC link was the least likely. They’d never had threats from any direction, although given the fact it was a bomb that killed him we can’t rule it out.”

Craig interjected. “Which could in itself be a double bluff.”

“Right. It pays to have a warped mind in this job.” Liam pushed another biscuit into his mouth and chewed loudly for a moment before continuing. “So that leaves us with the protection racket. We need to pursue that, especially now that bits of Sharpy Greer have been found in the wreckage.”