‘Do you think he’s telling the truth?’ Dan hugged his notepad to his chest, his eyes full of excitement.
‘On Friday, Kate and I phoned around for trafficking intel in this area. There was none,’ Shona said, chewing the end of her pen. ‘Wazir said there’s children involved. I need to flag this up with Division and the child protection agencies right away.’
‘Perhaps there were no traffickers, and Wazir killed Sami and Isla to take the money for himself?’
‘It’s a possibility, but where’s the money? He seems genuinely afraid of someone, more afraid than he is of us. He was almost relieved to get the story off his chest and get into that cell. If what he said is true, this is a gang that haven’t been picked up by any agency yet. They must have a slick operation.’
‘What are we going to do?’
‘You’re going back to Carlisle. Find Jamie Buckland. Wazir’s identified him as Isla’s pimp. I want that little bastard picked up and any of his associates. Ravi and Kate can get the baby milk case progressed. That will give us time.’
‘Time for what?’
‘Time to work on who killed Isla and Sami, and why.’
Chapter 20
Dan pulled up behind a squad car parked outside the flat-fronted, red brick terrace on Carlisle’s Currock estate. As he got out, the two officers came to join him on the kerb.
‘No sign of life,’ said the larger of the two, hoisting up his utility belt and adjusting his stab vest. ‘Should have tagged the bugger, least we’d know if he was in there,’ he grumbled. ‘Job for the Jocks this, aint it? Waste of bloody time.’
‘Look,’ said Dan patiently. ‘Just go round the back. Check he doesn’t scarper.’
The officer scowled at him but did as he was told, slouching down the street and disappearing into an alleyway.
Dan hammered on the door. The second officer peered through the dirty net curtain of the downstairs window but shook his head. Somewhere inside, a dog barked. Dan flipped open the letterbox. The hallway was filled with a stale, empty silence. ‘Mr Buckland, it’s the police. Open the door.’ He checked with the cop at the rear of the property. Nothing.
Pulling out his mobile, he called the station. ‘Has Jamie Buckland been in yet? He’s on bail from the Dumfries Sheriff, reporting daily.’ Dan listened to the tapping of a keyboard at the end of the line and the desk officer’s reply. ‘But that was three days ago. Is that the last time he was in? Why wasn’t a no-show warrant issued? What do you mean, it’s in progress?’ Dan ended the call, shaking his head. ‘Fuck.’ He stared up the street.
The uniform officer had stood listening to the exchange. He rocked back on his heels, his thumbs hooked into armholes of his vest. ‘That dog, sir.’
‘What about it?’
‘Your fella’s a no-show? Might be lying dead in there. Can’t leave the dog.’ The officer gave Dan a knowing smile.
‘Right, officer,’ said Dan catching his meaning. He stepped back from the door. ‘What are you waiting for? Kick the bugger in. But just remember,’ he warned, ‘you’re catching the beast.’
They found the white Staffie pup in the kitchen, shut up in a soiled and stinking cupboard. It was delirious with joy to see them and ran trembling to the officer, who set down a saucepan of water which it lapped noisily. They searched the property but there was no sign of Buckland.
Dan called Shona. ‘Bad news, boss. Buckie’s legged it. Left his dog shut up. We can do the bastard for animal cruelty as well when we catch him.’ The officer was rubbing the dog down with a wet towel, washing off the worst of the filth. It sat patiently, watching him with grateful eyes. The other constable came back into the kitchen with a metal tin. With his blue-gloved hand he pulled out a wad of cash and showed it to Dan. He dropped it back in the tin and held up four fingers.
‘Shit,’ Shona said. ‘How long’s Buckland been gone?’
‘Last seen at the nick three days ago,’ Dan sighed. ‘Someone should have been round but they’re still getting their arse in gear. Sorry,’ he apologised, embarrassed by his force’s lack of urgency. ‘But listen, for someone who doesn’t claim benefits and does casual bar work, there’s a lot of nice stuff here.’ He glanced around at the wide-screen TV, the expensive music system and high-end leather furniture. ‘And we’ve just found about four grand in cash in a biscuit tin.’
‘So, we’re maybe talking alternative source of income, which fits with what Wazir said about him pimping girls,’ Shona said. ‘Okay, get an arrest warrant out. Put a trace on his phone. I’ll make sure he’s on our watch list too.’
‘What if he knows we picked up Wazir?’ Dan said. ‘The money could be the proceeds from the baby milk thefts. Maybe he killed Isla and Sami and has taken off?’
‘And left his cash behind? Wazir’s got no love for the boy Jamie. He’d have handed him to us on a plate if he thought he’d killed Sami. But you’re right, we can’t rule it out,’ Shona said. ‘Do a house to house, ask the neighbours. I know you struck out last time, but we might get lucky. Listen, Vinny Visuals has just walked into the office, I’ve got to go. Stick with it. Update me later.’ She ended the call.
* * *
‘Vin, how’s it going, pal? Dazzled by the city lights?’ Murdo said, shaking his hand as the rest of the team said their hellos. ‘Pleased to be back slumming it with us yokels?’ he continued. ‘Bet the beer prices in Glasgow were an eye-opener.’ Vincent pulled at the sleeves of his plaid shirt, swept back his long, dark fridge and smiled shyly at his colleagues.
‘Vincent, welcome back. Got a minute?’ Shona indicated her office.
When he was seated, she said, ‘We’ve been a bit stretched without you.’