Sara was at the front desk dealing with callers when Clare returned. Presumably the traffic accident hadn’t taken long to sort out. As she entered her office the phone began to ring. Colin Morris from the prison.
‘Colin,’ she said. ‘Good of you to call so quickly.’
‘Ah, no problem, Clare. How’s the investigation going?’
‘Early days. I’m kind of hoping you might have something.’
‘Well, yes and no,’ he said. ‘So, first of all, our records show Russell Fox had four different cellmates while he was inside. No particular problems with any of them. Seemed to get on okay.’
‘Do you know where they are now?’ Clare asked.
‘Aye. Two of them have since died. One’s back inside and the fourth went to an address in England when he was released.’
Clare snatched up a pen. ‘Name?’
‘John Joseph Alexander, known as Jonjo. And, from what I can see, he’s still in England. Birmingham, last I heard. But you might want to check that.’
Clare scribbled the name down. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yes. Bit of trouble a few weeks before Russell was released.’
‘Oh yeah?’ This sounded more hopeful.
‘One of Russell’s cellmates was set upon by another lad: Zac Buchanan. A real bad lot, Zac. He was doing a stretch for an aggravated assault. Don’t ask me why it wasn’t attempted murder. Anyway, Russell’s cellmate must have done something to upset Zac. Next thing Russell knows, Zac’s cornered the lad in his cell, giving him a right kicking. Russell tried to intervene but two big lads were barring the door. Zac half kills the lad then the three of them swan off, leaving him in a bloodied heap. Cellmate of course wouldn’t say anything but Russell named all three. Next thing they knew Zac and the others were transferred to another wing and Zac had a year added to his sentence. He swore he’d get Russell for it.’
‘But surely that was years ago now.’
‘It was. But Zac Buchanan was released, just four months ago. Word is he’s living near your neck of the woods now, down in Leven.’
Clare considered this. Leven was a busy seaside town, popular with holidaymakers thanks to its sandy beach. And it was just fifteen miles from St Andrews.
‘Thanks, Colin. That’s worth following up. Erm, the cellmate – the one who was beaten up?’
‘Sadly, one of the ones who died, Clare. Nothing to do with Zac, though. He was found in an alley one night, about a year ago. Needle still in his arm.’
Clare shook her head. ‘Drugs, eh?’
‘Aye. The misery they cause.’
‘Anything else, Colin?’
‘Nah. That’s it. He was no bother as a prisoner, Russell, apart from that one incident. Did his time and hasn’t been back. That’s how we like them.’
She thanked Colin and headed for the incident room. Bill was ending a call, scoring things off his notepad as Clare entered. ‘Drawing a blank on the three friends, boss,’ he said. ‘Janey’s still looking into Steve Christie but the other two seem fine. No problems in their personal lives, no debts, no indication of drug use or other criminality.’
Clare nodded. ‘Thanks, Bill. Could I ask you to look up another one please?’
Bill drew a line under the list on his pad. ‘Okay, shoot.’
‘Zac Buchanan.’
He looked up. ‘Think I jailed him a few years ago. Nasty piece of work.’
‘Any connection with firearms?’
He sat back, tapping his pen on the notepad. ‘I’m struggling to remember. But he’s the kind of guy who, if he can’t get hold of a gun himself, he’ll know someone who can. He in the frame for this?’
Clare sat down. ‘It’s possible. He was in Barlinnie the same time as Russell Fox. Russell’s cellmate was assaulted by Zac and Russell gave evidence against him. Zac was transferred and had a year added to his sentence.’
Bill nodded. ‘He wouldn’t like that. From what I remember he’s a hot-headed little shit.’
‘Could you prioritise him, please?’
‘I’ll get onto it now.’
Janey caught Clare’s eye. ‘Been looking into Steve Christie,’ she said.
‘And?’
‘Nothing anyone can pin on him.’
‘But you’re suspicious?’
Janey shrugged. ‘I can’t find any involvement with firearms since his conviction. HMRC have investigated him a few times but nothing they could make stick. The officer I spoke to said he was a slippery sucker.’
‘Remind me again what he does,’ Clare said.
‘Imports tat from China. Supplies market stalls, small shops. The kind of stuff you buy, then it falls to bits a couple of weeks later.’
‘Okay, thanks Janey. Ask HMRC to keep us informed. Otherwise, move on.’ Clare rose and was heading for the door when Chris ambled into the room.
‘We going somewhere?’
‘I am. You’re staying here to help Janey and Bill. Anything of interest get me on my mobile. I have a call to pay.’