‘No problem. I copied that section as well; just let me cue it up.’ She turned back to her console and set to work. ‘You’ll see four of them,’ she murmured. ‘Three men, one woman; they arrived just after half two and left just after six, on foot, heading for a restaurant, pub, whatever.’

  She started the clip; he watched it to its conclusion, in silence, seeing it unfold as she had described. ‘The three men are players,’ she volunteered. ‘I don’t know who the woman is, though.’

  ‘I can guess,’ Skinner responded. ‘I have a list of the Merrytown staff; it includes a woman called Alice McDade, the club physio. Those were the initials on her training top. I can only guess at what she was doing there.’

  ‘Was one of them injured?’ Hoy asked. ‘Could she have been treating him?’

  ‘Possibly, but I doubt that it would have been in the sense that you mean. Orlando Flowers was massaging her bum gently on the way down in the lift.’

  She smiled. ‘Ah! I didn’t notice that. It is a big apartment,’ she murmured. ‘Three bedrooms, all en suite.’

  ‘I see. What about the other apartment on that floor? Is it occupied?’

  ‘No,’ she answered. ‘The football club lease the top two floors, but that one’s left vacant, for use by the occasional visitor. A man called Serra stayed there a couple of times, when the transfer window was open; he’s Mr Fonter’s agent, I believe. The owner, Mr Rogozin, he has used it as well, but only on occasion. I believe he stays in a hotel in Glasgow on most of his visits.’

  Skinner felt a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, but he did not allow his surprise to register on his face. ‘When was the last time he used it?’ The question was as casual as he could make it sound, but inwardly he was buzzing.

  ‘The week before last; on a Thursday, as I recall. I remember thinking it was unusual. Merrytown had a Europa League tie that night; the players were all away in Finland and yet the owner was here.’

  ‘You don’t happen to have the security tapes for that night, do you?’

  ‘No, sorry. We erase them after a week. The owners wouldn’t like it if we kept them for longer than was necessary.’

  He nodded. ‘Sure, I understand that,’ he conceded. ‘How secure is the building, Ms Hoy?’ he asked. ‘Can the upper floors be accessed by any means other than by the lift? There must be stairs, surely.’

  ‘The stairway goes to the sixth floor but no higher,’ she explained. ‘The floors below can’t access the top two levels at the back of the block. Those have their own internal fire escape stair. There are doors at the back of the penthouse and in the apartments below.’

  ‘Where’s the exit at ground level?’

  ‘At the back of the building; it opens on to a lane and cycleway that goes down to the Meadows.’

  ‘Is there CCTV coverage there?’

  ‘No need; it’s secure.’

  ‘So in theory someone could use that back stairway to go all the way up to the penthouse?’

  ‘In theory,’ she agreed, ‘but they’d need a machine to force the door; a hand-held ram wouldn’t do it. Suppose they did, once they got up there they wouldn’t be able to get in. The apartment fire doors are steel as well, with multi-point security and they can only be opened from the inside. I’m sorry, Mr Skinner, I can see where you’re going with your questioning, but believe me, that apartment is intruder proof. I promise you, the person who killed poor Annette got in through the front door, and by no other way.’

  Thirty-Seven

  ‘Of course we knew Annette,’ Jimmy Pike replied. ‘She was Paco’s missus, so she came along to our nights out.’

  ‘Did you see much of her as a neighbour?’ Skinner continued.

  The footballer leaned back in his chair as he considered the question, gazing through the window of the Merrytown training complex cafeteria at the three pitches outside. Two were deserted, but on the third a six-a-side game was under way, one team wearing yellow bibs, the other purple. ‘No, not a hell of a lot,’ he admitted. ‘It’s an unusual situation, living so close to a teammate; the three of us gave Paco and Annette their own space. Mind you, she was away quite often,’ he added, ‘on ’er modelling jobs.’

  ‘Even then,’ Art Mustard chipped in, ‘we didn’t go ringing Paco’s doorbell. He wasn’t, well . . .’

  ‘One of the lads?’ Skinner asked.

