The Grass Tattoo (#2 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (28 page)

“Thanks Keith, we’ve been appraised of that. Do you have anything on the girl?”

Ericson sniffed, annoyed, and deliberately slowed his speech to a drawl. “Mystery woman...all we know so far is that he met her at Lilith’s.”

“Lilith’s? What’s that, sir? A bar?”

“No...” Craig smiled at Nicky benignly. “During the Troubles some of the more enterprising boyos spotted a gap in the market, providing ‘services for tired business men’. They decided to set up a pleasure-dome out near the airport. They stocked it with high-class call girls and ran a pretty clean shop apparently. No drugs, no trafficking etc. But they certainly gave the tabloids plenty of photos of well-known men. Anyway, the boys running it were put away for their other little enterprises during the Troubles’, and a woman took it over. She’s called Lilith I presume?”

He looked around for confirmation and Keith answered. “Actually no, not Lilith. Megan McHenry. She called it Lilith’s because it has some sort of mysterious connotation. Seems Lilith was supposed to be the first witch and the first sexually assertive woman. A lot of medieval witches took the name.”

Craig looked at him, surprised, and Liam laughed. “You’ve been at the Readers’ Digest again, Keith.”

Ericson rewarded Liam with a sarcastic nod and Ross Ellis leaned forward, interested. From the amount of fiddling and oral gratification he was getting from his pen, Craig knew that he was dying for a cigarette.

“Anyway...the place has been running well for years. We drop in now and again to make sure she knows that she shouldn’t be doing it. But to be honest, it’s quiet, clean, they pay their taxes and, well sure it keeps the girls off the streets of Antrim. And it stops the businessmen kerb-crawling.”

Ellis grinned broadly. “Dear God, can you just imagine that picture...The shame of it, streetwalkers in Antrim. It would be like having strippers in Camberwick Green.” They all laughed and Keith continued, warming to his theme.

“You see loads of well-known men out there. She said last month that they had enough men there from the council one night to hold a meeting. God knows what the female leaders do for their
entertainment.”

Craig wondered where Ericson had been for the past few years.

“Anyhow, Watson met the girl there, took a shine to her and made her exclusive. He paid Lilith enough to make sure no one else touched her.”

“The bodyguards echoed that when we interviewed them, boss. She arrived at about six every Monday and left about eight. Then Joe would go and play poker with a bunch of his mates in a room downstairs. The description we have of her could be anyone: 5ft 1, slim, curvy.”

Nicky snorted. “Typical man description, I’m surprised they didn’t just say 34.23.34.”

“Aye well, it could be worse, Cutty. When it comes to distinguishing features he could have said ‘had a brain’.”

That was too much for Nicky and Liam got a heavy thump on the arm. Craig looked at him despairingly.

“Settle down, Liam.” He turned back to the others. “They said that she always wore sunglasses.”

Ellis leaned forward urgently. “Indoors? Didn’t they think that was a bit strange, Marc?”

“Apparently she didn’t want to be identified. Watson said that it wasn’t exactly her dream-job, so you could understand that. The only other information Drake gave us was that she wore fashionable but not high-end clothes, and no jewellery. Although he did say that he’d noticed her wearing an expensive looking bracelet when she left the room last night. He saw a Tiffany box in Joe’s luggage and thought that he must have given it to her.”

“He must have liked her a lot.”

“Drake said he did. Joe confided to him that he intended to leave his wife for her.”

“Phew... Now there’s a motive for Mrs W to frame him.”

“If she knew, Liam.”

“She knew...never underestimate a woman, boss. They spot the clues. And God gave them a heightened sense of smell, especially for other women’s perfume.”

Nicky looked at him despairingly and Davy nodded sympathetically, agreeing with her.

“Do w...we have anything on the girl’s voice?”

“Drake said that she never spoke, never. It was strange, lad. But she always smiled at them as she walked past. He described her as ‘sex on legs.’ That should make her easy enough to find in Northern Ireland.” Craig shot him another warning look.

