The girl's voice took him by surprise. 'What are you doing to my Daddy?' she cried.
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'What have you done with him?' asked Alex.
'He's on his way back to England right now. Pamela and Sammy Pye are driving him and wee Sal y down to York. They'l be met at the police headquarters there by two officers from the Suffolk force.
They'l hand him over, stay overnight in York, and come back tomorrow morning.'
'Has he done this before, this Mr George?'
Martin shrugged. 'Once is too often for the court's liking. The custody arrangement in his divorce only al ows him one weekend a month, and he doesn't like it. He wanted to take his daughter on holiday for a week, but his ex-wife refused. So he turned up at her house yesterday evening, and grabbed the child.
'The mother went to court this morning, and the judge ordered his arrest for contempt. I feel a bit sorry for the guy real y. He's just a decent honest soul, a self-employed electrician who works on big projects. That's why his van was away for a few days at a time. The ex-wife's a lawyer, though, and she's got him tied up every way.'
Alex reached across the dining table and punched him lightly on the chin. 'Just you bear that in mind, then,' she laughed.
'Did Pops hurt him much, this poor chap?'
'Not really. He just knocked the wind out of him. He scared the wee girl though; he was a bit upset about that. It would have scared her more if big Neil had shot the bloke, though.'
'Why did he run?' she asked.
'He said that he was going round the side of the house to see who was at the door. When he saw Bob and Mcllhenney, pistol drawn, he panicked and tried to leg it.'
'And was it his cottage?'
'His dad's. His wife didn't know about it, apparently.'
Alex frowned. 'Poor sod. It's awful when couples get to that stage.
What'll happen to him, d'you think?'
'Ach, the Judge'11 probably keep him in custody for a week or two, then give him a bol ocking and let him go. Hopeful y, he'l review the custody deal while he's at it. I think the guy's got a grievance.'
He glanced at her, across the pizzas. 'Your dad's on his side too, 230
of course. I only hope it doesn't come to that with him and Sarah.'
'It won't.'
'How can you be so sure?'
'I know my dad, that's how. And my step-mum too.'
'Mmm,' Andy mused. 'I miss Sarah, you know. Wonder how she's doing?'
'Or who. His name's Terry, I believe.'
'Eh?'
'So Pops told me.'
'Sarah wouldn't.'
She grinned at him again, even more widely than before. 'Maybe she wouldn't. Bloody sure I would though, in her shoes. You can store that away for future reference too.'
'Hey,' he asked her, 'are you trying to talk me out of this engagement?'
'Far from it,' she replied. 'I want to get married.'
His eyes widened with his smile. 'You do? When?'
'As soon as I've got my dad sorted out. Are you game?'
'Need you ask?' He rose drawing her to her feet also and pul ed her to him, kissing her, running his broad fingers through her abundant wavy hair.
She reached down for his belt buckle. 'Pizzas'11 get cold,' he murmured.
'Sod the pizzas.'
From time to time, Andy Martin could convince himself that al telephones show malice towards humans, especially in certain circumstances.
'Sod that!' he growled as it rang. Still, he picked it up.
As Alex watched him, his face grew grim. 'You sure?' he said. 'I see. No, it doesn't. Yes, I'l tell her. She'll have him there.'
He hung up, and turned to her. 'That wasAl Cheshire, keeping his word to me. He's fixed a meeting with the Lord Advocate, for ten o'clock tomorrow, and he wants Bob there. They've found something else, and he thinks that LordArchibald will be forced to place formal charges.'
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'There's no doubt about this, is there? No chance that your expert could be wrong?'
Deputy Chief Constable Cheshire looked at the Lord Advocate solemnly. 'Sir, we've consulted the manufacturer of the machine. The company's chief design engineer himself will testify that the note which accompanied the deposit in the Guernsey bank was typed on an electric machine purchased five years ago by John Jackson Charles Automobiles Limited, a typewriter seized subsequently by the police during a raid on premises owned by Mr and Mrs Charles.
