Macbeth

‘Good evening, I’m Inspector Macbeth, head of the Organised Crime Unit. As you know, Chief Commissioner Duncan was found murdered at Inverness Casino this morning at 6.42. Immediately afterwards the two provisional suspects in the case, Duncan’s bodyguards Police Officer Andrianov and Police Officer Hennessy, were shot and killed by the police in the adjacent room when they resisted arrest. An hour ago you were given a detailed account of the course of events, our current findings and assumptions about the case, so this can be dealt with quickly. But I would like to add a couple of things of a more technical nature.’

Macbeth held his breath and one journalist was unable to restrain himself:

‘What do you know about Malcolm?’ the question resounded.

‘Is he dead?’ another journalist lobbed in.

Macbeth looked down at his notes. Put them to the side.

‘If these questions mean the press considers we’ve covered our responsibility to report on the murder of Chief Commissioner Duncan, we can now talk about the disappearance of the deputy chief commissioner.’

‘No, but first things first,’ shouted one of the older journalists. ‘We have deadlines looming.’

‘OK,’ Macbeth said. ‘Deputy Chief Commissioner Malcolm didn’t show up — as you appear to know — at our meeting in police HQ at six. On a day when the chief commissioner has been found dead that is of course disturbing. So we instigated a search, and Malcolm’s car was located this afternoon in the container harbour. Subsequently the area was searched, also by divers. And they found—’

‘The body?’

‘—this.’ Macbeth held up a round piece of metal that glinted in the glare of the TV lamps. ‘This is Malcolm’s police badge, and was found on the seabed by the quay.’

‘Do you think someone has killed him?’

‘Possibly,’ Macbeth said, without batting an eyelid, in the deafening silence that followed. ‘If by someone we include Malcolm himself.’ He ran his eye over the audience and continued: ‘A letter was found on the front seat of his car.’

Macbeth addressed the letter. Cleared his throat.

‘The Norse Riders threatened they would kill my daughter, Julia, if I didn’t help them to kill the chief commissioner. But now they have a hold on me and they’ve told me to perform other services for them, too. I know that for as long as I’m alive the threat to my daughter will always be there. That is why — and because of the shame I feel for what I’ve done — I’ve decided to drown myself. It is signed by the deputy chief commissioner.’

Macbeth looked up at the assembled journalists. ‘The first question we — and I presume you, too — are asking is of course whether the letter is genuine. Our Forensics Unit has confirmed that the letter was written on Malcolm’s typewriter at HQ. The paper bears Malcolm’s fingerprints and the signature is Malcolm’s.’

It was as though the room needed a few seconds to digest the information. Then came shrill voices.

‘Do you know if there’s anything else to confirm Malcolm was behind Duncan’s murder?’

‘How could Malcolm have helped the Norse Riders to murder Duncan?’

‘What’s the connection between Malcolm and the bodyguards?’

‘Do you think there are any other police officers involved?’

Macbeth held up his palms. ‘I won’t answer any questions about Duncan’s murder now, as it is all speculation. Only questions about Malcolm’s disappearance. One at a time, please.’

Silence. Then the only female journalist in the room said, ‘Are we to understand that you’ve found Malcolm’s police badge, but not Malcolm?’

‘We have a muddy seabed to contend with, and the water in our harbour is not the cleanest. A light brass badge doesn’t necessarily sink into the mud the way a body does, and brass reflects light. It will take the divers time to find Malcolm.’

Macbeth watched the journalists as they threw themselves over their pads and made notes.

‘Isn’t the most obvious reason for that the current carrying away the body?’ said a voice with rolled ‘r’s.

‘Yes,’ Macbeth replied, and he spotted the face behind the voice. One of the few who wasn’t taking notes. Walt Kite. He didn’t need to; the radio station microphone was placed in front of Macbeth.

‘If Malcolm killed Duncan and regretted it, why—’