At the entrance to the cemetery gates, Ellie went off in a cab and Annie was just getting into the Jag when DCI Hunter pulled up.
‘Mrs Carter,’ he said.
‘Something up?’ she said.
‘Nothing at all. Don’t worry – we’re going to find Peter Jones, I promise you that.’
‘And bang him up for – what? – ten years, twelve? What does he plead – insanity, the balance of his mind disturbed by family tragedy? Then he’s out, and what about Dolly? She gets a longer sentence than that. And so do we. All the people who loved her.’
‘It’s justice, Mrs Carter,’ he said.
It stinks, thought Annie. It’s not good enough.
She had all the boys out looking for the little shit, and their contacts were on the alert now. Added to that, she’d had a word with Alberto, and the Mafia street people were watching out for him, too. He wouldn’t get away with it. She was going to make certain of it.
‘Can I ask you a question, Mrs Carter?’ said Hunter.
‘Shoot.’
‘Who exactly is David Sangster?’
‘What?’ Annie was poleaxed.
‘David Sangster. The David Sangster who is on the board of the company that owns the house on the outskirts of Edinburgh, the one you stay in sometimes. And the castle you visit in the Highlands, he owns that too, I’m told. I’ve checked out all the other directors, and they’re kosher, but Sangster? He’s a bit more interesting. Lots of paper trails, all leading nowhere. So I repeat, Mrs Carter – who is he?’
Annie was silent for a long, long time. Then she smiled, sadly.
‘He was a friend of mine,’ she said.
‘Was?’
‘Yeah, he was.’ Annie took a breath and turned away and walked over to the Jag. She paused there as Tony opened the door for her, and she looked back at Hunter. ‘But he’s dead now,’ she said, and got in.
And he’s going to stay dead, she thought, as Tony got behind the wheel and started the engine.