Quintin Jardine - Skinner Skinner 07

by Skinner's Ghosts (pdf)

  She looked at Skinner again. 'Now,' she said, 'I'l ask for your professional view. Would you be completely happy to be proceeding in a case with such an omission?'

  The DCC considered her question, and as he did, he began to feel optimistic, for the first time in forty-eight hours. 'No,' he answered at last. 'I don't think that I would.' He grinned. 'I certainly wouldn't fancy having you cross-examine me in those circumstances.'

  The old lady nodded her gracious thanks for his compliment. 'Very well then, gentlemen. Our best hope is that the donor of this hundred thousand pounds remains unidentified. Who knows, Mr Skinner?

  Legally, you may even be able to keep it.'

  Mitch Laidlaw smiled at the idea. 'What can we expect next. Miss Dawson?'he asked.

  'A charge, I should think. The Secretary of State has really set up poor Archie Nelson with his damn investigation. Politics and justice aren't supposed to mix, but in these circumstances, I doubt if the new Lord Advocate can afford not to let this one go to trial.

  'So you'd better brace yourself, young man . . .' She addressed Alex for the first time. '. . . and you, young lady. It will probably get worse, before it starts to get better.'

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  'Sir James,' said Cheshire, sitting not in the comfortable suite where callers were usually received, but in a straight-backed chair set in front of the Chief's big desk, 'you real y shouldn't be doing this, you know.

  'My remit here is to investigate and report to the Lord Advocate, no-one else.'

  Proud Jimmy nodded. 'So I've been told, and I've gone along with it for long enough.' He paused and tapped the heavy silver braid on the epaulettes of his uniform jacket. 'But the fact is, I won't have anyone operating as a police officer anywhere in this building, or even in this city, and imagining that I've no jurisdiction over what he does.

  'I'm the Chief Constable here, you're out of your own area, and you will answer any question which I choose to put to you. I may have ordered Andy Martin not to see Bob Skinner informal y until this nonsense is over, but that's purely because I don't want to take the slightest chance of compromising his career. If you think I'm going to sit on my arse and just watch as my deputy, and one of my best friends to boot, is sent down the Swannee, then think again, sir.

  'I know al about the declared and physical evidence that you have.

  Now, I want to know what you've got on who might have set Bob up.'

  'Or bribed him,' said Cheshire, coldly.

  'Don't even think that in this office,' barked Proud, 'far less say it.

  Now, I want to know what you've done to check into people he's put away in his time. You can, and no doubt wil , tell Archie Nelson al about this, but I've seen off a right few Lord Advocates in my time, so that doesn't worry me. I've given you an order, now obey it.'

  Cheshire capitulated. 'Very good.

  'The fact is,' he began, 'the list isn't a very long one. There are very few of Skinner's customers with the means to do something like this, and they're all inside. We've been to see the chap Plenderieith.'

  'Mmm, Big Lenny. That was brave of you.'

  Cheshire nodded. 'I thought so too. He's bit of a monster, isn't he? However, he does seem to hold Skinner in high regard. I'd 221

  expected to find malice there, but when I put the suggestion to him that he might have set this thing up, he took real offence. In fact, he left Ronnie and me in no doubt about what he would do to anyone who was out to get Skinner.'

  'You don't surprise me,' said the Chief. 'He was in no doubt about it being a set-up, then?'

  'None at al , it seemed. He offered to help us in fact. I gather that Mr Plenderleith is a very important man in prisoner circles.'

  'Yes. He's very rich, as well as being very dangerous.'

  'I see,' said the Mancunian. 'We accepted his offer in any event, as long as he promised not to have anyone killed. He did. He's putting out feelers, to see if anyone knows anything about it.'

  Proud nodded. 'That's unconventional, but go on.'

  'Next, we looked at the chap who was arrested after the Witches Hil affair. He hadn't a clue what we were talking about. Apparently he lives in voluntary isolation. He refuses to do prison work, and he hasn't had a visitor, a letter, or received or made a phone call since the day of his sentence. So you can forget him.'

  Cheshire went on. 'Finally we looked at the Jackie Charles case.

  The chap who was arrested at its conclusion . ..'

