Skinner’s round

Sixty-six

‘This is the oddest breakfast I've ever had, I think,' said Bob. He, Sarah, Alex and Andy, sat round the conservatory table, just after nine-forty-five, surveying the detritus of boiled eggs, beef tomatoes, baguettes, and coffee. Beside them Jazz slurped happily, as his sister introduced him to the taste of another new baby-food.

‘For the last twelve hours, my life's been turning somersaults. I've never known a week quite like this, for twists and turns, damn few of them expected. But I can see the picture now. I know who I'm after, although whether I'll be able to catch my quarry is something else.'

He stared at the ceiling. Sarah and Alex looked at him. This was a mood new to both of them.

It was Andy who broke the silence. 'Bob. What the Marquis said back there, about the old woman calling down her powers and everything. I mean, that's all balls, and you mustn't let yourself dwell on it.'

Bob looked at him and smiled. 'Don't worry, Andy. I won't do that. Hector Kinture was right about one thing. Some things are best left undisturbed, and that one will be.'

He looked at the ceiling once more, focusing on a dark patch on the paintwork. 'All the same, faith is a dangerous thing. And old Nana Soutar had plenty of that; four centuries of it, in fact.

She believed beyond all reason in the legend of Agnes Tod. The whole world's built on faith, you know, Andy It's held together by good faith, and it can be broken by bad. People with the sort of faith that Nana Soutar had, people like that can move mountains.

One thing that I know for certain is that I don't know everything. And I'll tell you; I don't want to! So don't worry, my friend; I won't brood on what the daft old lady said. I'll let it lie, for my sake and for everyone else's.'

Alex wiped Jazz's mouth with a soft cloth. 'What the hell are you two going on about?' Sarah asked.

I'll tell you later, and I'll let Andy tell Alex. Meantime…'

Once more, he was interrupted by the ringing of the telephone. 'What now, I wonder?' He picked up the remote handset which lay on the table, near to hand, extended the aerial and pressed the 'Talk' button.

`Skinner,' he said, his voice unusually tetchy.

`Hello, sir. It's Brian Mackie. I'm coming out to Witches' Hill, but right now I'm still in the office. There's been some news from England'

Oh aye? What's that?'

`Richard Andrews has been found.'

Skinner sat upright in his chair. 'Andrews! Where?'

`He's turned up in Farnham, in Surrey, sir. In a private clinic.

`When we started looking for him, we circulated the number of his hired car to every force in the country, with a request to locate at all costs. Last night, a Detective Constable on the Surrey force was visiting his mother in the Farnham clinic, when he spotted it in the car park.

`He went in and he checked the clinic's records. Andrews has been a patient there since last Saturday. He's due to leave today. The Surrey CID have him under observation, but they're taking no action till they hear from us.'

`Did they ask who made the booking?'

`Sure, it was made for him by his doctor in the States, two weeks ago, on an emergency basis.

He turned up on schedule, last Saturday evening. He was checked over on Sunday, had his surgical procedure last Monday, and he's been recuperating ever since. He's never been out of his room, he's made no phone calls and he's received none. He's read no newspapers, just listened to music all week. Non-stop Pavarotti.'

Skinner, phone in hand, glanced across the table at Martin. `So why the secrecy? Why didn't he tell anyone where he was going, not even Morton, his cousin as well as his boss? Do we know?'

He was surprised by Mackie's uncharacteristic laugh. 'I think I can guess, sir. The Farnham clinic is internationally respected, apparently. It specialises in the treatment of complaints of a delicate, personal nature.

Apparently Andrews was the unhappy owner of one of the finest collections of haemorrhoids they've ever seen. Piles of them, you might say. Like a bunch of grapes, the Matron described them.

I can understand a guy with a major dose of the Farmers being a bit shy about them, boss.

They wouldn't do anything for his hard-man image, would they?'

Skinner laughed. 'No, I don't suppose they would. Still, it's nice to know that the Almighty bestows his bounty where it's most deserved.'

`What do you want the people in Surrey to do about him, sir? Pick him up?'

`No, Brian. There's no reason for that. All they've got to do is break the news to him that he's minus one cousin. Put that in hand, will you?'

He paused, in thought, for a few moments, and a dark gleam came into his eye. 'Eliminating Andrews completes the jigsaw, Brian. The picture's clear now.

`Listen, don't come out here yet. I want some enquiries made very fast in a couple of places.

And I need a favour from my colleagues in the security services, in the communications section.

`Here's what you do.'