She’d hesitated for a long time before finally forcing herself to make the call. It rang for so long that she thought it would ring out to voicemail. But finally it was answered.
‘Helena?’ He sounded slightly flustered, as if she’d interrupted something.
‘Sorry, Bill. Is this a bad time?’
‘No, that’s fine. I’d left the phone in my office and popped downstairs, that was all. Heard it ringing from the kitchen.’
‘I was just wondering if you’d mind me coming round tonight?’
There was a slightly extended silence that made her think she’d taken him by surprise. Whether the surprise was a welcome one, she wasn’t entirely sure. ‘That would be brilliant, if you’re able to.’
‘I’ve some things to finish off, but I don’t think I’m going to be as late as I thought.’ She paused. ‘Assuming it’s convenient for me to come, of course. I don’t want to assume.’
‘It’ll be lovely to see you. I’ll start thinking about what to cook.’
‘Don’t go to any trouble. I’m sorry it’s all a bit short notice.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ he said. ‘You could have just turned up.’
He’s protesting too much, she thought. I’ve caught him on the hop. He didn’t want to say yes and he’s regretting it. Or am I projecting my own feelings onto him?
She did feel as if there’d already been a shift in her own feelings. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Bill or that she wanted to end their relationship. But she felt more wary, less immediately trusting. More inclined to ask questions, rather than taking what he said at face value.
Part of her was inclined to curse Alec McKay. After all these years, after everything she’d been through, just when she’d thought everything was coming right. But she knew McKay had done the right thing, and she’d have found it much harder to forgive him if he’d kept silent. But that didn’t lessen her unhappiness.
‘About 7.30, then?’
‘That would be great.’ He was silent for a second. ‘Are you planning to stay over?’
She hadn’t expected him to ask explicitly, and, stupidly, she’d had no answer prepared. Different impulses were wrestling in her head. Part of her wanted to stay, part knew that for the moment it was anything but wise. And another part was aware that, if she was concerned about Bill’s safety, it might be risky to leave him alone overnight.
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Don’t be daft.’
‘I’ll have to be off fairly early. I’ve a lot to do tomorrow, and I assume we’re still on for tomorrow evening?’
‘I’ll be preparing the Hogmanay steak pie specially, so we’d better be.’
Even in her current state of anxiety, she couldn’t deny he was good company. All she could do was pray there was nothing in what McKay had found, that the documents were indicative of nothing criminal. A lot of people invested offshore. She might disapprove of it, but it wasn’t necessarily illegal. If Bill had some money to invest, from whatever source, he might well simply trust it to advisers such as Simon Crawford. She knew from their past investigations that much of Crawford’s business was legitimate. Most likely, Bill’s involvement was firmly in that category.
‘See you later, then,’ she said.
‘I’ll look forward to it.’
She ended the call and sat for a further moment staring down at the meeting room table. It was too late now to make any changes, but she didn’t really know what she’d just done or what its implications might be.
‘Wally. Long time, no speak and all that.’
There was a moment’s silence at the other end of the line. ‘Bloody hell, is that Alec McKay?’
‘Aye, Wally. Still here. Still living and breathing, or so they assure me, anyway.’
‘Well, well. Can’t remember the last time we spoke. You’re after something, obviously.’
‘I’m hurt, Wally. I’m cut to the quick.’
‘Aye, right. So what is it you’re after?’
McKay had worked with Wally Kincraig on a number of cases over the years. He was one of a small team of highly specialised forensic accountants who went wherever they were sent by Police Scotland. Kincraig had retired a couple of years earlier and was enjoying a life of relative leisure in some small village in the East Neuk. But his skills were still much in demand, and he supplemented his pension with consultancy work for the force and other organisations. ‘There’s always a need for people who can literally follow the money,’ he’d told McKay.
Without going into any more of the background detail than was necessary, McKay explained what he needed. ‘At this stage, all I really want to know is whether the documents provide any prima facie evidence of criminality.’
‘Prima facie? Is that what they teach you in cop school these days? I learned all my Latin from going to mass.’
‘That’s where I’m going wrong,’ McKay acknowledged.
‘So you say these documents are bank statements? If that’s all there is, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help you. I can tell you about the various jurisdictions of the different banks. Obviously, some countries are more likely to be indicative of criminality than others, whether it’s tax-dodging or something even more serious. But that wouldn’t be definitive. At the end of the day, a bank statement doesn’t tell you much except that an account exists and that there’s money moving in and out of it. Of course, the bank itself might be dodgy, and there are plenty of those, but otherwise it’s difficult unless you’ve more information about the sources and destination of the transfers.’
McKay could tell that Kincraig was already clambering aboard a hobby-horse. That was fair enough. It was that kind of enthusiasm that would encourage him to help. ‘There were various other documents in each group,’ McKay added, ‘but they meant nothing to me. I’m hoping they might mean more to you.’
‘You’re not looking for anything formal? In evidential terms, I mean.’
‘Not at all. Like I say, just a view as to the likely illegality or otherwise of the activities behind the documentation. I don’t want to go around trying to drum up support and resources to launch an investigation, and then discover there’s nothing to investigate. I don’t even want to spend money on people like yourself without being sure we’re not wasting anyone’s time.’ McKay hoped that Kincraig could recognise a carrot being dangled.
‘No, well, that’s understandable. As long as you decide to spend some in due course.’ Kincraig had clearly taken the bait.
‘You’ll be the first person on our minds,’ McKay said.
‘I’ll be happy just to be on your tender list. Have you got these docs in electronic form?’
‘That’s another long story, I’ve got photos of a sample of them.’
‘This is something you’ve acquired in your usual idiosyncratic way then, Alec?’
‘That’s another reason I need to know if there’s anything significant in them before I take it any further.’
‘Message understood. And when do you want this for, taking for granted that I’m not going to be happy with whatever timescale you request?’
‘I was thinking of tomorrow morning?’
‘Ach, you’re a hard taskmaster, Alec McKay. I’ll see what I can do. I’m supposed to be entertaining the in-laws tonight. Mainly so I can avoid having to spend Hogmanay with them. But I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can in the morning.’
‘That’s much appreciated, Wally. I’ll buy you a pint next time you’re up in these parts.’
‘I’ll look forward to it. You can buy me supper too.’
‘Don’t push it, Wally. But, seriously, thanks. This could be an important one, for various reasons.’
‘I’m not making any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.’
McKay ended the call, and then emailed the images directly to Kincraig from his personal phone. He wasn’t even sure about the legitimacy of what he was doing. He’d photographed what were presumably confidential documents without permission, and he was now sending them to someone who, although entirely trustworthy, was no longer a member of the force. Maybe not the smartest of moves. But, then, no one had ever accused McKay of being smart. Not in that way, anyway. When people used the word about him, it tended to be suffixed with ‘-arse’.
Too late now, anyway. He knew that, whatever the procedures might say, morally he was doing the right thing. At least this way he was doing his best to protect Helena from suffering more than she needed to.
The only question was whether his best would be good enough.