  'Yes, him,' growled Proud.

  'You'll recall he hanged himself in his cell, before he could be brought to trial. But then there was Charles himself. We interviewed him.'

  'And...'

  'And, to be frank, Sir James, that is where my suspicions lie.

  Charles agreed to see us without even asking why but when we got down to the substance of the enquiry, the al egations, he clammed up. He became positively evasive, wouldn't answer direct questions, and finally, he asked for a lawyer.'

  Proud scowled across the desk. 'Jackie Charles has been evasive with police officers all his life. It's second nature to him. He knows also that there's no point in refusing to see us. He's always preferred to get it over with quickly.'

  'Nevertheless, sir,' countered the Englishman. 'I have to be suspicious. He behaved almost coyly. It was as if he didn't want to incriminate himself, but he wanted us to nail Skinner.'

  'Of course,' Proud bellowed. 'He hates Bob. It goes back almost twenty years. Bob arrested him in the end. Why the hell would he bribe him?'

  Cheshire paused. 'Well, Sir James, I know you took an interest in the case, so I'll have to be diplomatic here. But didn't it occur to you that after al the time that it took to nail Charles, it was odd that the charges Skinner pressed against him should be limited to tax evasion?

  Even in England, we were aware of the case. We expected many more 222

  serious charges, possibly murder or attempted murder.'

  It was Proud's turn to be hesitant. 'There were circumstances,' he said, 'which led Bob to conclude - with the agreement of the Procurator Fiscal, I must stress - that we should accept a plea to the counts we were sure of.'

  'Maybe there were, sir. But as dispassionate investigators, looking at the current set of circumstances, we have to look at the possibility that there may have been private considerations, of which you were not aware.'

  'Aye, I suppose so,' the Chief agreed, reluctantly. 'So what's your next move?'

  'It's being made right now, Sir James, by Ronnie Ericson. We've looked at that case in the most minute detail, and there's one thing we want to check.

  'For everyone's sake,' said Cheshire, heavily. 'I really do hope that it draws a blank.'

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  'Maybe I'll be like Christabel in about sixty years,' said Alex.

  'What,' cried her father, vehemently, 'a dried-up old dear with nothing in your life except the law? God forbid.

  'I hope that in sixty years time you will be secure in the enjoyment of your children and grandchildren, and stil gaining pleasure from the care you lavish on your venerable husband.'

  'And on my centenarian father, I hope.'

  He grinned across the garden table of the Fairyhouse Avenue bungalow, having used his unaccustomed leisure time to shop at the nearby Sainsbury's for a salad-and-sandwich lunch for two. 'No bloody chance of that,' he chuckled. 'I'll be in Dirleton Cemetery by that time.'

  'Beside Mum?' asked Alex quietly.

  Serious suddenly, he shook his head. 'No. I've bought another lair a bit along from her grave. I won't lie with Myra again, not even in death. You'll have that option, though.'

  'With whom will you lie, then? Pamela? Or will it be . . .'

  'Time wil tell,' he said shortly. 'It won't be my decision, I hope.

  Jesus, girl, but this is morbid; change the subject.' She tried to catch his eye, but for once he avoided her gaze.

  'Pops, are you beginning to ...'

  He cut her off. 'I me
an it. Let's talk about something else. So what did you make of our Learned Counsel?'

  'She's formidable still, isn't she just?' saidAlex. 'She seems to be as sharp as a tack, stil . Mr Laidlaw was certainly impressed by her.

  I liked her analysis too. Things aren't nearly as black when you look at it from her angle.'

  He smiled. 'Sure, but Christabel would be the first to remind you that optimism alone won't make the jury see it her way. Sure, there are holes in the Crown case, but it's still strong. The old dear made me admit that I wouldn't choose to take it to court myself, but if I was forced to it I stil reckon I'd have at least an even chance of a conviction.

  'Mind you, when you add in the Christabel factor the odds might tilt a bit.' His smile turned into soft laugh. 'I will never in my life forget the doing she gave that fiance of yours in the witness box.

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  After ten minutes of it, he more or less swore on the Bible that he didn't know his arse from his elbow.'

