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‘What were you doing there?’
‘Waiting for you to fall in.’
A flicker of amusement crept across the harsh expression. ‘And you’d have hauled me out, would you?’ he said sceptically.
‘Well, it was before I’d met you,’ Shona replied casually.
Kirkwood’s lined face cracked into a grin. ‘Ballsy wee thing, aren’t you?’ He turned to Murdo. ‘Bet she keeps you on your toes.’ Crossing to a sofa, he motioned them to sit down. ‘I’ll say nothing about my clients, so don’t ask.’ He took a cigarette from a packet on the low table in front of him and put it in his mouth, checking his pockets for a light, all the while fixing them with an uncompromising look.
Shona sat down next to him. ‘The fella from the bridge. We think we’ve found his body.’
Kirkwood stared at her. ‘Aw, fuck. Sami?’ He threw the unlit cigarette back on the table and rubbed both hands across his shorn scalp. ‘How do you know it’s him?’
‘The clothes, the bandaged hands. Did you not see the news? The body recovered from the motorway.’
‘Didn’t make the connection. So, was it suicide?’
‘We’re keeping an open mind,’ Shona replied.
Kirkwood gave her a questioning look which she ignored.
‘Was he a client?’ she continued, nodding to Murdo, who opened his notebook and sat down opposite them. ‘We’d like your help identifying him, so we can get in touch with his family.’
‘You’ll have a job. They’re back in Syria, if they’re still alive.’ Kirkwood picked up the cigarette packet, offering it round. Shona and Murdo declined. He took one himself and lit it, shaking his head sadly.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Shona. ‘This must be tough news to hear.’ Kirkwood seemed genuinely upset. He’d saved the man’s life, risking his own in the process, only to lose him again. Shona wondered how long you could work in a place like this before you became numb to the near daily doses of pain. ‘How did you first meet Sami?’
Tony Kirkwood drew in a lungful of smoke and watched her with narrowed eyes, considering how far she could be trusted. She returned his stare with a steady gaze. Eventually he exhaled. ‘His name’s Sami Raseem. Found him on the street a couple of weeks back. Terrified. Injured here.’ Kirkwood gestured to the backs of his own hands. ‘Wouldn’t go to hospital. It was an accident, he said, but it looked like someone had banjo’ed him. Black eye, the works. Patched him up. Fed him. Tried to get him to stay here, but he wouldn’t. Said they’d come for him.’
‘Who would come for him?’ Shona asked.
‘Too scared to tell me. My guess is the trafficking gang he was paying off. Said he couldn’t do what they wanted any more. I don’t know if that was because of his hands, he couldn’t work, or…’ Kirkwood shrugged, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a saucer on the table. ‘One of the other guys called me when he saw him climb over Sark Bridge. Sami thought that was his only way out. The gang probably said they’d hand him over to the authorities if he didn’t do what he was told, so he was just as frightened of the police as he was of the traffickers.’ He smiled ironically at Shona. ‘The gang had also threatened his family. I lost sight of him while the medics were checking him. They said the minute they turned their backs he legged it. Me and a couple of the guys had a look for him, but no luck.’
Shona sat forward. ‘Do you know who this gang is?’
‘If I knew who they were I’d be getting a few kicks in maeself.’
‘I’d rather you left them to me.’
‘Aye, mibbae,’ Tony said, doubtfully, his eyes hardening as he expelled a line of smoke. Shona didn’t doubt that he was capable of taking the law into his own hands.
So maybe Duncan Saltire had been right. Sami murdered by the gang who trafficked him. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Shona wondered, if you put Kirkland and Duncan Saltire in a room together, would they find common ground? Saltire’s political rhetoric feeding Kirkland’s sense of righteous indignation. Perhaps they’d tear each other apart. The idea that they wouldn’t was even more terrifying.
Kirkland shook his head. ‘Genuinely, I’d tell you if I knew. Traffickers. Modern slavers, they pick on people with learning difficulties, for fuck’s sake. They find them easier to control.’
‘Did Sami have learning difficulties?’ Shona said.
‘No, he was smart. English wisnae bad, spoke French and a bit of Greek too, all self-taught. I think I’d have persuaded him to turn the bastards in, given a wee bit of time. But he believed they could get to him anywhere. Looks like he was right.’
Shona thanked him. He promised to get in touch if he remembered anything else. ‘And I’ll give you a call, next time I fancy a swim.’ He winked at her.
She and Murdo went back out into the steady drizzle. ‘You were a hit with Tony-boy,’
said Murdo, turning up his coat collar. ‘Thought he’d show us the door.’
‘It’s my natural charm.’
‘Nearly always fatal, so I’ve heard.’
