Stirling was still smiling at Mann’s exasperation as he laid the box on the floor beside his chair and removed the top file, a summary of the detailed report to the prosecution. The opening section described the structure of the police investigation, from the discovery of Leo Speight’s lifeless body in his house in Ayr . . . one of several homes . . . after he failed to appear for a meeting with a publisher in the Turnberry Hotel . . . ‘I might not have turned up there either,’ Stirling murmured as he read . . . through the compilation of a list of people of interest, to their interviews and elimination, one by one, the emergence of a strong line of enquiry that implicated Faye Bulloch only to conclude abruptly after forensic evidence that pinpointed the cause of the ex-boxer’s death rendered the entire process irrelevant.

  Delving deeper into the box, he found the files that he was after, individual reports on the people interviewed, their background, relationship to the dead man and their recent involvement with him. He opened the first, and read.

  Gene Alderney: not a man, as he had assumed, a woman in a male-driven business, matchmaker for Stoddart Promotions, the company Speight had chosen to guide his career after leaving the amateurs as an Olympic silver medallist. She was the partner of Benny Stoddart, long retired and living in Arizona. Her identity was false. In fact she was Russian, real name Lyudmila Brezinskova, mother of one Yevgeny Brezinski, an opponent of Speight as both amateur and professional.

  Charles Baxter: Leo Speight’s property adviser and co-executor with Butler. Chartered surveyor and partner in an Edinburgh firm. Outside Leo’s professional boxing circle but still close, and the only man who knew the full extent of his property holdings.

  Gino Butler: Leo Speight’s accountant, manager and friend from youth. Knew everything about Speight’s business. With Faye Bulloch before Leo, and it was he who introduced them. That relationship may have been renewed for latterly they were close. Gino knew everything about Speight’s business and was involved in obtaining a UK passport for Swords/Mechikov, and a false identity for Gene Alderney. Profound dislike of Bryce Stoddart. Suspected of encouraging Faye to take Leo to court. One of Speight’s two executors, with Charles Baxter.

  Augusta Cambridge: Live event artist and friend of Leo, painted all his fights and gave him a 5% commission on her subsequent print sales. Present at Leo’s retirement party and gave the investigating officers several leads.

  Rae Letts: Leo’s Las Vegas girlfriend and the mother of his child. She knew most of the people in his circle and was present at the retirement event that preceded Speight’s death, but was a peripheral figure in the investigation.

  Aldorino Moscardinetto: an Italian film director who had been making a documentary on boxing in collaboration with Leo Speight, and who had interviewed several people in his circle. Murdered by Swords/Mechikov when he had interrupted him trying to steal his laptop from his hotel room.

  Gordon Pollock: Leo Speight’s son with Trudi Pollock, his teenage girlfriend. Not yet twenty when his father died and kept away by him from the boxing business, so had no involvement in the matters uncovered following Leo’s death. Inherited his hotel businesses, which were considerable.

  Trudi Pollock: Leo Speight’s teenage girlfriend. Fell pregnant by him and gave birth to his son, Gordon. Never a suspect, but influenced events when she discovered that Leo was planning to marry Sandra Bulloch and was provoked into revealing it to Faye. Worked as Gino Butler’s secretary. Left £1m in Speight’s will.

  Bryce Stoddart: son of Benny, running the promotion company after his retirement. Lightly regarded by Speight, but aware of the illicit relationship with Zirka, a Russian promotional company and of secret payments being made by his own company to the Russians. Ordered the break-in that led to the murder of Moscardinetto and imprisoned in consequence.

  Billy Swords: another transplanted Russian, real name Uilyam Mechikov. Ring announcer for Stoddart production and for Zirka, which Alderney ran, from a distance. Currently in prison in Scotland having been convicted of the murder of Aldorino Moscardinetto, in which Alderney and Bryce Stoddart were implicated.

  Stirling replaced the folders and leaned back in his chair, considering the options. He began with Bryce Stoddart, the man Craig Goram had named as the mystery caller. Mann had thought it unlikely that it had been him, but thoroughness demanded that he be eliminated. He searched for and found the phone number of Longstone Prison in Oxfordshire, where Mann’s check had led her.