“She’d got in the habit of calling Watson after she left. He’d go outside to the front of the hotel and they’d talk to each other looking at the same sky.”

Ellis stuck two fingers down his throat and was joined by Keith.

“You’ve got to be joking. How old is this man, Marc?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s why he won’t discuss her. One, he hopes that she’s coming back, and two; he knows he was set-up and made a fool of himself. Ian Sinclair said that he heard her voice, and it didn’t sound like any Northern Ireland accent he’d ever heard.”

“Where then?”

“He thought maybe Serbia. Liam, what about the tapes from the Castleton? Anything there on the girl?”

“Aye. Well she’s a real little weapon of mass destruction all right, never seen a wiggle like it. But as far as identifying her, there’s nothing useful, boss. She kept her face covered the whole time. All we have is her build, height and facial outline. If we do find her, it could be useful for matching, but not enough for a straight I.D. But short of actually having cameras in Watson’s rooms there’s nothing else that would have done.”

Keith Ericson piped up. “I might be able to help a bit there. Lilith said the girl came to her four months ago, with a story about how she needed to make money for her sick father - the usual stuff. Anyway, they have a reputation to uphold, if there is such
a thing in the brothel business. So she insists that all her girls are H.I.V tested and seen by a doctor before they meet customers, so at least we have a name for the girl. Ausra Mitic. I’ve checked it out and no one with that name exists. But we have two more people now who can identify her if we find her. Lilith and the doctor.”

“Get them both to do photo-fits please, Keith. Or better still get any photographs that Lilith might have. Let’s see if we can get an I.D. on this girl.”

Ericson had come to a natural halt and Craig quickly grasped the opportunity to move on. “Ross?”

“OK, Irene Leighton was killed by an ace sniper - just the single bullet, no mess, lovely job.” He nodded to himself half-admiringly. Ellis was a good shot and not adverse to a spot of hunting, something that he and Craig had argued about a few times. Craig’s limit was clay pigeons.

“Or maybe he’s just spent too much time playing computer games?”

Ellis ignored Liam’s comment. “So let’s say, hypothetically, that Watson’s girl was something to do with the Leighton killings.”

Davy sat forward, surprised. “W...why make that leap?”

“Because she had the opportunity to get Watson’s prints and D.N.A. And they were dropped off at High Street with a convenient note linking him to Irene Leighton, a relationship which Watson has now admitted. Humour me, just for a minute.”

Davy shrugged and Craig nodded Ellis on.

“So, on Mondays, Watson is at the Castleton with his little dark-blonde hooker Ausra who was really white-blonde. It would explain why Sinclair noticed the patch of white-blonde hair at the back.”

“She must have missed a spot, sir. It’s easy to miss a bit at the back of your head if you’re dying your hair yourself.”

Liam looked nosily at Nicky’s hair and she firmly ignored him. “There are loads of wash-in wash-out hair rinses and gels on the market. She could easily have changed her colour and look, just with different clothes and a pair of cheap sunglasses from any supermarket.”

“We don’t know what she really looks like, Ross.”

“True, but we can have a fair guess that she’s involved with a professional killer, Marc. If she knew about the death of Irene Leighton or was working for someone who did, then the best we can say about her was that she was a honey-trap. And that they’ve been planning this for months.”

“More like a Venus fly-trap.”

“She didn’t do this alone.”

John leaned forward, interjecting. “Irene Leighton was shot, Marc.”

“And she was walked into Stormont by someone, John; it could have been a woman. The London killings indicate the possibility of a couple working together.”

Ellis interjected again. “OK, so whoever framed Watson for the Irene Leighton murder had his D.N.A. on the cigarette and identified his prints. It must have been someone close to him, probably a woman? But the killing of the two Leightons must be linked, so maybe the woman who got close to Watson was somehow also involved with Bob Leighton?”

Liam shook his head. “The girl involved with Leighton was their nanny, Kaisa; we have nothing to show that it’s the same girl. And just say that it was Caitlin Watson who got Joe’s prints and D.N.A, and then linked him to Irene Leighton’s death, what would she have to do with Bob Leighton?”