  ‘No, not really. He missed Annette when she was on a trip, but, I dunno, I think he sort of enjoyed it too, the absences being part of her being famous. Know what I mean? He worshipped her, man. I tell you, if he ever gets his hands on the boss, he’ll fucking kill him. Paco’s a lovely fella, but if there’s one guy in the world I wouldn’t want getting mad at me, it’s him.’

  Pike and Orlando Flowers nodded agreement. ‘Hardest man in the squad,’ the Englishman volunteered.

  Skinner smiled. ‘You don’t hear that said about a striker very often,’ he suggested.

  Mustard laughed. ‘You’re not a football man, mate, or you’d know better. Trust me, I’ve been a centre back all my career and I’ve come up against some seriously hard men. They have to be if they’re going to make it to the top, with guys like me knocking fuck out of them every Saturday. Did you ever play the game?’

  ‘Not seriously,’ he conceded ‘but I still do, most weeks. A bunch of us have a five-a-side group, every Thursday in North Berwick Sports Centre; we’ve been going for over twenty-five years now.’

  Pike eyed him up. ‘You might be well ’ard too,’ he suggested. ‘What position you play?’

  ‘Any position I fucking like, mate.’ He drained his soft drink, then looked round his companions. ‘Okay, back to last Friday; you all got back to Edinburgh around two thirty and went straight up to your apartment.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Orlando Flowers agreed, ‘but there were four of us. Alice was there too.’

  ‘Yes,’ Skinner said, ‘I was aware of that. She was with you, am I right?’

  The American nodded. ‘You are; we’re an item.’

  ‘Okay. So you were there for about four hours. Did you pass the time together or individually?’

  ‘We all went to our rooms,’ Mustard replied. ‘We had no game last weekend but Tank Bridges didn’t go easy on the training. In fact, it was tougher than usual.’

  ‘He’s a fuckin’ sadist, that bastard,’ Pike growled. ‘He was just the same in France, with DuPain. I hope they bring in the boss’s replacement soon, so we get rid of fuckin’ Bridges.’

  ‘Don’t be a pussy, Jimmy,’ the club captain chuckled. ‘What else would you do with that surplus energy? You don’t have a steady woman to burn it off you, not like Olly here. I do,’ he added, glancing at Skinner, ‘but she back in Trinidad having our second baby. Anyway,’ he drawled on, ‘we all in our rooms, restin’ for the evening. Alice wanted to see Mamma Mia , the stage show, so we all got tickets. The game plan was go for a meal then the show, and back home not too late ’cos we had to meet the squad next morning for the bus to the hotel.’

  ‘In all that time,’ Skinner asked, ‘did any of you hear anything from the penthouse?’

  ‘I heard Annette come in,’ Flowers volunteered. ‘I was in the hall at the time and I heard the lift going up.’

  ‘How did you know which way it was going?’

  ‘Heard it stop and the door open. It’s not the quietest.’

  He looked around the group. ‘Did anyone else hear it again?’

  Each of the trio shook his head.

  ‘Okay, other than that, was there any noise from above, any sound at all?’

  ‘I thought I heard a door bang one time,’ Mustard said. ‘But it could have been from the apartment below. Gen’rally, the sound insulation in the building is good. We hear very little from outside, only that noisy lift.’

  ‘So if the neighbours had an argument, you wouldn’t hear it?’

  The West Indian smiled. ‘How would I know that if they never did?’ he countered. ‘Paco and Annette, I can’t imagine they ever fought. Any time I saw them together they was always smiling at each other. Ain’t that true, boys?’ he asked the others.

  ‘Absolutely,’ Pike agreed. ‘They never did. Lucky bastards. When I was married we fought all the time. We got threatened with the local equivalent of an ASBO once when we lived in France. That’s when I was big time,’ he added in explanation, ‘and playing for a proper team in a proper league.’

  Skinner felt his Scottish hackles rise. ‘That’s what you think of Merrytown, is it?’ he murmured.

  ‘No, no,’ the English footballer exclaimed, quickly, ‘I didn’t mean to be disrespectful. Merrytown pays my wages, it’s just that . . .’ He paused, putting his feelings into words. ‘Five years ago, I never thought I’d be playing outside the Premier League at this stage of my career. I knew it would finish up eventually, early thirties, the age I am now, but I assumed the next stage would be a step down to the Championship and that I’d have another few years, maybe all of them at that level. As it happens I went to France instead, and now I’m ’ere. But the trouble is . . .’ He looked at the club captain, helplessly. ‘What am I tryin’ to say here, Art?’