  His landline call was answered quickly; he asked for and was connected to the Governor’s office where a female staff member picked it up. ‘This is Detective Sergeant John Stirling, serious crimes team, Glasgow,’ he began, quoting his service number. ‘I’m working on a homicide investigation and the name of one of your inmates has come up. He’s not a suspect, but he’s alleged to have made a telephone call to one of our witnesses. I need to confirm whether or not that that’s the case.’

  ‘I don’t know if we’ll be able to help you,’ the woman said, ‘but I’ll try. What was the prisoner’s name?’

  ‘Stoddart.’ He spelled it out, letter by letter. ‘Bryce Stoddart. I’d like to know if he made any calls using the prison landline, and if they were recorded. This is the number that he’d have called.’ Once again he spelled out Craig Goram’s mobile number, digit by digit.

  ‘I’ll ask an assistant governor to look into that and call you back, Sergeant. I have your number on my screen.’

  He had barely replaced the clumsy handset in its cradle when his mobile sounded. ‘John,’ Lottie Mann said. ‘I’m just about to go into the meeting. How are you getting on?’

  ‘I’m waiting for a call back from Stoddart’s last prison,’ he told her, ‘but to eliminate him more than anything else. From what I’ve read he seems to have been a lightweight really, taking his orders latterly from Speight and Alderney. Also I’m finding it hard to see any connection between him and Leo’s private life. But,’ he cautioned, ‘that doesn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t one. On the face of it you wouldn’t think that Rae Letts had ever heard of Charles Baxter, given the geography between them, but she actually met him.’

  ‘True,’ the DCI murmured. ‘I’d forgotten that.’

  ‘However, boss, the person I would put at the head of the list for a visit would be Gino Butler. He was by Speight’s side from the very beginning, knew everything about him. He was Faye Bulloch’s boyfriend before she went after Leo, and they were close again before his death. Everything I’ve read about the guy, it’s telling me he’s not to be trusted. He’s top of my list as Goram’s mystery caller . . . that’s if we’re right and it wasn’t Stoddart.’

  ‘He’s top of mine too,’ Mann admitted. ‘I didn’t commit myself before because I wanted you to stay objective. Let me get through this interview and we’ll pay him a visit . . . that’s assuming we can find him.’

  ‘I’ll take a look at his social media,’ Stirling said. ‘See what’s been posted lately. That may tell us where he is.’

  ‘Are you sure he had a profile?’

  ‘I know he has, boss. Last week I looked at everyone who was a contact of Sandra Bulloch, direct and indirect. She didn’t herself, but I was looking for recent references to her. Gino Butler’s on Instagram and X.’

  ‘Okay, do that now. I’ve just been called in to see Ms Mansfield.’

  Stirling pulled his monitor towards him and touched a button on his keyboard to bring it back to life. He was waiting for the system to fire up when his landline rang. He snatched it up.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Stirling,’ the caller began. The DS detected a faint Irish accent ‘Ronnie Bush, assistant governor, Longstone. I have the information you were after. If you’d called next week, we’d probably have binned these records, but you’re in luck. Prisoner Bryce Stoddart made very few calls during his time with us, and all of them were to the same number in the United States. They were international so he had to tell us who he was calling. The recipient was one Lyudmila Brezinskova. I don’t know anything about her, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I do,’ the DS said. ‘She’s Stoddart’s father’s partner.’

  ‘Late father,’ Bush corrected him. ‘I found a note on his file advising of his death, while he was with us. But his next of kin was listed as Genevieve Alderney.’

  ‘One and the same. She took the Alderney name when she applied for a British passport. It was dodgy, so probably wouldn’t have passed the scrutiny of US immigration. That’s the extent of his phone records then? Calls to her?’

  ‘Outgoing, yes, and they stopped after his father’s death. But,’ the assistant governor continued, ‘he did have one incoming call during his time here. It lasted for twenty-one minutes. That would include the time it took to bring Stoddart to the phone.’