'Since the day when it was impounded, by Mr Skinner and Sergeant Neil Mcllhenney, it has been under lock and key in the production store at Fettes Avenue. Mr Skinner may argue in his defence that someone found their way into his office to hide the Guernsey receipt in his desk. But to argue that the same person broke into the production store, found that machine among thousands of items, plugged it in and typed the note . . . I'm sorry, My Lord, but that is surely stretching credulity.'
Lord Archibald gazed at Skinner across his desk. The detective stared back, impassively.
'I'm sorry, Bob,' he said. 'And I have to say that I'm hugely disappointed. Are you stil maintaining your innocence?'
Skinner gave no answer, nor made any movement.
'Mmm,' said Archibald. 'You'd better say nothing anyway. Look, David Pettigrew, the Fiscal is in the next room. He will caution and charge you, formal y. There will be no announcement from this office, but you wil appear in the Sheriff Court tomorrow to be formal y remanded.
'There'l be no plea taken and of course you'l be released on a simple ordination to appear at a later hearing, but at the pleading diet, it'll be for the Sheriff to decide whether bail should be allowed.
I think it's inevitable that the case will be sent to the High Court for disposal.'
He turned back to Cheshire and Ericson. 'You two. Get up to Perth right away and see the man Charles again. I'd like to proceed against him, but I don't have a prospect of success. So, tell him what we've got and see if he'll agree to be a Crown witness, with immunity.'
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Mitchell Laidlaw stirred in his seat chair. 'Archie, may I.. .'
The Lord Advocate anticipated the rest of the question. 'Yes,' he said. 'You may interview Charles also, separately. But I mean you, and you alone. Not Bob, under any circumstances, and not Alex either.'
He rose, ending the meeting. 'Now, let's get Pettigrew in here and start putting this most unfortunate business to rest.'
-ys
.iISS!'
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'That tears it, Bob,' said Laidlaw.
'Charles has given Cheshire and Ericson a statement saying that he paid you the hundred thousand as a bribe, to secure reduced charges. He says that you gave him a sealed envelope with the destination bank inside, and that he passed it unopened to his associate, Douglas Terry.
'Further, he goes on to say that it was Terry - who is of course conveniently dead - who hired the courier and arranged the gathering in of the money. The Crown wil probably argue that Terry may have raised the cash in England, knocking the banknote defence on the head.'
'Does Charles admit to typing the note?' asked Skinner.
Laidlaw nodded. 'Yes, he does.' The lawyer sighed. 'Bob, would Charles have spent a hundred thousand just to frame you?'
The big policeman smiled grimly. 'It sure looks like that, doesn't it?'
The two men, with Andy Martin, were in the living room at Fairyhouse Avenue. 'So where do you think the typewriter thing puts us, Mitch, in terms of our defence?' Skinner asked.
'I've spoken to Miss Dawson about that, by telephone,' the solicitor replied. 'Her view is that it's very serious indeed. It almost completes the chain of evidence. However, she still feels that as long as the Crown can't produce the note which Charles al eges you gave him, she has a slim chance of steering the jury towards a Not Proven verdict, providing she can also convince them that your signature could have been obtained by trickery.'
Skinner turned towards his s
olicitor. 'The bal 's in your court. You go back to see Christabel. Start work on a defence. As for me, I'm going looking for Mr Noel Salmon. I'm going to do something I should have done long ago. I'm going to scare the shit out of that little man, and with it, hopeful y, a name.'
He smiled, wickedly. 'You see, the one thing that Jackie Charles would find it difficult to do from his hotel suite in Perth Jail is to make a private, unrecorded cal to Salmon, to tip him off about the bank account.
'Jackie's cute. He's turned Cheshire and Ericson back on 234
themselves and got them to buy a statement that could be complete supposition on his part. He's built his story on things that they've told him. The idea that he agreed to pay me off, then turned the mechanics over to Dougie Terry, that's brilliant for two reasons: one, because that's exactly how he used to work, and two, because Terry isn't around any more to contradict him.
