Campbell pulled up outside the run-down tenement in the dark side-street in Musselburgh. He got out of his car and walked up to number eight. There was a minimal strip of path between the pavement and the building, enough space for a couple of bins and a scrawny bush. He stood by the large, heavy communal door and looked at the buzzers. He pressed number four and listened at the intercom.
‘Who is it?’ A woman’s voice.
‘Police.’
‘The door’s no locked, come on up.’
He noticed then that the front door was slightly ajar. He pushed it open, walked inside and looked around. The hall lights came on, bathing everything in harsh white neon. Grey stone floor, grey stone stairs zigzagging upwards. Someone’s pram at the bottom of the stairs, the two doors of the ground-floor flats. He walked upwards, the sound of his footsteps, greatly magnified, echoing up the stairwell. That smell that tenement staircases have, a mix of concrete, stone, floor cleaner – institutional, like a school or a prison.
He reached the first floor; a door was open and a tall woman with grey hair holding a cigarette stood there.
‘And what do you want?’ Her voice was unfriendly.
Campbell walked up to her, showed his warrant card and he pointed across the hall at the other flat’s door. ‘Do you know if he’s in?’
‘So that’s what this is about.’ She didn’t seem at all surprised. ‘No, he’s not in, but I saw a woman on the stairs a while ago going inside.’
Campbell frowned. ‘How do you know that?’ Had she been peering out of the peephole all the while?
‘He’s supposed to clean up any mess that’s not normal wear and tear – well, last Thursday there was some kind of stooshie outside his door, and afterwards there was a pool of blood on the floor… What folk get up to is their own business but I’ve got a bairn. I don’t want her seeing that kind of thing.’
Blood on the floor after an argument. Millar’s men and McDonald.
‘What time was this?’
‘Och, early, seven a.m. Anyways, an hour ago, I saw this girl go in. I heard the key so I went out. “Hey you,” I said. She just ran in and slammed the door.’
‘So she’s still in there?’
‘To the best of my knowledge. Timid wee thing.’
Calla, he thought, has to be.
‘Well, thank you…’ he took out a notebook ‘… and your name, please?’
‘McGillivray, Carole-Anne, both with an ‘e’.’
‘Thank you for your help.’
She closed the door behind her. Campbell walked across the hall and knocked on the door. No answer.
He knocked again. ‘Calla, let me in… it’s DI Campbell,’ he said.
There was a pause and then he heard the sound of a key being turned and a bolt being pulled back. The door opened and a frightened face peered up at him.
‘Let me in, Calla. We’ve got things we need to talk about.’
‘OK.’ She sounded as terrified as she looked.
She led him into a small sitting room. Shabby furniture. They sat opposite each other. Calla was wearing jeans and a sweater. She sat on the sofa and drew her knees up in front of her and wrapped her arms around them.
‘You remember me, Calla? I spoke to you after your husband…’
‘Aye,’ she said, ‘I remember you well. How can I help you?’
She looked even smaller than he remembered her. Her short dark hair needed washing and was sticking up in places. Her face had a broad mouth that he could imagine was normally in a good-natured smile, but there were bags under her eyes and she wasn’t smiling now.
‘Your brother?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know anything about Jamie, where he is, what he’s up to… Please, DI Campbell, leave me alone.’
‘I know you’re afraid of Millar.’
At his name she started violently and her eyes widened.
‘No…’ she said. He guessed she meant she didn’t want to hear his name, certainly not discuss him. You don’t name the bogeyman. He might come.
‘I know Millar killed Drew,’ Campbell said. He watched her reaction. Calla’s eyes moistened and she shook her head.
He continued, ‘Millar’s after your brother, that much I know, Calla. We both know that if he finds him, he’ll kill him. Now I want to know why.’ He held up a hand to forestall her saying anything. ‘I want to find Jamie, Calla.’
‘I don’t know where he is, DI Campbell, I swear to God…’
Her hands were clutching each other and the fingers of her right hand were playing with her wedding ring, twisting it this way and that.
‘Jamie’s out on licence, Calla. If he breaks the terms of his parole, then he goes back inside, you know that.’
She nodded.
‘He’ll be back, for another what? Four years or so…’ he said.
She was beginning to look alarmed; she could see which way the conversation was headed.
‘If Jamie goes back inside, then Millar has got the kind of clout to reach him, I’m sure you know that.’
She nodded again; remorselessly Campbell continued, ‘Jamie isn’t residing where he told the parole board. He’s in breach of his terms.’
‘Please, DI Campbell, don’t do this…’
‘I’m here unofficially – anything you tell me will be off the record. I want to know why Millar wants Jamie dead.’
‘Oh, Christ,’ Calla said, ‘I can’t say…’
‘One word from me and Jamie goes back to prison.’ Campbell twisted the knife ruthlessly. He could see the pain and indecision on Calla’s face. He felt sick at what he was doing but he had very little choice.
‘OK,’ said Calla. She took a deep breath. ‘A man called Jordan McKenna, he’s from Edinburgh and works—’ she paused and corrected herself ‘—worked, for Millar. Anyway, Millar wanted him to kill someone and Jordan hired Jamie to help him. I don’t know who or why, but something happened and he killed Jordan.’
Campbell took a deep breath. ‘You’re telling me that your brother killed Jordan McKenna.’
She suddenly realised what she’d said. ‘No… aye, but in self-defence.’ Calla started crying. ‘Oh, God, what have I done…?’
Oh my God, thought Campbell. Various options flickered through his consciousness, but first and foremost was the unswerving desire to get Millar.
‘He said he’d throw Palmer out of the window…’ Calla whispered, half talking to Campbell, half talking to herself.
Campbell nodded. ‘I kind of guessed, Calla…’ he looked around, ‘where is she by the way?’
‘At my auntie Pam’s in Greenock,’ she replied.
Campbell looked her in the eye. ‘Look, I’ll be frank – to be honest, I am far more interested in Millar than your brother. If I can get him to testify against Millar then I’m sure we can do something about this alleged incident with McKenna.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered.
‘For now, I’ll keep what you said to myself. But I need to meet your brother.’
‘I don’t know where he is, that’s the God’s honest truth.’
He nodded. ‘I know, Calla, I know.’ He took his wallet out and handed her a card. ‘This is my personal mobile number. Give it to Jamie. He’s got Millar on his back – you’re obviously not the only one that knows Jamie did McKenna. Edinburgh CID are looking for him. He’ll need someone on his side.’
‘Thank you.’
He stood up. ‘Well, the sooner he gets the message, the better. He’s in deep, deep trouble. Take care, Calla.’
She nodded and he left her there, staring into space.