  ‘Did the caller identify themselves?’

  ‘Of course, that’s a requirement. His name’s listed here as Gordon Pollock.’

  Thirty-Six

  ‘That is very good of you, Bob. I’m pleased that the police are finally getting off their backsides. But,’ Raul Sanchez paused, ‘it makes me afraid for Inge and her colleagues.’

  ‘Don’t be,’ Skinner assured him. ‘They’re safer than they were without police involvement. It means that everything coming into their offices will be scanned, and they’ll have discreet personal security too. Your household mail will be scrutinised too, by the Correos and private delivery companies.’

  ‘Will they catch these people, do you think?’

  ‘It depends on how good they are, and how careless the senders have been. From what I’ve been told they’ve made one mistake already. What about the client, Ciervorapido? Has Inge said anything about their reaction?’

  ‘They are anxious, she says, very sympathetic. They said they’re afraid that the agency will give up their account, given all the effort and investment that’s been committed to the project, but Inge and her colleagues have told them that is not going to happen. Also, Inge says they are most relieved that the incidents have not become known to the public. I think that’s their big worry. It’s a new product and they’re afraid that being targeted by fanatics like these will affect its sales. If that happens, I can tell you as a banker, they will be in big trouble, because their lenders will be likely to minimise any losses and walk away.’

  ‘To be frank, Raul,’ Skinner said, ‘my surprise is that the incident hasn’t hit the press yet. I didn’t have a lot of experience of this sort of thing in my police career, but from the little I did, I’d be expecting these holy bloody Sisters or whatever they are to be splashing themselves all over the news cycles. I’ve done an internet search for them, but can’t find a trace. It could be they’re scared that if they do reveal themselves they’ll lead the police straight to their door. If that’s the case they really are amateurs.’ He chuckled. ‘I hope you realise that you’ve landed me on a very horny dilemma. I’m the head of an international media group. I am the fucking press, you’ve given me a cracking news story and here I am sitting on it.’

  ‘My God!’ Sanchez exclaimed. ‘That had not occurred to me! In that case my friend, do not let me compromise you. Of course you must do your duty to your company. Whatever the consequences are, they must be borne.’

  ‘Let’s not rush into anything. Yes, it’s a news story. I’m no journalist, but I’m learning, and it seems to me that it’s one that needs to be developed, before it’s broken, ideally with the arrest of these Sisters of the Trinity. I don’t want to downplay the Mossos, but my people are pretty good investigators too. Let me talk to my senior colleague and see if we can make progress without stepping on their toes. Do you know,’ he asked, ‘whether the agency retained images of the letter and the packages that were delivered, specifically of the two labels.’

  ‘I think they still have them,’ Sanchez replied, ‘but I can find out with one phone call to my wife.’

  ‘Then make it,’ Skinner instructed him. ‘If they did, have them emailed to my personal address, which I will text you. Top quality please, soon as you can.’

  ‘I will do that, Bob,’ his friend promised, ‘right now.’

  The call ended. Skinner leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling for a few seconds before returning to his phone and placing a call to his closest colleague. ‘Hector?’ he said as it was answered. ‘Got a minute? I might have a scoop for us.’

  Thirty-Seven

  ‘I don’t know if I should be taking this call,’ Bryce Stoddart said. ‘I’ve said everything to you lot that I ever want to say. Frankly, mate, if I didn’t have a parole board coming up, I’d tell you to fuck off.’

  ‘I’ll treat it as my lucky day,’ John Stirling replied. ‘I want to ask you about another phone call, one you received when you were detained at Longstone Prison. I’m told that the caller identified himself as Gordon Pollock, and that you spoke for around fifteen minutes. Is that correct?’

  ‘It’s a year ago, so I’ll take your word about the duration, but yes, it was young Gordon that called me . . . Leo Speight’s boy.’

  ‘Can I ask why?’

