CHAPTER THREE
Help from friends
When Logan got back to the London Road Police Station, Grant was waiting for her with some interesting news.
'Donald Johnstone is a man with a lot of problems and not much money,' Grant began.
'Really?' said Logan. 'Tell me more.'
'Well, four years ago he borrowed some money from the bank. He started a business buying and selling used cars.'
'I thought used-car salesmen always made money,' said Logan, smiling.
'Not at the moment,' said Grant. 'The price of new cars has come down over the last two years. And because of that the price of used cars has come down too. So business has been difficult for Mr Johnstone. And... he keeps his cars at a place in the West End, not far from Princes Street.'
'That's an expensive place to have a business,' Logan said.
'Very expensive,' agreed Grant.
Most garages and car salesmen are outside the city, not right in the centre.
'So how bad is the problem?' asked Logan.
'Very bad,' said Grant. 'He's borrowed 200,000 pounds from the bank over the past four years and now they want the money back.'
'Can he pay it back?'
'No,' answered Grant. 'But he's got a nice house quite near his sister. If he can't find the money by the end of the year, the bank is going to take his house.'
'His wife won't be very happy,' said Logan.
'No,' Grant agreed.
'Is he hoping his sister will help him?'
'Well, she'll have a lot of money now, won't she?' said Grant.
'Yes,' said Logan. 'She will.'
Logan looked at Grant. He had thick black hair and a large black moustache. He was wearing an old blue jacket and old grey trousers. He did not really look like a policeman, but he was very good at getting information.
'Well done, Grant!' She smiled at him. 'And where did you find out all that?'
'Oh, you know, here and there,' said Grant. 'Of course it helps that my cousin and Johnstone's wife are good friends.'
Logan laughed.
At that moment the phone rang. Grant answered it. For most of the conversation he just listened. Then he thanked the person and put the phone down. He turned to Logan.
'That was Dr Forbes. The scientists have finished. Maclennan died some time between eleven thirty and twelve thirty of a broken neck - they can't say if it was murder.'
'We knew that,' said Logan. 'Anything else?'
'They found a very small piece of black material on the window lock, and another very small piece on the wall outside the bathroom. They think the material probably came from someone's clothes.'
They looked at each other.
'It is murder, isn't it?' said Grant.
'Well, I don't think someone climbed into the bathroom to have a shower, do you?' said Logan.