‘And the fourth time?’ Haddock asked.

  ‘The fourth time, she tried to tell him to go away, but he said he had business to discuss with her. So she, like an idiot, went to his hotel; they had dinner in his suite. She felt woozy, and passed out. When she came to, she was naked, she was sore,’ her free hand fluttered briefly to her lap, ‘and he was taking photographs of her with his phone. She was hysterical, and he was laughing. She got dressed and he drove her home.’

  ‘Why didn’t she call the police as soon as he was gone, while his DNA was still on her and whatever drug he used was still in her system?’

  ‘Because he threatened her, in every way you could imagine. He said that if she talked, he would deny it all, say that it was her idea and that she had come to his hotel looking for sex. He said he would publish the photos on the Internet. He said that he knew people who would throw acid in her face for a couple of thousand euro. But worst of all he threatened Paco.’

  She finished the brandy, slammed the glass down on a side table and sighed. ‘This is where discretion comes in, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Paco is a clean-living guy save for one thing. He has a small drug habit. Not a problem as such, but a habit; cocaine. He’s careful though; he doesn’t mess about with the street stuff. His supplier in Pugliese was the team doctor. That’s how Rogozin found out about it. Another couple of players were users, there was talk and it reached him.’

  ‘He blackmailed her, through her husband.’ Pye’s face was grim.

  ‘Exactly. On top of all those other threats, he said that if she breathed a word to anyone, he would end her husband’s football career, and that the damage would ripple on to her own. She was terrified, not so much of the physical threat, but of that one. He was a horrible man and she knew he would do what he said.’

  ‘It wasn’t just the one time either, was it?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Whenever there was an opportunity, and there were plenty in Italy, he would come back.’

  ‘How did you find out about it?’

  ‘She told me a couple of weeks ago, after the last time. She had thought, hoped, that it was over when they left Italy. She felt more secure in the penthouse; you can’t come and go there without being seen. Then, one Friday night when the team was staying over in Aberdeen before a league game there, he called her. He said he was in the flat below, and told her to come down. She did and it was awful, worse than ever. She was desolate.’

  Burbujas’s eyes moistened; she reached for a tissue from a box on the table. ‘That was the last straw for poor Annette. She called me next day, and told me everything. I was appalled; horrified. I insisted that she call the police, but she said no, she’d deal with it herself. She asked me if I knew anyone in London who could get her a gun. I told her not to be crazy, but I was wasting my breath; she had turned. My gentle girl was ready to kill him.’

  ‘The text she sent to Chaz Baker,’ Haddock said, ‘it mentioned a secret. From what we know now, it’s a safe bet that she was talking about her persecution by Rogozin.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Burbujas conceded, limply.

  ‘When did Annette tell you about her relationship with Baker?’

  ‘She never did. I learned about it yesterday morning, from the papers. But now I know, certain things make sense. Obviously I knew about Annette’s real background, as opposed to the official biography. She did mention once that she’d like to trace her birth parents; I told her it was her business, but please be discreet about it. I didn’t want to look like a clown in the press.’

  ‘I suspect you didn’t want to risk career damage for her either,’ Pye observed.

  ‘One and the same thing,’ she admitted. ‘To be honest, Annette was my one major client. I have others but none are in the same league; their bookings are run by an assistant out of my London office. I stayed close to Annette all the time; that’s why I’m here. This place is rented.’

  ‘Did she tell you when the trace was successful?’

  ‘Yes, she did, but she said not to worry, that it would all stay under wraps. I should have twigged though, after Cisco Serra let slip that Annette had more or less ordered him to recruit Baker as a client, and when Serra made him a part of the move to Scotland.’ She sighed. ‘But I didn’t. I wish I had known; I could have managed the situation. Now it’s all gone to hell; she’s dead and you’re convinced that Baker killed her.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that you’re not?’ Haddock asked.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she replied. ‘I’m more concerned with who killed Rogozin.’

  ‘Why should that bother you? I imagine you’re glad he’s dead.’

  ‘I’m very happy about that. I’m worried because he wasn’t the only person I saw yesterday. Before I caught the train to Glasgow, I drove out to see Paco at his hotel and I told him the truth about Rogozin as well.’

