Thursday legends

54

'We've got to stop meeting like this, pal, or people will talk,' said Bob Skinner, grimly, as Andy Martin looked down at him on his hospital bed, in a small private room in Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. 'A couple of days ago and it was me doing the sick visiting.'

'What's the damage?' his friend asked, gesturing at his left leg, which lay outside the sheets, encased in plaster from the knee down.

'They're not sure yet, although they say there's nothing broken. It could be no more than severe bruising, but there's the possibility of ligament damage in my ankle. They've put this pot on for a week, to immobilise it and keep me from putting weight on it.'

'I wanted them to plaster the other leg too,' Sarah chuckled from the doorway, 'to make sure he stays off it. They wouldn't, though.'

Her husband looked at her, unsmiling. 'When I find the driver of that car,' he growled, 'I want at least one good leg to stand on… so I can kick his fucking head in with this stookey.'

'You're still sure it was deliberate?' Martin murmured, gently. 'Couldn't it have been just an accident? A learner driver out on a back road.'

Skinner glared at him. 'I'm as sure as you were on Friday morning,' he snapped. 'The bastard was aiming at me — aiming at us! Christ, when I think of it…' His eyes were chilling.

'How are the boys?' Andy asked.

'Mark got a hell of a fright. As for the wee fella, he thought it was the best game I'd ever invented; he wanted me to do it again.' He grinned at the memory, through his rage. 'He's like a big rubber ball, that one…' The smile vanished as quickly as it had come. 'But he flew right out of the carrier, Andy. He could have hit his head on a rock or anything; for a moment I thought that he had.'

'Where are they now?'

'Alex is with them, out at Gullane,' Sarah answered. 'Alex?'

'Yes. And yes, Andy, I told her. She sends her very best — to both of you — and she really means it. She was as surprised as we were at first, but when she'd thought about it, she reckoned that it was the best thing that could happen to you.'

Martin nodded. 'That's good. I was just a bit worried about how she would take it.'

'Me too. But maybe it's the best thing that could happen to her too. It'll finally allow her to get over you.'

'Sure, she will.' He assured her, then turned to Skinner once more. 'But back to this car. As soon as I heard, I put an "all vehicles" call out for anything answering that description. I dropped Karen at the office to wait for any response, but to be honest, Bob, I thought at the time that we were way too late.'

'Aye, I know, Andy, but there was no more I could have done. My mobile was buggered by the impact, and it took me Christ alone knows long to get out of that field. I had to calm Mark down before I did anything else. Then I found that where we had landed up, we couldn't be seen easily from the road. I thought about asking Mark to go out on to the roadside and flag down a car, but he'd have been too frightened — and anyway, there was the outside chance that bastard might have come back.

'So I had to get Jazz back into the carrier, then get myself mobile. Ever tried hopping on one leg across a ploughed field with upwards of twenty kilos strapped to your back, laughing all the way because he thinks it's funny?

'Anyway, I made it to the fence, and then had to wait a quarter of an hour before the first car showed up. Hardly anybody uses that West Fenton road, not even the bloody Sunday drivers.

'I knew fine that the bastard would probably have been back in Edinburgh, or miles down the Al, or anywhere else by the time I got through to you.'

'About the car, Bob. You gave a description earlier, but has anything else occurred to you about it? You haven't remembered the registration number, have you?'

Skinner shook his head, looking almost guilty. 'I honestly never saw it, Andy. When I looked back at it, I was dazzled by the sun off the windscreen. After that, I was too busy trying to save the kids to notice anything else.'

'Did you see anything of the driver? Anything at all?'

'Not a thing. The glass was too dark. The car was black, or very dark blue, with colour coded bumpers; a big four-by-four, not a Range Rover but something similar. That's all I can tell you about it — apart from one thing.'

'What's that?'

'It was parked in Hill Road earlier on.' Martin's eyebrows rose. 'You sure about that?' 'Abso-fucking-lutely. There were cars parked all the way up; I remember making a mental note to bollock the local traffic people about it. The vehicle that ran me down was fourth or fifth away from my gate, facing downhill. Its driver was waiting for me; waiting for the chance I gave him.'

He took Sarah's hand as she sat on his bed. 'Which means, my darling, that three members, active or otherwise, of the Thursday Legends have now been the subject of murderous attacks in little over a week.'

'I knew you were going to say that!' she retorted. 'Bob, how many enemies or potential enemies have you made over the years, aside from people you may have upset at your silly football? If you are still harbouring a theory that there's someone out there taking revenge on anyone who ever kicked him on a Thursday night, then let me remind you of what I've told you already.

'Alec Smith and the Diddler were not killed by the same person.'

'No,' said Martin. 'And Lawrence Scotland wasn't your hit-and-run driver either. Listen, Bob, Dan Pringle called me just before I got here, to tell me that he has a strong new lead on the Diddler enquiry, which is certainly not connected to Alec Smith. We've got less evidence than ever to support the notion of a link between these crimes.

'I'm certainly going to treat the attack on you as a separate incident. I'm putting your house under CID observation — and don't try to countermand me on that, or I'll have the Chief countermand you.'

'All right, all right,' Skinner agreed, grudgingly. 'Now here's an order for you; the Alec Smith investigation stays open, in the meantime at least.' He looked at his wife.

'I accept what you say, Sarah, that there were two different killers. However that does not contradict my gut feeling that there's a thread which ties together the two murders and the attack on me. And you are right about one thing, Andy; that thread is certainly not your man Scotland.

'If there is a team working here, mate, then while I'm laid up I want you to find them. Most especially, I want you to find the one who drove that vehicle at me and my boys, and lock him up far away from me. That's another interview I dare not do myself.'

Martin nodded, grimly. 'I'll steer clear of that one too, for the same reason; that'll be another one for Maggie, I think.'

He headed for the door. 'I'd better get back to Fettes to let Karen off the hook… and help her clear her desk.'

'She's not going back then?'

'No. I've told her she's on leave from Monday. I'll formalise her resignation with the Personnel people.'

Bob smiled. 'I should be mad with you for costing us a damn good officer, but in the circumstances…' He broke off.

'Oh, by the way, it's amazing the things that come to you as you're lying in an ambulance. Remember I had a niggle about Alec Smith's room?'

'Yes.'

'Well, I worked out what it was. That hook — the one Alec was strung up on.' 'What do you mean?'

'It was a big shiny, steel hook, driven into the beam, and fairly recently by the look of it. Let's assume that the killer didn't put it there himself, but saw it and used it.'

'Fair enough. So?'

'So Alec Smith was one of the most methodical men I ever knew. Everything I saw in that room had a purpose; even the ornaments were functional. That's what set me wondering. What the hell was that hook for?'