Alex Warren Murder Mysteries Collection

Chapter 9

Alex phoned Helen before leaving the office to explain he was running late and he was pleasantly surprised not to suffer her normal berating.

After their split, and by mutual agreement so as to minimise the disruption to the boys, Helen kept the family home. It was a detached bungalow located in Clarkston, an affluent suburb to the south of Glasgow, only a couple of miles from Maggie Stevenson"s nursing home.

Just after 8.00 pm, Alex drove along the narrow crescent and parked the Santa Fe half on the pavement. It was already dark and his footsteps crunched on the red blaze pathway announcing his arrival. The door was opened by Helen before he had the opportunity to knock. There was a loud yelp as Jake, their four-year-old mongrel, squeezed through the doorway and excitedly circled Alex, jumping up and down to try to get his full attention.

Alex squatted down to hug the animal and rough up his fur, not too concerned about covering his clothes in dog hairs. Alex had always loved Jake and the feeling was mutual. It had broken Alex"s heart to leave him behind when he moved out of the house, but he was also the boys" dog and, as Alex was out working long hours, leaving him here was the kindest solution. They had no knowledge of the dog"s parentage as, similar to all of their pets, Jake had been rescued from the Cardonald Dog and Cat Home. It was obvious from his look that he"d been mainly Alsatian, probably with a bit of Labrador because of his soft mouth. He had short black hair with a white patch on his chest and tan coloured socks. His long, kinked tail looked as if it had been broken at some time and rotated in a circle instead of wagging when he was happy.

Turning his attention, he saw Helen come through the door. She was five years younger than Alex, trim and attractive. Not too far short of six feet tall, she was slim and elegant. Although she had a very healthy appetite, working out at the gym three times a week helped her keep her weight under control and her muscles toned. Her cascade of blonde curls framed her face and rested on her shoulders. Her skin was smooth with a sun-bed induced orange glow and her powder blue eyes were bright and sparkling.

She stepped out from the entranceway and half closed the door behind her to give them a moment"s privacy. “I saw on the news about Scott Stevenson being found dead in his shop. Is that true?”

“Yes, it happened yesterday afternoon.”

“Do you know yet who did it? I"d like to give him a medal.”

“It"s early days yet and you know I can"t talk about it.”

“Oh! Does that mean you"re involved?”

“It"s being dealt with by my department, but I can"t say any more.”

Helen stepped aside to let him in.

Craig and Andrew were sitting in the lounge watching television, each had an overnight bag on the floor beside them containing their essentials, a toothbrush, a couple of changes of clothes and, of course, their iPhones.

Craig was fourteen, tall and skinny with angular features. He seemed to be all arms and legs. He"d inherited his father"s bright green eyes but his shock of hair was thick and the same colour as his mother"s. No matter how much he combed it, it inevitably hung with straggly ends pointing in all directions. Dressed in the standard uniform for his age of jeans and T-shirt, he wore the stern, disinterested look often associated with teenagers.

Being twelve, Andrew still carried a layer of puppy fat. He had a round, smiling face with laughing eyes, and although considerably smaller and a couple of years younger than his sibling, he seemed to have a greater inner strength supported by a wisdom and a sense of humour which was beyond his years.

“Hi, Dad,” they each called in tandem as they stood and picked up their bags, pecked their mother on the cheek and made their way out the door.

“Is Colin not about?” Alex ventured, referring to Helen"s live-in partner.

“He"s in the kitchen. Why? Did you want to see him?”

“No, that"s okay. I just wondered.” Without thinking, Alex gave Helen"s shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he followed the boys. She had to hold Jake"s collar to prevent him forcing his way into the car with them. Alex would have loved to take Jake with them for the weekend, as he had done many times in the past, but he had outings planned for the lads which would not be suitable for the dog and it would have been cruel to leave him for long periods just sitting in the flat or the car.

“Right lads, off to the cinema. I"m running a wee bit late, and I"ve not eaten yet, so we"ll just head straight to the Odeon and I can get a hot dog there. Have you decided what you want to see?”

“Andrew wants to see the new "Tin Tin" film, but I think it will be too childish,” Craig answered.

“I think it might be quite good. Although it"s an animation, Steven Spielberg directed it, and the reviews have been good,” Alex replied.

