Murmuring the Judges

25

‘D’you think I should cancel my holiday, Bob?’ Sir James Proud wore a heavy frown. ‘After all, you came home early from yours. When news of Archergait’s murder breaks. . as it will. . what will people think if I’m away?’

Skinner grinned at him. ‘They’ll think, correctly, that you have absolute confidence in your Deputy. Listen, Jimmy, apart from your doctor, I’m the only person who knows the outcome of your last medical. You’ve been told to take a good holiday this summer. . without a mobile phone.

‘Your ferry is booked, and like it or not you are heading off tomorrow for four weeks at my place in Spain. If you’re going to be difficult about that, I’ll pick up the phone and tell Lady Chrissie. She’ll sort you out.’

The Chief Constable held up his hands in surrender. ‘I give up. Och, but man, you know how it is, being away when there’s a crisis.’

Skinner nodded. ‘I know. Tell you what, I will fax you every so often, to keep you in touch with current affairs: football results and that sort of thing. If I should happen to slip in details of the investigations. . well just don’t let Chrissie see them, that’s all.’

Proud Jimmy smiled at him, mollified. ‘Rugby results, rather than football, please. I never understand why they call it the beautiful game. Why, there’s hardly a team in Scotland has a flat pitch to play on.’

He swivelled in his chair and looked out of his window. When he turned back to face Skinner, his mood had changed. ‘How long do you think you’ll be able to keep the wraps on Billy Archergait’s murder?’ he asked.

‘Long enough to clear it up, I hope. McGuire and McIlhenney are up at the Court now, beginning a very discreet investigation.’

‘Are you going to check back through his case log, to see if there’s someone he sent down in the past who might fit the bill?’

The DCC nodded. ‘Yes, we are. The Lord President’s going to help us there. The trouble is the old boy was a judge for so long, it’s a needle in a haystack job. We’re going to talk to Archergait’s sons as well, of course.

‘I’m seeing Norman King later on today.’

Proud looked at him. ‘Tell me straight, Bob, are you optimistic about a speedy conclusion to this one?’

Skinner frowned and shook his head. ‘Without a big slice of luck, no I’m not. There’s an answer somewhere in the old boy’s career, or in his past life somewhere, but we won’t find it by pushing a button on a computer. There’s lot of sifting and analysis to be done, I fear.’

‘What about the inquiries?’

‘It’s the same story there. We’ve established that McDonnell, the missing prison officer, the man we think set the Bennetts up, caught an Air UK flight to Amsterdam yesterday. His ticket was waiting for him at Edinburgh Airport. It was a direct booking with the airline by telephone, and he paid for it there, by cheque.

‘The deaths of the Bennetts and his disappearance have closed off one line of inquiry, but there are other things we can do. It’ll mean still more sifting and analysis, but I know the very boy to do it. I’m just off to see Andy about that.

‘Once I’ve done that, I’m off down to the Borders. I’m attending the funeral of Harry Riach, the civilian victim in the Gala hold-up, with John McGrigor.’

‘You’ll represent me at PC Brown’s service tomorrow, won’t you?’

‘Don’t worry, Chief, I’ll even wear my uniform. I’ll go to Archergait’s as well. I believe the family are trying to fix it for Thursday.’

‘Sounds like a grim week, Bob. You make me feel all the more guilty to be going away.’

Skinner shot him a thin smile as he rose. ‘Listen, I don’t want to be following your coffin as well. Four weeks’ rest, man. Doctor’s orders. Give me a call when you get there, to confirm that everything in the house is okay for you.’

Sir James stood and walked him to the door. ‘Good luck, then,’ he said, ‘on all fronts.’

Outside in the corridor, the DCC turned and headed for the CID suite. He found Martin in his office poring fruitlessly over interview statements by neighbours of Hannah Bennett and by the residents of the block from which her brother had been assassinated.

‘Anything there?’

The Head of CID looked up from his desk. ‘Not a thing. Deaf, dumb and fucking blind, the lot of them. One bloke round the corner from Hannah thinks he might have seen a red car parked outside his house late in the evening, or it might have been blue, or maybe dark green. It could have been a Vauxhall, but then again, maybe a Ford.’

‘What about the woman herself? Did you learn anything new about her?’

‘She was fairly pally with the lady four doors up it seems. According to her, Hannah didn’t have a boyfriend, as such. There was one bloke she had dinner with from time to time. He was an elder in her church, but he got engaged to someone else a couple of years back. Since then, there’s been no one.’

‘What about the brother?’

‘No one seems to know much about him. A dour bugger who ignored most people: that’s how he struck the neighbours. That was how he came across in jail as well. Dan Pringle’s lot spoke to all of the untried prisoners at Saughton, and that’s how most of them described him, one way or another.’

He looked up at Skinner from behind his desk. ‘Actually, I was thinking I might ask Brian to organise some re-interviewing up at Bonnyrigg, concentrating on Nathan this time. I mean, someone there must have got to know him. I’m going to find out where he drank, and ask some questions there.’

‘Fair enough, Andy, but there’s something else I think we have to do, too. We’re agreed that these robberies were meticulously planned, yes?’

Martin nodded.

‘Okay, in that case the planner, the organiser, the Boss, if you’re right, may well have been in every one of those banks. We know that they all have video security, with recording systems. If those systems are any good, every one of those branches could have him on tape.

‘It’ll be a hell of a task, I know, but we should have someone reviewing all those recordings from at least three months before the first robbery, looking for the same face showing up, one, two, three, four times.’

Andy Martin flashed a twisted grin. ‘Who do you have in mind for that job? How about wee Mark, given the memory that he’s got?’

‘You’re probably right, but it wouldn’t say much for the strength of our resources if we had to use a seven-year-old. Actually, I was thinking of someone a bit older.’ He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, towards the outer office.

‘Sammy? Good idea. He’s a bright spark and he’s got the patience for the job. Why don’t you call him in, so we can give him the good news.’