  ‘You’re trying to say,’ Mustard told him, ‘that we are none of us in control of our own destiny these days. We all have agents, and they play a big part in our lives. You thought Championship, Jimmy, but the agent, he thinks, where can I make the most money, for my player, and for me? So when we get to this stage, to the second half of our playing career, the offer that is put to us, it’s the offer that the agent decides we’ll see. When we’re younger, maybe clubs get into bidding wars over us, but step over the thirty threshold and that don’t happen.’

  ‘Who’s your agent, Jimmy?’ Skinner asked.

  ‘Cisco Serra,’ Pike replied.

  ‘You too? He’s had a big influence on Merrytown.’

  ‘He sure has,’ Flowers agreed. ‘He’s not my agent, but he approached my guy on behalf of Merrytown, and brokered the deal. Both of them would pick up a fee on the back of my deal.’

  ‘Same here,’ Mustard volunteered. ‘I was playing in Belgium; I didn’t have an agent, havin’ just fired my last one, and Cisco approached me, on behalf of Merrytown. He told me that the owner had ambition for the club and he was prepared to back it with cash. He even threw in the apartment as part of the deal.’ He grinned. ‘Didn’t tell me about these guys at the time, but it’s worked out okay, with us all being on our own . . . unless you count Alice, but she’s only an occasional visitor.’

  ‘How about Chaz Baker?’ Skinner asked. ‘Have you ever seen him here?’

  All three men looked at him; none of them was smiling. The captain assumed the role of spokesman. ‘Absolutely not. Never. This is where we live; the boss don’t come where we live. It ain’t his place. I know, I know,’ he continued, his tone agitated. ‘There’s talk about him and Annette havin’ an affair. Me, I don’ believe it, but if they was, they wouldn’t be having it in Paco’s place.’

  ‘Is there?’ he exclaimed. ‘Is there talk about Chaz and Annette? I haven’t seen that suggestion in any newspaper.’

  Mustard seemed taken aback by the question. ‘It’s the talk on the training ground,’ he offered in reply. ‘Ain’t that right, Jimmy? You heard the story, didn’t you? It was you told me.’

  ’And who told you, Jimmy?’

  The Englishman pursed his lips. ‘A Partick Thistle player, I think,’ he murmured, ‘but I can’t remember his name.’

  ‘Do you believe it, Art?’

  ‘Last week I’d have laughed at the idea,’ Mustard said. ‘But that was before Annette was murdered and the boss was arrested for killing her. After that, I wouldn’t cross out anything.’

  ‘Well, I don’t believe it,’ Jimmy Pike declared. ‘Not Chaz, no way.’

  ‘He’ll be pleased to hear that,’ Skinner said. ‘He’s maintaining his innocence.’

  ‘And it’s your job to prove it, yes?’ Flowers suggested. ‘That’s got to be why you’re here, yes?’

  ‘I’m here on behalf of his lawyer, yes, and that’s her job.’

  ‘Then she better be damn good at it. That guy I saw on television on Sunday, the prosecutor, he seemed damn sure of himself.’

  ‘Of course, and that’s his job too. But what you have to remember about lawyers involved in a criminal case is that by definition fifty per cent of them are wrong. Don’t base your judgement on confidence alone.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ Mustard said. ‘Is that all, sir, or do you have anything else to ask us?’

  ‘Only one thing, about the apartment next to yours. Is it occupied often?’

  ‘Not very often. The owner, Mr Rogozin, he was there a couple of weeks back. And Lita, the doc, the boss’s wife; she’s used it a couple of times when she’s been shopping in Edinburgh.’ He grinned. ‘She likes Harvey Nichols, and she goes to a hairdresser just down the hill from there. She’s never stayed over though, far as I know.’

  ‘Between the four of us, what do you make of him? Rogozin?’

  The Trinidadian looked at his teammates; it seemed that they were having a conversation without words. ‘Owners are owners,’ he replied, when a consensus had been reached. ‘They’re the same as lambs are to a farmer; you can like them, or not, as the case may be, but not too much; you don’t get close to them. Rogozin pays our wages, and that’s it.’