  'Well,' she said, loyally, 'he was only young at the time. What about you? How did you do against her?'

  'I think the referee's decision was a draw. She kept trying to get me to say that black might have been a bit grey, if not completely white, but I stuck to the script.'

  'How do you think she'll do with Cheshire?'

  'She might rattle his cage a bit, but he's a cool one, is Algernon.

  He'l survive. Anyway, most of what he'll have to say won't be subject to chal enge. The question wil be what weight the jury gives to old Chrissie's interpretation.'

  He frowned. 'No, I'm more worried about what she'l do to Jimmy.'

  'Will she call him?'

  'Absolutely for certain, she'l cal him, unless I forbid it. She'l want him as a character witness, but she'l attack him too.'

  'Why should she do that?'

  Bob smiled. 'Come on, girl, are you on the team or not? Work it out.'

  Alex bit into her last sandwich as she thought the question through.

  As she chewed she began to nod. 'Yes,' she offered at last. 'She'll have to rubbish the security of the police headquarters building. She'l have to convince the jury that someone could have walked in there and planted that receipt in your desk.'

  She looked at him sharply 'Could they?'

  'That's what happened, isn't it?'

  'In that case, you're right. To demonstrate that, she'll need the Chief Constable himself to admit it, under oath.'

  'Spot on.'

  'And wil he?' she asked.

  'I honestly don't know, my darling.'

  Alex slapped the table, wrinkling her forehead in a huge frown.

  'None of this should be happening,' she cried out. 'It's just not fair.'

  Her father reached across and ruffled her hair. 'Whoever said life was, my angel? Whoever said it was?You go into the house and check your birth certificate. I'm pretty certain that you'l find that it doesn't include any warranties or guarantees.'

  'No, I don't recal that it does,' she said, rising from the table, and glancing at her watch. 'Time I was off.'

  She helped him carry the plates and mugs into the kitchen. He was walking with her to the door, when the telephone rang. Closest to it, she picked it up.

  'Hello,' she said, as if to a familiar voice. 'Yes, he's here.' She handed over the phone, kissed him on the cheek, and disappeared through the front door, with a wave.

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  'Yes,' grunted Skinner, watching the door close with a surge of pleasure at the woman his daughter had become.

  'Hello, boss,' Neil Mcllhenney replied. 'How're you doing?'

  'Fine, Big Fel a, fine.' He paused. 'Well no, I'm not. I'm very, very deeply pissed off, if the truth be told. Is this a social call, seeing as how I'm a non-polisman at the moment?'

  'Of course it is, boss. I just wanted to make sure that you're hanging in there.' At the other end of the line, Skinner heard a soft rumbling chuckle. 'Mr Martin specifically didn't tell me to call you. He also told me not to let slip that the McGrath-Anderson team have just had a tip from a woman out in Howgate about a man taking a wee lass into a cottage out there this morning. She was struggling, so the woman said.'

  Skinner stood bolt upright. 'Did she know the man?'

  'No.'

  'Did she give a description?'

  'Tal , fair, slim. He took the kid out of the back of a grey Toyota van. With a tow-bar.'

  'Who owns the cottage? Anyone checked yet?'

  'Sammy just did. It belongs to a Mr George. He gets a Council Tax discount as a sole occupant. But the witness says it's not usually occupied. It's a holiday place, and she hasn't a clue whether the man she saw is the owner or not.'

  Skinner took a deep breath. 'When?'

  'We're just leaving now. Mr Martin, the boy Pye, Pam and me.

  We're using two unmarked cars. There's an armed team on the way up now to deploy out of sight.'

  'Pam?' said the DCC sharply 'Why Pam?'

  'Don't worry, boss,' the Sergeant reassured him, quickly. 'She'l be well back. Mr Martin wants a woman there to look after the kids if we recover them.'

  'Who's carrying?'

  'Mr Martin and me.'

  'Where's the cottage?'

  'You know where the old Inn was?'

  'Yes.'

  'At the end of a track, just beyond it.'

  'And where does the witness live?'

  'In a converted steading across the field. There are four houses there. The uniform team has orders to empty them.'

  'Very good, Neil,' said Skinner. 'Everything sounds fine. I'm glad the situation's in such good hands. Best of luck.'