'Not that he would have. Dougie the Comedian would have died for Charles. Come to think of it, he did.'
Skinner smiled again, in recol ection this time. 'Jackie to Terry, Terry to someone else, and that someone else did whatever needed doing. One to one al the time, so there was never any corroboration.
That was the way they worked, and it was the reason why we were never able to nail Jackie for any of the big stuff he was involved in.
'That's why the idea of bunging me to reduce the charges is al so much shite. We always needed Terry's evidence to be sure of convicting Charles, so when he got his head caved in, we were stuffed.
'That's something Jackie's overlooked in his eagerness to nail me, and Cheshire and Ericson didn't realise. With Terry dead, there were no other charges we could have made stick. Christabel should be able to take him apart in the box with that.'
He turned to Martin. 'Andy, would you do me a big favour? Don't tell anyone about it, just do it, please. Ask McGuire and Mcllhenney if they would go up to Perth to question Charles. Tell them to get him to go over his statement again, and again, and again. Tel them also, while he's doing that, to drop in plenty of hints about perjury charges, and the penalties.
'Jackie's out on a limb, you see. I reckon he's seen a chance to get even with me, and he's jumped at it. But if we can undermine his confidence, scare him a wee bit about the risk he's taking, hint that there are one or two things that he doesn't know about, then maybe, just maybe, he'll withdraw that statement.
'Will you do that?'
Martin nodded.'Of course.'
'Thanks. But explain to Mario and Neil that this isn't an order. If either of them feels uncomfortable about it, I'l understand.'
'You real y do think Charles is lying, Bob, don't you?' said Laidlaw.
'That he couldn't be the one who's set you up?'
'I'm certain of it. He had nothing to do with that money. He didn't know about it til Cheshire and Ericson went up to Perth and told him, but when they did, a whole world of possibilities opened up in his devious wee mind.
'The one thing he couldn't do, though, was make that phone cal to Salmon.'
'Maybe he had an accomplice?' the solicitor suggested.
Skinner shook his head, firmly, pursing his lips. 'The only three 235
accomplices Jackie Charles ever had in his life were his wife Carole, Tony Manson, and Dougie Terry. And they're al dead.
'No, the person who gave that information to Salmon was the person who set me up, without any assistance from Jackie, or anyone else.'
He stood, abruptly. 'Right Mitch, you'd better go and see Christabel again. I'l meet the two of you at the Sheriff Court tomorrow: nine thirty, as Davie Pettigrew asked. Andy, you talk to Mario and Neil about going up to Perth.'
Martin nodded. 'Are you going after Salmon? Because if you find him, I wouldn't want. . .'
His friend laughed. 'You wouldn't want me to damage him, you were going to say? Don't worry, son, I'l get the truth out of that wee man without laying a finger on him. Anyway, he can wait till tomorrow.
'This afternoon, I'm going out to Gul ane. I was reminded on Sunday that my golf game's a bit rusty. So just for a break, and to let me do some uninterrupted thinking, I think I'l hit a few bal s. When Pam gets back from York, tell her that's where I'll be, and that I'll probably stay out there tonight, if she wants to join me.'
'Sure, I'll do that.' His right eyebrow rose, with a recollection.
'Speaking of your lady,' he added, 'I had a call this morning from the Central Force. The woman she's due to replace has had a complication of pregnancy, so she's gone off earlier than scheduled. They'd like Pam right away if they can have her.'
'How soon?'
'Thursday, if possible?'
'Can you spare her?'
'I think in all the circumstances, it'd be best if I could.'
'Then talk to her about it. And as long as she's happy, that'l be fine. Then the two of us can get on with sorting out our future. I think I owe it to us both to make an honest woman out of Pamela.'
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'How long have you got to do, Jackie?' asked McGuire.
John Jackson Charles, managing somehow to look immaculate even in badly cut prison clothes, looked at him coolly. 'I expect to be released in two years and one month ... as you must know.'
'This story, the one you've told us twice now, about our boss,'
said Neil Mcl henney. 'You wouldn't have the idea, would you, that it might get you out a year or so early?'