  Fifty-Six

  ‘This isn’t proper, you know,’ Scotland’s Solicitor General said. ‘I shouldn’t be talking to you.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’ Skinner challenged. ‘I’m not a lawyer; I’m here as a member of the public.’

  ‘Ask yourself. You said exactly the same thing to me on the same subject when I visited you in the Royal.’

  He smiled, recognising the truth of de Matteo’s comment, but refused to be thrown off balance. ‘I’d had a bang on the head then,’ he countered. ‘The situation is different too: you were hoping that I’d persuade my daughter to accept a plea deal for her client that was against his interests. I’m here, in your office, as a concerned citizen, trying to save the public purse a large wad of cash . . . even though some of it would come to my kid in fee income.’

  ‘Nothing has changed from where I’m sitting. I’m still happy to prosecute Baker on the basis of the police evidence, circumstantial or not.’

  ‘If you do you’ll be risking your reputation,’ Skinner warned.

  ‘I do that every time I lead a case in the High Court,’ de Matteo countered.

  ‘Which is not very often. This is going to be the biggest trial of your career, Rocco. The whole country will be watching; when you fall over it could be terminal.’

  ‘I am very steady on my feet, thank you. I don’t see anything to worry me. The new evidence I’m hearing about from Pye, of sexual profligacy by the victim, strengthens my case against her brother, if anything.’

  ‘I’ve seen those photographs, but Sammy Pye has just advised Alex of the Burbujas woman’s statement. Annette was raped, and subsequently blackmailed, Rocco.’

  The lawyer’s smile came easily. ‘That’s all it is, Bob, a statement, by a woman wanting to salvage the reputation of her most valuable property, from whose estate she will presumably continue to draw income, as long as her name remains unsullied. Where’s the evidence of rape? Where’s the proof of coercion?’

  ‘Have you seen those photographs yet?’

  ‘Of a naked Bordeaux on crumpled bed sheets with come smears on the inside of her thigh? Yes, I’ve seen them, and so will the jury. When they do they’ll find it easy to accept that when she revealed that secret to her brother, he was outraged, they quarrelled violently and in that quarrel he killed her.’

  ‘Man,’ Skinner exclaimed, ‘you’re thinking headlines, you’re not thinking logic. If you were prosecuting Chaz for killing Rogozin, Annette’s story would offer a strong motive. But you’re not and you can’t because he was somewhere else when the Russian was murdered. If you ask the jury to agree with your interpretation, then you are inviting them to doubt you.’

  De Matteo pursed his lips. ‘Thank you for that,’ he said. ‘You may be right. In that case I won’t lead with the relationship with Rogozin at all. His name will never be mentioned. I don’t need him, because I have Baker and only Baker at the scene, I have his belt with his fingerprints, and no one else’s, around her neck, and I have her blood on his training top. Yes, I’ll be conservative, Bob.’

  Skinner glowered at him; the man had nothing but face cards and aces in his hand and both of them knew it. ‘My ex would make you wash your mouth out if she heard you use that word,’ he growled.

  ‘I doubt it. Aileen was very small c conservative. She only backed political certainties. The only risk I remember her taking was with that actor Joey Morrocco, and even that paid off in the long run, as it added a little spice to her CV.’ He recoiled slightly as he saw the flash of anger in the other man’s eyes. ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned him. You and she were still married at the time, weren’t you?’

  ‘You’re not sorry at all, Rocco, and you know full well that she was still Mrs Skinner when she was fucking Morrocco. You’re trying to wind me up, but it won’t work; I’m no paragon either. However, you have just made this personal, and that was a mistake on your part. You lead this case, and I’ll make sure you fall flat on your face.’

  The Solicitor General’s smile was supremely self-assured. ‘The only way your daughter will do that,’ he said, ‘will not be by proving that Baker didn’t kill Annette Bordeaux, because she can’t, it will be by proving who did.’

  Skinner looked down at him as he rose, his mind’s eye still picturing him with a hand of cards. ‘You know why I had a hundred per cent conviction rate as a cop?’ he asked. ‘Because I knew when to hold ’em, and I knew when to fold ’em. You’re going to learn that knack the hard way.’

