‘Believe him?’ Chris said as they watched Eamon Ferry make his way down the corridor towards the exit.
‘Nope. I’d say he knows more than he’s letting on, especially about Doug’s connection to Lamond Lodge. But is he implicated in Russell’s murder? Nah. He’s not the type.’
‘I agree. Interesting that Russell was talking about selling his restaurants as far back as last summer.’
Clare nodded. ‘Yep. So it can’t have been anything to do with his illness.’
‘So, who next?’
‘Let’s leave Mr Gerrard to stew a bit longer. Steve Christie next.’
Steve Christie appeared agitated from the minute they entered the room. He watched Clare setting up the tape, drumming his fingers on the table. When she began the interview he burst in. ‘Listen, Inspector, I know how it looks. Me with previous for firearms. But I had nothing to do with this.’
Clare smiled. ‘Thanks for that. Noted. We just have a few questions. Shouldn’t take too long.’
A look of relief crossed his face. ‘Happy to help.’
‘Can you tell me how the party came to be at Lamond Lodge, please? Why that particular property?’
He seemed surprised by the question. ‘Oh,’ he said, his brow creased. ‘I think it was Eamon. He phoned to say was I interested in coming along for the week. Then he said he’d let me know where we were going and how much…’ he tailed off.
‘And did he?’
Steve nodded. ‘Yeah. About three weeks ago. Told me my share and I transferred the money to his account. Then he said he was taking his car and he could give Doug and me a lift.’ He looked from Clare to Chris. ‘That’s about it.’
Clare said, ‘You weren’t consulted? Given a choice of properties to look at?’
‘Nah. It’s coming up to my busy time. Lots of customers looking for their Christmas stock. I told Eamon I’d go anywhere there was plenty of beer.’ He laughed at that.
Clare took a moment to frame her next question. ‘Mr Christie, did you have any contact or correspondence with the owners of Lamond Lodge?’
Again, he looked surprised. ‘No. There’s a key box round the back of the house. With a code, ye know? I think Eamon knew it and he opened up.’ He wrinkled his brow for a moment then said, ‘Him or Doug. I was getting the bags out of the boot. I think…’ he went on, ‘I think there was a kind of folder on the kitchen table. Emergency numbers and that. But we didn’t need it. Nice house,’ he added. ‘I’d book it again.’
Clare said, ‘Would it surprise you to know the house is part-owned by Mr Gerrard?’
There was no doubting Steve Christie’s reaction. He sat forward, his eyes wide. ‘Eh? That fancy house – Doug owns it?’
‘Part-owns.’
Steve sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. He seemed to be turning this over in his mind. Then he said, ‘Sneaky bastard. He could have given us it for nothing.’ He laughed. ‘Always the businessman, that’s Doug.’
‘So you didn’t know?’
‘No I did not!’ Then he said, ‘Who’s the other owner?’
Clare smiled. ‘I’m sure Mr Gerrard will be happy to tell you. Meantime, we’re keen to contact Gaby Fox and her husband. Do you know where they are?’
He shook his head. ‘No idea, sorry.’
Clare watched him carefully. Was he hiding something? She decided to wait. See if he would say anything else.
The awkward silence worked. ‘I heard they hadn’t caught their train. But that’s all I know.’
‘How did you hear?’
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, ‘Can’t remember. Probably Eamon. He usually knows what’s going on.’
‘Where do you think they might be?’ Clare asked.
‘No idea. Maybe they wanted a break away, after what happened.’
Clare smiled. ‘Okay, Mr Christie. Just a few more questions.’
‘Sure. Fire away.’
‘How well did you know David Fox?’
His eyes narrowed but he didn’t reply.
‘Gaby and Russell’s brother,’ Chris added. ‘The one who died.’
‘Yeah, of course. I er… I know who you mean. Just surprised you’re asking.’
‘You remember David?’
He inclined his head. ‘Not really. He was that wee bit younger, you see? Obviously tragic what happened.’
‘Did you ever meet him? After you left school, I mean?’
‘No. We didn’t have the same friends. And he was always a bit…’
They waited.
‘Well, a bit odd, to be honest.’
‘In what way?’
‘He… didn’t seem to think he needed to get a job. All that travelling, bumming off his mum and dad. Didn’t sit right with me.’
Clare thought doing a bit of travelling was a lot better than dealing in guns but she stopped short of saying so.
‘There was a memorial, though,’ he said.
‘Did you go?’
‘Ah no, Inspector.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I was otherwise engaged, ye know. At Her Majesty’s pleasure.’
Clare nodded. She glanced at Chris. ‘I think that’s everything, Mr Christie. Unless…’
Chris shook his head.
‘Thanks for your time,’ Clare said. ‘Obviously if Gaby or Luke get in touch…’
‘Yeah, I’ll let you know.’ He rose from his chair. ‘I can go then, yeah?’
Clare smiled. ‘Yes. If you just let us finish up here we’ll escort you to the door.’
He laughed. ‘I reckon I can find my way, Inspector. Plenty practice.’
They watched him stride out of the station fishing car keys from his pocket.