  ‘I dunno, really. He said he was just ringing to see how I was getting along. Said he thought I was unlucky to have wound up inside, seein’ as how the guy who did the actual crime did it off his own bat, like. I told him I agreed with that one hundred per cent and if he’d like to tell my brief as much it might do me a bit of good come the parole hearing. Dunno if he did though.’

  ‘How well do you know Mr Pollock?’

  ‘Gordon?’ Stoddart exclaimed. ‘Like I said, he’s Leo’s kid, in’ he. Leo Speight, my boy, my champ. He ’ad him the lad with that Trudi girl, the one that worked for Gino Butler, when they were just kids themselves. Tell you the truth, when I was told it was him calling me, I wondered if he was going to ask me to manage him when I get out. Leo would never let him near a boxing ring, although I know the boy was keen. Mind you he’d have been wasting his time if he had asked me. Stoddart Promotions is pretty well fucked. The Board of Control cancelled our licence when I got sent down, and I won’t be getting it back any time soon. Not that I’ll need it, mind. Leo made me a ton of money and the lawyers haven’t taken all of it.’

  ‘And did he? Ask you to promote him?’

  ‘Nah. Never mentioned it once. Just asked how I was getting on, said we might meet up when I got out. Said ’e lives in London now. He didn’t find it comfortable livin’ in Scotland after Leo went. If people found out he was ’is kid, it put a bit of a target on ’is back. I can understand that.’ Stoddart paused; somehow Stirling sensed him smiling. ‘I was in Glasgow with Leo one night,’ he resumed, ‘at a black tie do, and this big bloke, a proper gorilla with a couple of drinks in ’im, started mouthing off at ’im.’

  ‘What happened?’ Stirling asked.

  ‘Nuffin’. Nuffin’ at all. Leo just looked up at him, straight in the eye, and said ‘”Really?” very quiet like. Straight away the big guy knew what sort of trouble he was askin’ for, he thought about it and he just disappeared. Lot of fighters, big name fighters, have security, muscle, around them to take care of stuff like that. Leo never needed those. He was a lovely guy, but he could be fuckin’ terrifying. Young Gordon, though, ’e couldn’t have handled that, so he’s better off out of it.’

  ‘Have you kept in touch since he called you?’

  ‘No,’ Stoddart said. ‘I wouldn’t know how. He didn’t leave a number and ’e’s never called since. Mind you,’ he added, ‘he might not know I’ve been moved ’ere.’

  Stirling felt that he was approaching a dead end. ‘Was that the extent of your conversation?’

  ‘More or less. He did ask me one thing, though. Asked if I knew what the Bulloch woman was doing? “What? Faye?” I asked him but he said no, the other one, ’er sister. Told ’im, “How the fuck would I know mate?” And how would I? I never met the woman.’

  Thirty-Eight

  ‘On the face of it,’ Hector Sureda said, ‘we have enough information to run the story now.’

  ‘We do,’ Skinner agreed, ‘but if we do we risk compromising police investigations in both Barcelona and Madrid, and in the process I will burn a very good contact in the Mossos. Not just her,’ he added, ‘but more than likely her boss too, Major Teijero. He’s a guy we need to be alongside as an organisation.’

  ‘I know that,’ the CEO admitted. ‘And yet, we have a public duty as journalists to report the facts as we know them.’

  ‘I accept that, Hector, but . . . maybe this story would be the better for a little more in depth investigation. You and I, we’re not journos but you have the trade in your blood, and so do I in a way, after thirty years as an investigator.’

  ‘The problem with that,’ Sureda observed, ‘is that if we set a journalist to work on this story, they will report to Mario Fuentes, the editor of GironaDia. Mario is an absolute zealot, who would compromise the Pope as a source out of sheer principle. How do we get round that?’

  ‘I can think of a way.’ A light smile showed on his face as he looked at his colleague. ‘Could you find me a promising young reporter, out to make a name, and too pragmatic to get hung up on those principles?’

  ‘Sure I could.’ Sureda nodded, vigorously. ‘I can think of the very one: Dolça Nuñez, she joined InterMedia as a graduate trainee a year ago and has been picking up experience on several titles, print and broadcast.’