  Fifty-Seven

  ‘Ah might have reservations about the way this investigation’s being handled, but I admit we’ve made progress,’ Dan Provan conceded.

  ‘Of sorts,’ Lottie Mann agreed. ‘We’re no nearer knowing who killed the guy, but we’ve crossed some people off the list.’

  ‘How about the woman wi’ the funny name? She was with Rogozin before he died. Should we give her a closer look, if only tae keep the fiscal happy?’

  ‘No need. Apart from the fact that by every description we have she’s too small, she gave Pye a return train ticket to Edinburgh, initialled by the conductor. As for McCullough, his car was picked up on CCTV going on to the motorway at twelve twenty-five. They’re out of the picture; now we can focus on Fonter, as Edinburgh suggested.’

  ‘Ordered, ye mean,’ the DS grunted.

  ‘No, I meant what I said. Pye’s a diplomat; he wants to be liked.’

  ‘He’s got some work tae do on that to convince me, but that’s by the by. I hope Paco Fonter’s no’ our man,’ he said. ‘He’s our best player.’

  He held the heavy door of the Central Hotel ajar for his colleague. ‘Ah could get used tae this place,’ he remarked. ‘I wish our office was this plush.’

  ‘Dan,’ she laughed, ‘you look like a fish on a bike in here. I know you scrub up well, but you don’t do it very often.’

  Two desks were positioned just inside the doorway. The first was untended, but a woman, clad in hotel livery, sat at the second. ‘You’ll be Kerry,’ Provan declared as he stepped up to her.

  ‘And you’ll be right, sir,’ she replied, tapping her lapel badge. Her hair was ginger; she looked and sounded as Irish as her name.

  ‘DS Provan, DI Mann,’ he said. ‘I was here earlier about the death of one of your guests.’

  ‘It was you that spoke to Ms Kilmarnock, was it? She’s gone for the night, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s okay; you seem to know everything about this place.’

  ‘On my shift, yes. How long will we have to keep the JFK suite closed?’ she asked, tangentially. ‘We had to move a guest this afternoon, and we have a booking from Thursday through Sunday.’

  ‘As soon as our forensic team is finished,’ Mann assured her, ‘you can have it back. Tomorrow latest, I should think. For now, though, we have some more questions for you. We know that Mr Rogozin had two visitors here last night, and we’ve eliminated both of them from our investigation. But did anyone else come here looking for him last night?’

  The receptionist nodded. ‘As a matter of fact there was,’ she replied. ‘A young gentleman . . . in his twenties, I mean . . . tall, dark haired, had a Latino look about him. He came in through the station entrance, as if he didn’t really know his way around.’

  Provan took out his phone and displayed an image on the screen. ‘Was this him, Kerry?’

  She peered at it, then nodded. ‘Yes, yes it was. That’s the fellow I spoke to.’

  ‘How did he seem?’ Mann asked.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Can you describe his manner, his attitude?’

  ‘He was perfectly polite. He asked me for Mr Rogozin’s room number. I said I couldn’t divulge that, and he asked if I could call him. I said there would be no point, as he’d just gone out with another gentleman. I asked if he’d like to leave a message for him, but he said “Thank you, no”, then he left.

  ‘How did he seem?’ she said, repeating the DI’s question. ‘Agitated, I would say; wound up, as if he’d an urgent reason for wanting to see Mr Rogozin.’ She frowned. ‘You don’t think he caught up with him, do you?’

  ‘That’s what we’re trying to find out, Kerry,’ the DS replied. ‘Thanks for your help; we’ll try to free up President Kennedy’s suite.’ He gave her a smile, that to Mann seemed almost impish. ‘I’ll bet it’s very popular with the ladies.’

  The detective stepped away from the reception desk. ‘Bugger,’ Provan muttered. ‘A new name in the frame then, and no’ the one I wanted.’ He glanced up at the inspector. ‘Where do we go now?’

  ‘You know perfectly well,’ she retorted. ‘We go to the only other place we know that Rogozin visited last night.’