  Skinner might have pressed him further had his phone not played its tune. He excused himself and took the call.

  ‘Pops,’ his daughter said, ‘where are you?’

  ‘Merrytown, talking to some people, but I’m done now. Why?’

  ‘I’ve just had a call from Sammy Pye. He wouldn’t go into detail but he wants to see me as soon as possible, and he said you should be there too, if possible. He’s coming here at five thirty.’

  He checked his watch. ‘I can make that,’ he told her. ‘Is it good news or bad, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know. All I can say for sure is that it’s got him excited.’

  ‘That’s a rare occurrence with DCI Pye,’ Skinner declared. ‘I’m on my way.’

  Thirty-Eight

  ‘How much is all this going to cost our client?’ Alex Skinner asked her father as she handed him a bottle of mineral water. ‘You’ve covered a lot of territory in the last couple of days.’

  ‘I don’t have a clue,’ he answered cheerfully. ‘It’ll probably depend on the outcome. What’s the going Legal Aid rate?’

  ‘Don’t make me laugh,’ she said. ‘How did it go today?’

  ‘To be honest, I haven’t learned anything new, other than the fact that the apartment next to the players’ place has been used by Rogozin. I’d be interested to know why he was there a couple of Thursdays ago, but I’ll have to wait to ask him. I’m planning to invite myself to the Merrytown home game on Saturday; I should bump into him there.’

  ‘How are you going to pull that off? I’d have thought that the club would want to keep you at a distance, all things considered.’

  ‘The chief executive might, Rogozin might, but if I’m there as the guest of a director there won’t be a hell of a lot they can do about it.’

  ‘A director?’ she repeated ‘You mean . . .’

  ‘That’s right, Cameron McCullough. I might need a long spoon for the soup course, but it’s a price I’m ready to pay if it helps Baker. I called Mia on the way here to ask if she could fix it up. She didn’t pick up, but I left a message.’

  His daughter frowned. ‘Pops, you don’t want to be getting too close to that woman.’

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s no danger of that, but we’re singing from the same song sheet as far as Ignacio’s concerned, so I thought I’d cash in on her spirit of cooperation.’

  ‘Mmm.’ She looked doubtful, but let it drop. ‘How about the rest of it? Did you meet the four who were on the tape?’

  ‘Only the players. We were right about Alice the physio, she’s with Flowers, but she couldn’t join us this afternoon. None of them are going to be any use as witnesses. Flowers heard the lift go up, but apart from that, none of them had anything to say.’

  ‘Did you ask them about drug use?’

  ‘Why the hell would I do that? I wanted their cooperation, not to antagonise them by quizzing them about footballers’ nose candy habits. Besides, they gave me the distinct impression that I’d have been wasting my time. The three of them are mature men, serious professionals; there’s nothing laddish about any of them. The only thing I picked up from them concerned Serra, the agent. I didn’t realise he was as deeply into the club as he is. I knew that Paco and Chaz are both clients, but Pike is too and it seems that he was involved in bringing in Mustard, and Flowers as well. He acts directly for Jimmy, and he found the other two on behalf of the club. He must have cost Rogozin a bundle in fees over the last couple of years.’

  ‘Can you have a foot in both camps like that?’ Alex wondered.

  ‘It seems so. I don’t know how ethical it is, but to be honest I don’t care either. It’s a murky world, with its own rules and practices.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘but in corporate terms it’s a business like any other. In my former life I did a couple of deals involving football clubs; the law’s the same as anywhere else, so are the principles.’

  ‘The law might be, but when personal vanity is introduced, established principles and rational behaviour go out the window. As a friend of mine said once, when many otherwise successful businessmen walk into the boardroom of a football club, they leave their brains in the car park.’

  He checked his watch, with a quick, impatient frown. ‘Quarter to six: where are the guys?’

  ‘They said they’d try and make it for half five, but they didn’t promise. Do you have to be home soon?’

  ‘If I want to spend the evening with my kids, yes I do.’

  ‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘I can fill you in later.’

  ‘I think I . . .’