'I'm not so naive, Sergeant.'
Mcl henney laughed. 'I know that, all right. You're not infal ible either though. If you were you wouldn't be wearing that fucking awful suit right now. Daks is your preference, isn't it.'
'Yes,' countered Charles, evenly, 'and Hugo Boss: just for the odd bit of variety you understand. I've got a wardrobe ful of them, waiting for me. Dior shirts, too.'
'You might find it easier to put them on when you get out,' growled McGuire.
'Why?'
'You might not have to pul them over your head. Because you might not have a rucking head by then.'
Jackie Charles looked at the silent guards, standing by the door of the prison interview room. 'Are you threatening me, Inspector?'
McGuire flashed his best Latin smile. 'Not at al . I was just hinting at something you might have forgotten.
'Suppose this bright idea of yours actually works, and a jury believes that you bribed our boss. He'l go down, undoubtedly: seven or eight years, probably, while you, as a Crown witness, will be immune from prosecution.
'The Scottish prison network isn't al that big. The odds against big Bob being sent here aren't al that great. Suppose you two wind up in the same nick. Have you considered what he might do to you?'
The first flicker of doubt showed through Charles' confident veneer. 'Why would he do that? He solicited the bribe. He only has himself to blame.'
Mcl henney grunted. 'I know big Bob a bit better than you, Jackie.
He might not see it that way. And the Inspector's right, you know.
He's got a real nasty streak to him. Christ, if he could put big Lenny 237
Plenderleith in hospital, what's he going to do to you?'
'Let's just go over this story of yours one more time,' said McGuire.
Charles sighed. 'Really!'
'Humour us. Just one more time.'
'Oh, very well. But just once more and that's it.Your great Skinner approached me last year. We go way back, you know. Bob and I. He thought, rightly, as it turned, out that one of your guys might be on the take. I made enquiries about some things that my wife and Dougie Terry were doing, and found that he was right. Into the bargain, I found out that I was in some trouble.
'So I went back to Bob, and I gave him the name of your bad apple. I also suggested, very obliquely, that there might be something in it for him, if he could limit my personal damage.' He looked at McGuire and Mcl henney, his eyes wide and innocent. 'To my surprise, he came back to me and said that his terms were a hundred thousand cash, payable in accordance wit
h instructions in a sealed envelope. He told me that it contained the address of a bank, and a copy of his signature and personal details.
'In return, he said that charges against me would be limited to tax offences, and that I would do a year, eighteen months at the most.'
'And you agreed to pay this backhander?' asked Mcl henney.
'Yes. I decided that it was a worthwhile investment. So I gave the envelope, unopened, to Douglas and told him to make it work. Two days later, he came back to me and told me that the arrangements had been made, and gave me the name of the bank to which the money had been sent.'
'Why did you decide to shop him now?'
Charles smiled, grimly. 'When I heard about the publicity over Bob's private life, it occurred to me that his feet of clay had been exposed. So I decided to drop a word.
'I didn't intend that it should get back to me, of course. I thought that evidence of the payment would be enough.'
McGuire leaned forward, forearms on the table. 'How did you get that word to the Lord Advocate?' he asked. 'We know you didn't phone his office from here; that would have been picked up.'
Charles hesitated, for the first time, taken aback by the question.
'I found someone from Edinburgh who was being released first thing next day,' he replied at last, 'and gave him an anonymous note addressed to the Crown Office.'
'Handwritten? Suggesting that someone should look at the JZG
Bank in Guernsey?'
'That's right.'
'What was the name of the man who dropped the note for you?'
Charles shrugged. 'I can't remember. He was just another inmate.'
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'His name wasn't Salmon, was it?' asked Mcllhenney. 'Noel Salmon?'
The prisoner hesitated again. 'Yes,' he said, final y, 'that was it.'
The two policemen looked at each other, smiling. 'Interview suspended,' said McGuire, reaching across to switch off the tape recorder on the table. 'Jackie,' he grinned, 'you've blown it. Twice.
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