“There"s nothing else on anyway that I"m old enough to get into,” Andrew added, “at least nothing worth seeing.”

“Well, I guess that"s decided then,” Craig moped.

“Come on, give it a fair chance. Now what are you both wanting to eat and drink?”

They drove to the Odeon multiplex at Springfield Quay, by the side of the River Clyde, and found a space in the massive open car park. Despite themselves, both kids enjoyed the film, gorging themselves with popcorn, sweets and Irn Bru. In the comfort, heat and darkness, and following his near sleepless night, Alex struggled to stay awake.

Andrew was the one yawning when they arrived back at Alex"s flat at 11.30. It was a late night for the boys but it wasn"t a school night and they could all have a lie in on Saturday.

Alex was up early and had the table set with bowls and plates, orange juice and assorted boxes of cereal, together with milk, butter and jam. Freshly made toast and hot tea were added when the boys arrived

“Eat up, lads, we"ve got a full day planned and you"ll need all your energy.” Alex was setting an example munching into a slice of brown bread toast spread thickly with marmalade.

After breakfast, Alex ensured both boys had their swimming trunks and towels then they set off for Eastwood Swimming Baths. The pool was of a good standard, twenty-five metres in length with separate children"s and spa pools. One entire wall was constructed from glass, giving an attractive outlook onto trees and grass. The setting was magnificent, sitting in the middle of Eastwood Park, between St. Ninian"s High School and the East Renfrewshire Council buildings. Alex purchased their tickets and they made their way to the changing area. The boys had donned their costumes, deposited their clothes in a locker and found their way into the water long before Alex was ready to join them. Craig and Andrew were both competent swimmers and represented their school in competitions in their respective age groups. They were all having good fun, swimming and playing games in the water, when Craig swam off by himself, powering his way through the water at great speed. Alex looked on concerned until Andrew explained by pointing to a couple girls of similar age to Craig who were watching him, clearly impressed. Alex struggled trying not to laugh. After completing four fast lengths of the pool, Craig glided to the sidewall beside the girls and they started talking. After a few minutes, the girls made off to join a larger group and Craig re-joined them. His face was bright red from embarrassment but he was also grinning from ear to ear.

“What was that all about?” Alex quizzed, but before he had a chance to answer, Andrew cut in chanting, “Craig"s got a girlfriend,” in a loud voice.

“Shaddup!” he screamed back, pushing his brother"s head under the surface, but unable to stop laughing at the same time.

Alex managed to separate them and Craig was more forthcoming with his explanation.

“Tina and Alana are in my year at school. They were just telling me that a whole crowd are getting together tomorrow afternoon in East Kilbride at the ice rink. They"ve asked me if I"d like to go along. “

Seeing Alex"s face fall, Craig remembered his Dad had made other plans.

“That"s okay. I can drop you there after lunch and pick you up again at five to take you home.”

“I"m sorry, Dad. Would you really not mind?”

“No, it"s okay. It"ll give me a chance to have some quality time with your brother.”

“Aw shucks!” Andrew cut in.

It dawned on Alex that Craig was not a small child any more. He was growing up, a teenager already, complete with the raging hormones associated with that age. He knew better than to try to interfere with his plans.

It occurred to Alex that hormones, s*x and lust were such a powerful influence. It was the main factor behind Stevenson"s blackmail opportunities and as a result was probably the cause of his death. Often, statistics are quoted about the levels of crime that are alcohol related, but when Alex thought more about it, a hell of a lot of crimes were s*x related. It wasn"t just the r***s and s****l attacks, there were the acts of indecency, and of course blackmail, but there was also the fights and other actions resulting out of envy or greed or revenge; not to mention the more tenuous links affecting thefts and motoring offences. If only he wasn"t so busy trying to solve the crimes, Alex would have loved to do the research and prepare a dissertation on the subject, maybe even try for a doctorate.

Back out in the car, Alex enquired further, “About tomorrow, will you need your skates or are you just meeting at the food court?”

“Oh s**t! I never asked. Oh, sorry, Dad, I didn"t mean to say that.”

Although discouraging the boys from swearing, Alex thought this wasn"t the time to take issue.