  ‘Have you got the time for that?’ he queried. ‘What about Jakey?’

  ‘His Uncle Davie’s with him, and he’ll stay over if need be. We have that arrangement if there’s a panic on at work. It’s handy, having a gay self-employed home-working brother.’

  ‘In that case,’ Provan ventured, ‘do ye fancy a drink while we’re here? The Garrick Casino’s no’ going tae close any time soon, and I’m told the Tempus Bar’s quite nice.’

  Fifty-Eight

  ‘Why did you do that, Pops?’ Alex Skinner demanded, clearly annoyed. ‘It wasn’t professional.’

  ‘I’m not a professional,’ her father pointed out. ‘I’m not a lawyer. I’m an amateur helping out.’ He beamed. ‘Well-meaning amateurs are much in demand these days. Sammy Pye asked me to do him a wee favour earlier on today. Maggie has him overseeing the Rogozin murder investigation.’

  ‘Sammy got you involved in that?’

  ‘He asked me to talk to someone I know; to eliminate him.’

  ‘Why couldn’t he do it himself?’

  ‘It was a bit too close to home for him, and he thought the Glasgow approach might be too abrasive.’

  ‘Rogozin was murdered, was he? The police statement struck me as cautious; “suspicious death” was all they said.’

  ‘It’s very difficult to cave the back of your own head in, then fly off the walkway into the Clyde. Maggie called me, out of courtesy, twenty minutes ago. The post-mortem showed no water in his lungs.’

  ‘I don’t envy them trying to find who did it. There must have been a long queue of people with reason to kill that man.’

  ‘Agreed. All I was able to do for Sammy was determine that two people couldn’t have done it: Cameron McCullough and your client.’

  ‘They suspected Chaz?’ Alex exclaimed. ‘Why should they? He had nothing to do with Rogozin outside the club.’

  ‘No, but his half-sister did.’ He related the story of Provan’s photographic discovery in the dead Russian’s hotel suite.

  ‘Annette Bordeaux was shagging Rogozin?’

  ‘The other way around; she wasn’t a willing participant. The allegation is that it began with a date rape and continued through coercion.’

  She shook her head, sending a ripple through her thick hair. ‘You really are involved in this investigation, aren’t you? On all sides. You can’t stay away, can you? How much longer before they draw you back in?’

  ‘To the Scottish police service? Never; my view of it’s too well known. The role that Maggie floated before me on behalf of the First Minister? I haven’t said an absolute no yet, but I’m not close to saying yes either.’

  ‘If you turn it down he could make you Solicitor General instead,’ she suggested with a playful grin.

  ‘There’s a big impediment to that,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m not a lawyer.’

  ‘I don’t think you have to be, Pops. It’s a government post, Clive Graham could appoint anyone he liked; you wouldn’t be able to appear in the Supreme Courts, but very few Sol Gens ever choose to do that. Rocco de Matteo’s an exception.’

  ‘Rocco de Matteo’s a wanker.’

  ‘That too,’ she agreed. ‘You still shouldn’t have gone to see him, though.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I made it clear that you didn’t know about it. I did it because I wanted to assess the chances of him dropping the charges against our man, sorry, your man.’

  ‘He won’t, I could have told you that. Paula Benedict called me again this morning to offer me that ridiculous plea deal, but she let slip that it was the Lord Advocate’s idea, not Rocco’s.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. Woodrow Butcher’s a cautious man. I know that from the golf I play with him.’

  ‘Everybody in Parliament House knows that,’ Alex retorted. ‘But he won’t overrule his deputy. Why should he? It’s win-win for him. Either de Matteo gets a conviction that makes the Crown Office look good, or he blows it and has to resign.’

  ‘That makes sense. It also gives us an even bigger incentive to clear Chaz Baker, if we can get rid of Rocco in the process. But,’ Skinner continued, ’he was right about one thing. He’s sitting with what looks like an unbeatable circumstantial case. There’s only one way we can knock it down for sure, and it isn’t by demonstrating simple reasonable doubt. We have to show the jury very clearly how she could have been killed by someone other than Baker.’