  'Thanks boss,' said Mcl henney, sounding a touch bewildered.

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  'Fancy seeing you here,' Mcl henney grinned, as he stepped out of the passenger seat of Martin's car, opposite what had once been the Howgate Inn, a popular Midlothian watering place. 'Just for a minute there, I. ..'

  'I thought I'd go for a drive,' replied Skinner, casual y forestal ing him. 'Something going on here?'

  An attractive blonde woman, in her mid-forties, stood beside him.

  Three other people, two more women and an elderly man, residents of the steading, the Sergeant guessed, were gathered a few yards away, with a uniformed constable. 'This is Mrs Christopher,' said the DCC

  as Martin approached, followed by Pam and Sammy Pye, from a second car. 'Your witness.'

  'That's good,' nodded the Chief Superintendent. 'There are a few other questions I wanted to ask.'7

  Skinner smiled. 'Mrs Christy The grey van's been around h Here for a couple of days, th it last on Friday night, sho

  '"ye had a chat already. '1 or three weeks. hack. She saw e?'

  Andy Martin frowned

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  'somplice?' the solicitor suggested. ,is1iead, firmly, pursing his lips. 'The only three She pointed to Skinner. 'This gentleman's already asked me that.

  The answer's stil no, though. I haven't.'

  'Thanks anyway,' said the Head ofCID. 'Would you join the others now, please.'

  As Mrs Christopher retreated he turned back to Skinner. 'How d'you think we should play this, sir?'

  'It's your show, Andy,' the DCC replied.

  'Not so as I'd noticed.'

  Skinner grinned. 'Well. I did have a quick scout around.' He pointed along the twisting road which led out of the vil age. 'The track to the cottage is over there, but you're out of its sight until you're almost at the front door. The
van's tucked away beyond it, but it's angled so that you can't make out its number, dammit.

  'Behind the house there's a wee patch of woodland. The place backs right on to it, with hardly any garden. Some of the armed support is in there already. The rest are in the steading.'

  He looked quizzical y at Martin. 'Why don't Neil and I make our way through the woods, and you and Sammy go straight up the track?'

  'Why don't we cal in the SAS?' asked Pye.

  'Because there is at least one kid in there that we know of, Sam,'

  Skinner replied. 'The SAS go in bloody. I don't want any child deafened by a stun grenade or shot by this man in a panic.'

  'That's right,' said the Chief Superintendent. 'Let's be gentle about it. I'l just walk up and knock the front door, with you two out the back, and al that firepower in the woods and across the field.'

  Skinner nodded. 'You'd better advise the armed support commander.

  If he comes out shooting, or even showing a gun, he goes down.' He grimaced. 'I wish we knew just a wee bit more about the situation, but with what we've got, the balance of the risk says we do it now.'

  They split into the agreed pairs. Skinner led Mcl henney into the wood, finding a rough path through the trees, trodden down by the armed support officers. A hundred yards or so into the plantation they came upon the four-strong unit, well hidden in the gloom from anyone looking from the bright afternoon outside.

  'Seen any movement inside the house?' the DCC asked a uniformed sergeant. The man looked at him, clearly surprised by his presence.

  'Only once, sir. A man came into the kitchen, then went out again carrying a can of Pepsi. He was a dead ringer for the photofit.'

  The radio which Mcllhenney was carrying crackled into life.

  'We're in position.' Martin's voice sounded whispered. Skinner and his sergeant stepped across the low wire fence into the cottage's small garden. 'Ready,' said Mcllhenney.

  A few seconds later, they heard a loud knock. A few seconds after 228

  that, the back door swung open, fast, and a man rushed out: a tall, slim fair-haired man.

  His mouth opened in surprise as he caught sight of the two detectives, then panic showed in his eyes at the sight of the pistol in Mcl henney's hand. He started to run for the corner of the house, towards the grey van, the bonnet of which was just visible. He had taken two steps when Skinner hit him, slamming into him with a rugby tackle and bearing him to the ground. Roughly, the DCC rol ed the man on to his face and drove a knee into the smal of his back, as he reached for his wrists, to secure them.