“What can I do? I don"t want to miss out if the others are going on the ice, but I"ll look a right dork if I arrive with skates and nobody else does.”

“Why not phone the girls and ask?”

“I don"t have their numbers, and besides, I don"t want to look an idiot.”

“I"m sure you could get their numbers easily enough if you wanted to, but you said a whole group was going. You could try calling someone else.”

“No, Dad, please. I don"t want to. How about I take my skates with me but leave them in the car? Then if you"d just wait for me for a bit, I"d go in and see what was happening and come back out if I needed them and if I didn"t I could phone you to let you know you could go.”

Alex thought the arrangement ridiculous, but all he said was, “You"d better call your Mum to tell her we"ll be dropping in to collect them.”

From the swimming baths they detoured to collect the skates and set off for lunch. Alex had made a twelve o"clock booking at La Brava, a stylish Italian bistro-restaurant-delicatessen in Netherlee, a couple of miles from the Clarkston house on the road towards Glasgow. It was one of the boys" favourites. Alex loved it too and he had patronised it regularly before his marriage split. The only thing he disliked was the difficulty getting parked on or near the busy main road. However, today being Saturday, he easily managed to find a space in the teachers" car park of the adjacent primary school.

As Alex and the boys came through the front door, their senses were assaulted by the pungent aroma of cheeses, salami, olives and fresh bread. Running nearly the full length of the room, a cold counter was filled with enticing delicacies. Behind were shelves filled with continental breads and to the side a separate smaller chilled cabinet with several shelves containing wonderful looking cakes and desserts. The main area was set out with metal framed tables and chairs and the back wall had a large hatchway giving clear visibility into the kitchen.

Rico, one of the owners, came across to personally welcome them back.

“Alex, it"s been a while. How are you? What have you been up to?”

“Can"t complain,” he replied, “at least no one ever wants to hear when I do. It"s good to be back. The boys love coming in here and they"re ravenous because we"ve just been for a swim. We don"t have a lot of time either "cause we"ve got tickets for Ibrox this afternoon. It"s a three o"clock kick off.”

“Not a problem, I"ll get the menus over to you right away. Who"s Rangers playing?”

“Dundee United today.”

“That"s not likely to be much of a challenge the way Rangers have been playing recently.”

“I hope not, but we"ll see.”

“You want a "Peroni" as usual?”

“Better not, I"m driving.”

Craig"s order was Panini with salad, Andrew"s was Gnocchi Bolognese and Alex couldn"t resist a Spaghetti Carbonara. They all wolfed down their food accompanied by Ferrarelle mineral water. To follow, the boys each asked for their favourite Scottish Tablet Ice Cream while Alex ordered an espresso.

Just as he was about to lift the cup, Alex felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I was just walking past the window and I thought I recognised you. I don"t often see you in these parts, not these days.”

The figure standing over Alex looked much older than him. He was slightly less than six foot tall, muscular shoulders but with quite a stocky build. His heavy round face had a pale complexion with bloodshot eyes and puffy jowls. The little hair he had was grey and wispy and surrounded a bald pate. His most prominent feature was a thin red line running from the front of his ear across his pudgy cheek and down to his chin. This had been incurred when he"d been slashed in the course of carrying out an arrest early in his career. He"d required emergency treatment and had lost almost a month of service, returning with an unmistakeable visage and an award for bravery.

“Hello, Bill. I"m looking after the lads this weekend. We"ve been swimming and then we"re off to the footie.”

“Don"t let me disturb you,” Bill replied. “I just saw you there and thought I ought to say hi.”

“That"s okay, come and join us for a coffee. I hardly ever see you now you"ve made it to the command corridor.”