John added. “Bob Leighton’s killer knew all about his family history of heart disease, and chose a method of killing that mimicked that. This Ausra is a complete stranger. Although…”

Craig leaned forward urgently. “What, John?”

“The information about the heart disease was probably available from newspaper reports or death records. His father died of S.A.D.S. and he was a prominent politician, so his cause of death would have been reported. Once she knew who her target was, it would have been an easy matter for any professional killer to do their homework and work their way into Leighton’s life. So I suppose…”

Nicky interjected. “Sir, I know that Annette had another chat with Caitlin Watson. She was more fed-up with Joe than she let on.” She caught Liam’s smug look and scowled, continuing. “But
not
enough to frame him, Liam. She spoke to a divorce lawyer a few weeks ago but said that she just wanted to put the wind up him. She didn’t really want a divorce. And without Annette actually mentioning
the girl Ausra, she said that she was convinced that Caitlin knew
nothing
about Irene Leighton, or the other woman.”

Craig trusted Annette’s instincts. “Thanks Nicky, but if it is the same girl then we need to prove it. Liam, chase up McNulty again on the prints, and work with Annette to dig a bit deeper into Caitlin Watson. If she knew about Joe’s relationships with Irene Leighton and Ausra, then we need to find out.

Davy, keep going on the databases, let’s see if Ausra Mitic’s D.N.A. is anywhere in the system, and find out who she is.” He turned back to Ellis. “But it still doesn’t get us any closer to finding out who ordered these killings, and why, Ross. Anything on the terrorism front?”

“Only that a group called the N.I.F. have claimed Bob and Irene Leighton’s deaths.”

“The who?” Craig thought quickly of his conversation with Andy White.

“The Northern Ireland Freedom Brigade. They say they’re a new dissident group, except no-one has ever heard of them! It’s complete bollocks, Marc. They don’t exist. There’s no intelligence on them, nothing. Someone’s just invented a new acronym to stir things up. Claiming the killing of an M.P and his wife, and leaving her body at Stormont; that’ll work. Especially once the Chronicle gets hold of it.

But I can tell you that the real guys are bloody annoyed about it, and they’re already looking for someone to blame. With a bit of luck they’ll bump each other off.”

Liam muttered. “Here, here.”

Craig rubbed his face tiredly, half-agreeing, but trying to keep a grip of the meeting. “I’m sure D.C.I. Ellis didn’t mean that.”

Ellis just shrugged, he believed in the wild-west school of policing. Craig let the banter fly for a moment and then called them back to order. “OK, funny as they are, enough vigilante jokes. But this isn’t the first N.I.F. runour that I’ve heard.” He updated them on White’s comments.

Ellis chewed thoughtfully at his pen. “The rumour-mill’s working overtime then. OK, real life. This is someone covering themselves on the Leighton’s killings, and they’re digging themselves a deep hole in the process. Either that or they’re deliberately trying to stir up the terrorism angle to cover-up something else; violent crime, drugs, girls, something.”

Craig nodded, the terrorism angle felt right. The room fell silent until Craig broke it, bringing everyone up to speed on the bullet.

Ellis interjected. “We’re looking at an overseas hit here, Marc. I’ve done a bit more digging and none of our guys could muster that sort of armour, not even back in their glory days. It’s too high-level. This was a professional job. What exactly were the Leightons involved in, that someone wanted them dead?”

“I think the wife was sacrificed to get at the husband. No one has anything but good to say about her.”

Craig paused for breath and Liam was about to jump in, but Ellis was quicker. “Davy, have you found anything on known contract killers?”

“The Met are looking, and Interpol, but nothing s...similar yet.”

“What about the gambling, Davy? Is Watson in trouble there?”

“No, he’s just a recreational gambler, the odd game of poker. Mrs Watson gave us permission to look at their accounts and there are no problems. W…Watson made a load of money at Goldbergs and more from investments here.”