‘You know,’ Clare said, as they walked back towards the interview rooms, ‘he’s the only one of the three who’s done time, but I think he’s probably the most honest.’
‘He’s still a convicted criminal,’ Chris said.
‘He is. But there’s something more straightforward about him. That Eamon Ferry is too smooth for my liking. I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could chuck him. And as for Doug Gerrard…’
‘You ready for him?’
‘Am I ever!’
Doug Gerrard was casually dressed in faded jeans and a zip-neck sports top. He raised an eyebrow when Clare and Chris entered the room but didn’t speak. Clare thanked him for attending, said they would keep him as short a time as possible and reminded him he could have legal representation at any time.
‘Am I likely to need it?’
Clare smiled. ‘I hope not, Mr Gerrard. This isn’t a formal interview and you are here voluntarily.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘It didn’t quite sound like that to me.’
She made no reply to this and started the tape. The formalities completed, she began by asking him how the party came to be staying at Lamond Lodge.
There was just the hint of a smile. ‘I’m guessing you already know that, Inspector.’
She decided not to waste time. ‘You are one of the owners of the property, yes?’
The smile became a smirk. ‘Aye. So?’
‘And the other owner?’
‘Again, I reckon you already know.’
‘Val Docherty.’
‘Aye.’
‘What led to you go into partnership with Val?’
He avoided her eye. ‘Can’t remember. It’s a while back now. I had some money kicking around. Thought I might put it into property. So I put the word out and someb’dy said there was a pretty nice house near St Andrews. So, I’m thinking golfers, students with rich parents an’ all that. Made a lot o’ sense. But it was pricey, like. So someb’dy put me in touch with Val and we bought it between us.’
‘Who was that?’
He shrugged. ‘Sorry, Inspector. Can’t remember.’
Clare could feel her temper rising but she bit it back. ‘How long have you owned Lamond Lodge?’
‘Dunno. Four, maybe five years.’
‘And have you stayed there before?’
‘Couple of times.’
‘Recently?’
He shook his head. ‘Nah. Last year. Can’t remember the date.’
‘And since last year?’
‘Nope.’
‘You didn’t pay a visit ahead of your party? To check things were in order, for example?’
‘Why would I? Got the agents for that.’
This was like pulling teeth. She tried again. ‘Mind if I ask why you charged your friends to stay in a house you own?’
‘Business, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Got bills to pay, council tax is a fortune, insurances… plus it’s not all mine. Like you said, I only part-own it.’ He shifted on his chair and flexed his fingers, making the knuckles crack. ‘And the agency get arsy if you make bookings they don’t get commission on.’
You had to hand it to him, Clare thought, he was well rehearsed. ‘Explain to me again,’ she went on, ‘how you came to arrange for the group of women to attend the party on Friday night.’
Doug Gerrard exhaled audibly and folded his arms. ‘Like I said, I met a lad in a pub.’
‘Which pub?’
‘Can’t remember. Anyway, met a lad, got chatting. Told him it was my mate’s fortieth and he said if I needed some girls to make the party go with a swing, he knew who to call.’
‘And who was that?’ Clare asked.
‘Can’t remember. So, he makes a call, then he gives me a number. I call. Spoke to someone…’
‘Man or woman?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It might.’
He shrugged. ‘Dunno. Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Could have been a woman with a deep voice, or a man with a high one. Anyway, I told them the date, said how many there were of us and whoever it was said to leave it to them.’
Chris leaned forward. ‘Did money change hands?’
‘Oh sergeant,’ Doug said, grinning. ‘You’ll have to try harder than that.’ He looked back at Clare and nodded at Chris. ‘No, money did not change hands. That would be illegal, wouldn’t it?’
Clare decided to change the subject. ‘Are you aware Gaby Fox and her husband didn’t catch their train to London?’
This seemed to amuse him. ‘Nothing to do with me.’
‘So you don’t know where they are?’
‘Er, no! I don’t.’
‘You’ve not spoken to them since leaving Lamond Lodge?’
‘Nope.’
Clare glanced at Chris, and he took his cue.
‘What do you know about the younger brother David?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You don’t remember him?’
‘Not really. He wasn’t around much. Always heading off somewhere in the world. Russell talked about him sometimes – where he was and so on. I wasn’t that interested, to be honest.’
For the first time since the investigation began Clare found herself wondering what sort of man Russell Fox was, and why he’d been friends with someone like Doug Gerrard. A thought struck her and she said, ‘Did you know Russell planned to sell his restaurants?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. Matter of fact, I said I might be interested.’
Clare said, ‘You were considering buying Russell Fox’s restaurants?’
‘Yeah. All above board, obviously.’
‘Had you made an offer?’
He shook his head. ‘Nah. It was early days. But I probably would have. He ran them well. Good investment for somebody.’
Clare glanced at Chris. There was nothing to be learned here. Doug Gerrard was far too well prepared. She ended the interview. ‘If you do hear from either Gaby or Luke,’ she said, ‘I’d like you to contact me immediately.’ She withdrew a card from her pocket and held it out.
He looked at the card for a few seconds then said, ‘Don’t worry. I’ll find you.’