William Forbes had recently been promoted to become an Assistant Chief Constable. He and Alex had joined the force and undergone their training at the Tulliallan Police Training College at the same time. They"d both been recognised as high flyers and neither of them had disappointed expectations. They had stayed close friends for years and attended each other"s weddings. William"s life had been struck by tragedy. Fourteen years ago, around the same time as Craig was born, William"s daughter, at only three months old was diagnosed with a rare cancer and only survived two more weeks. He and his wife couldn"t come to terms with the loss. They each looked for reasons to blame themselves and then to blame each other. He had continued smoking during the first months of the pregnancy and she had taken anti-nausea medication. They dreamt up other causes when they looked hard enough. Of course there was no link, but they were looking for excuses to be able to attach blame. Within the space of a few weeks they transformed from being a loving inseparable couple into two individuals who couldn"t talk and hated even being in the same room together. Their medical advisors, their families and their friends all tried to console them, immersing them in platitudes, telling them there was nothing they could have done, it wasn"t their fault, time was a great healer and they were still young and would be able to have other children. None of it helped, quite the contrary, and there was no likelihood of more children when they couldn"t stand even looking at one another. William immersed himself in his work and his wife started drinking more and more in an attempt to escape reality. Exactly one year after the loss of his daughter, William"s wife"s car went out of control on the M8 motorway between Glasgow and Edinburgh and collided with a concrete bridge. It was a clear night and no other vehicle was involved. Although suicide couldn"t be ruled out, the fatal accident enquiry concluded it had been an accident. This of course didn"t stop the gossipmongers, who claimed William"s coldness after his daughter"s death drove his wife to taking her own life. William was aware of the rumours, but he didn"t care and couldn"t see beyond the self-obsession of his own pain. If anything, he withdrew even further and unable to engage in any social interaction, he devoted himself totally to his work. He made rapid progress through the ranks. He had no religion, he didn"t partake in sports and rarely socialised. His only known interest outside of the police was working to support cancer charities, particularly children"s ones. He held executive office on the boards and committees of the ones he was most passionate about.

Forbes pulled up a chair and called across to order a cappuccino.

“I hear you"re looking into the Stevenson case. Have you got any good leads yet?”

Alex was surprised that Bill was interested, as it was not his province and Bill was normally very focused. However, Alex realised this murder had all the makings of a high profile case which would be discussed by the top corridor. With Forbes himself being such a workaholic, he wondered if there was some implied criticism of his taking the weekend off. “It"s still early days yet,” he replied, not wanting to say too much. “There"s some interesting features being investigated and I"ve got Sandra McKinnon on the ground, and she"s keeping me briefed. I"ve had this weekend planned for ages, but although I"m not in the office, I"m still keeping my finger on the pulse,” he added defensively.

“Yes, I"ve heard she"s a good girl, she"s got a lot of potential.”

Alex could see the boys were starting to look a bit bored. “Why don"t you drop into my office on Monday and I can give you a full update,” he added indicating he didn"t want to have this conversation in front of the lads.

“No, that"s okay, none of my business anyway, just curious. You said you"re off to the footie, what game?”

“I"m taking the boys over to Ibrox for the Dundee United game. They"re both Rangers fans.”

“Och, you"re wasting your time with the big teams. Money"s spoiled the game and taken all the fun out of it. McCoist"s done a great job as manager but I think the new board are trouble. I"ve had to mop up some of the mess left by one of Craig Whyte"s earlier deals and I don"t rate him at all well. No, you lads, if you want to go to a game worth watching, you should follow a smaller team. Something like Clyde. I"ve supported the "Bully Wee" since I was a nipper and we may not have won any trophies but I"ve never been disappointed by their commitment. You ought to come with me sometime.”

“What"s wrong, are you feeling lonely, being the only one on the terracing supporting them?”

“Right, you have a point but it"s still better than being crammed into a stadium where the players don"t give a damn about the game, only the money. Anyway, while I"ve caught you here, I just happen to have some raffle tickets. It"s the autumn draw for the Scottish Junior Cancer Foundation and it is being drawn during the gala dinner we"re holding tomorrow night. As I"m the Treasurer, I"ve got a seat at the top table, so I"ll make sure you have a fair chance. It"s a black tie affair and I"m just on my way to get my kilt out of mothballs. So, you"re bound to want some tickets. First prize is a Ford Ka. Only a pound a ticket or five pounds a book.”

“Give me two books,” Alex replied slipping a tenner out of his wallet.

“What"s going on here? I"ve warned you before about soliciting on my premises,” Rico asked, grinning, as he placed the frothy coffee in front of Bill.

“Guilty as charged. Don"t worry, I won"t drive away any of your good custom, just delinquents like this one.”

“That"s okay, put me down for a couple of books as well.”