Murmuring the Judges

14

There was nothing grand about the office of the Head of CID. It was on the same level as the Command Corridor, but smaller and less well furnished than the Chief Officers’ accommodation.

Nonetheless, DCS Andy Martin appreciated its location, beyond a general office where his assistants sat, allowing them to act as a barrier and to filter visitors, deflecting casual callers whenever their chief wished to be left alone.

No one deflected Bob Skinner. He marched into the suite, just after four-thirty, and headed straight for Martin’s door with a nod and a smile to Sammy Pye. He was dressed in light cotton jeans and a polo shirt, and a dark shadow showed on his chin.

‘How are we doing, then, Andy?’ he asked as he stepped into the room.

‘No result, if that’s what you mean,’ the younger man answered tersely. ‘These people are efficient as well as ruthless.

‘We traced the grey Escort to a car park on the outskirts of Gala. The owner’s a Mrs Mason. She works in a shop round the corner, and she says she leaves it there every day. As far as I can gather, they drove another vehicle into the park, stole the Escort to do the job, then just came back and swapped back to their own car.’

‘Or cars,’ said the DCC, ‘unless you know for sure that they all travelled together. It would have been more secure to disperse separately.’

‘That’s true. I’ve no way of telling though. The car park is surfaced, and John McGrigor tells me there were no tyre marks.’

‘How’s big John holding up?’

‘He’s okay. He was very cut up yesterday, but he’s a good professional. He’s being very efficient, just as you’d expect.’

‘How did we trace the car?’

‘Mrs Mason was stopped on her way home. She didn’t have a clue that her car had been used, and nor would we have, but one of the traffic lads who pulled her up noticed blood on one of the back seats. Harry Riach’s blood as it turned out. He was the civilian victim.’

‘I know, I had a look at the Scotsman before I came in.’ Skinner paused. I didn’t take to the headline much. ‘Gang terrorises Scottish banks. No leads, police confess.’ Why the hell did you let Jimmy take the press conference?’

‘He insisted. See that silver braid on his uniform? It means he’s Chief Constable. He said it was down to him and him alone. Afterwards, I think he’d like to have torn Julian Finney’s heart out.’

‘I’ve felt like that, too. Maybe I will some day.’

The tall, tanned DCC poured himself a mug of coffee from Martin’s filter, adding a touch of milk. ‘Have Arthur Dorward’s team finished with the car?’

‘Yes,’ Martin replied. ‘They found nothing, except Mrs Mason’s fag-ends and Riach’s blood. The witnesses said that the guy who shot him was drenched in it: as you’d expect after a contact wound with a sawn-off.’

Skinner shuddered.

‘What do we have then?’ he asked. ‘Anything at all?’

‘One very fine straw to clutch. I went to see Nathan Bennett today, the guy we’ve got banged up for the first robbery. I put the fear of God in him, to try to get him to turn Crown evidence. Somebody’s beaten me to it though. As Brian Mackie thought, he’s been told to plead guilty, or else.

‘But something he said made me think that the threat might not be against him alone. He has an unmarried sister, name of Hannah, out in Bonnyrigg. I’ve checked with Saughton, and she’s the only visitor he’s had all the time he’s been in custody. I reckon someone’s been to see her, to give Nathan his orders, and I suspect that she’s in the firing line should Bennett break ranks.’

‘You going to see her?’

‘First thing tomorrow, I thought. Maybe around eight o’clock. Catch her early, shake her up a bit.’

‘Good idea. I think I’ll come too.’

‘Fine. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.’

Skinner nodded. ‘I’ll be ready.’ He hesitated. ‘No, why don’t you and Alex come to Gullane for supper tonight? We’re having a Thai takeaway. You can stay over, and we’ll leave from there.’