دیدار با جیمی براون

CHAPTER TWO

A visit to Jimmy Brown

‘We were lucky to catch Campbell for Craig Sinclair’s murder,’ said Grant, as he and Logan walked down the hill towards her car.

‘Did you work on the murder?’ asked Logan.

‘Yes, but before you ask, I didn’t speak to Morag Mackenzie then and I don’t know if that’s her up there,’ said Grant, pointing back up the hillside with his thumb. ‘At first we didn’t have any idea at all who’d killed Sinclair. Then someone rang the London Road police station, didn’t leave a name, but said we should search Campbell’s flat.’

‘And what was there?’ asked Logan.

‘There was a gun in a metal box in his kitchen. It was the gun which had killed Sinclair. Campbell’s fingerprints were all over the box.’

‘What about the gun?’

‘None. No fingerprints on the gun,’ said Grant. ‘He’d probably cleaned it. Anyway, they were still questioning him when Morag Mackenzie came into the police station. I wasn’t there at the time. She said she’d seen Campbell and Sinclair drinking together and shouting at each other on the night that Sinclair died. The two of them had been in that pub at the end of Rose Street, the Abbotsford Arms.’

‘What did Campbell have to say?’ asked Logan.

‘Well, he said the box was his but he’d never seen the gun. He also said he’d never been in the Abbotsford Arms in his life. He said he didn’t know Sinclair very well at all so why would he kill him?’

‘But you were sure you had the right person,’ said Logan.

‘Oh yes,’ said Grant. ‘Campbell had been in trouble quite a few times. He’d been to prison twice: once for stealing cars and once for fighting in a pub. He broke someone’s arm.’

‘That doesn’t make him a murderer,’ said Logan.

‘True,’ said Grant, ‘but you wouldn’t be surprised if he was.’

‘What about Sinclair?’ asked Logan.

‘A small-time criminal, too. He’d never been to prison but that was just good luck. He got into fights; he sold stolen CDs, things like that.’

‘Nice people,’ said Logan.

At six o’clock, back at the London Road police station, Logan sent Grant to find out the latest news about Ronnie Campbell and the dark blue Audi. At last she had time to change out of her beach clothes into a dark blue trouser suit that she always kept in her office. She felt more comfortable at work if she wore smart clothes. She studied her face in the mirror. She had short brown hair and dark brown eyes, but she always thought her nose was rather too long. A journalist friend of hers, Tam MacDonald, said she was too pretty to be a police officer. She had been angry with him when he said this. She was intelligent and good at her job, and it was an important job. However, it was sometimes difficult being a woman police officer. Because she was good-looking, people did not always take her seriously. She worked hard to show those people they were wrong.

Logan got herself a cup of coffee. Then she opened Ronnie Campbell’s record and looked at his photo. There was nothing interesting or unusual about him. He was thirty-five years old, 180 cm tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. The hair was short and straight, the eyes small and close together. He was described as slim and quite strong. As Logan looked at the photo, she began to ask herself questions. Why had Campbell escaped? Was that Morag Mackenzie’s body in Holyrood Park? Had Morag seen Campbell in the Abbotsford Arms seven years ago? Had Campbell killed her? In fact, had he really killed Craig Sinclair? And where was he now? He wouldn’t need new clothes because prisoners in Scotland wore their own clothes. But he would need money - where would he get it?

At that moment Grant returned.

‘No news on Campbell or the Audi, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘But I’m sure that was Morag Mackenzie’s body on the hillside.’

‘Why?’ asked Logan.

‘Some of the officers downstairs knew her and described her to me. She lived with a man called Jimmy Brown and he’s no good at all. He’s part of all sorts of criminal activities: robbery, stealing cars, everything.’

‘We’ll need him to look at the body so that we’re sure it’s her,’ said Logan. And even though it seems Ronnie Campbell killed her, we’ll also need to ask Mr Brown some questions. We need to know where he was this afternoon. As we know, women are most often murdered by their husband or boyfriend. Have you got an address for him?’

‘Yes,’ replied Grant. ‘Springwell Place. Off Dairy Rd.’

‘OK,’ said Logan. ‘Let’s go.’

The flat which Jimmy Brown shared with Morag Mackenzie was on the second floor of an old building near Dairy Road. Grant parked the car in the street outside and followed Logan up the stairs. Their knock was answered by a young fair-haired man who badly needed a bath and a change of clothes. He was wearing a dirty red T-shirt, jeans which a long time ago had been white, and no shoes or socks. He was tall and looked down at Logan with an ugly smile on his face. He turned and looked at Grant and then back to Logan.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s the pigs.’