Aftershock

Twenty-five

Skinner checked his watch: it showed one minute to eleven, Central European Time. There had been no call from McGuire with the name and location of a contact with the French police.

‘Let’s hit the road,’ he said to Aileen testily, ‘if you still want to come, that is.’

‘Of course I do,’ she replied, ‘but don’t you want to give Mario another half-hour?’

‘Fifteen minutes, maybe.’

‘Which force will your contact be from?’

‘The gendarmerie, I suppose, since it’s a rural area. The Police Nationale, the lot that used to be called the Sûreté, operate in the cities and larger towns.’

‘See?’ She smiled. ‘National police forces.’

‘The gendarmerie is under the control of the French defence ministry,’ he pointed out. ‘They’re bloody soldiers in all but name. Do you want Scotland to have riot police like they’ve got. . the CRS, bussing in heavies in uniform from Aberdeen when there’s trouble in Glasgow, so there’s less chance of them knowing any of the heads they crack open?’

‘Okay, okay,’ Aileen assured him. ‘I’m not jumping the gun; we still have to discuss your report. Now, are you going to tell me why you’re on edge all of a sudden?’

‘Ach, it’s nothing.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Bob.’

His grin had a boyish look to it. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘when you put on that face, I understand how the guy who leads your opposition in the Parliament must feel, when he gets his weekly hammering. I’m sorry, love. When you were in the shower I had a phone call I wasn’t expecting.’

‘Who was it from?’

‘Jimmy, the chief; telling me that he’s chucking it. Retiring. Taking his pension. Now.’

‘But he’s not supposed to go until next year.’

‘Not quite. He has to go next year, but with his service, he could have retired years ago on full whack.’

‘What’s made him change his mind?’

‘The tank’s empty, he says. He also said that he’s been feeling like a spare prick in the command corridor for the last two or three years, although I don’t know what he meant by that. Jimmy’s been a great chief constable; there won’t be another like him.’

‘Oh, no?’

‘No, there won’t, ever,’ he insisted. ‘Jimmy’s unique.’

‘And so will you be.’

‘That’s what he said too. He also told me that he’ll take it as a personal affront if I don’t apply for the job.’

‘So will I …’ said Aileen. She paused. ‘Well, maybe not quite as strongly as that, but I’ll be disappointed.’

‘Maybe you’re the very reason why I won’t apply. The First Minister’s partner in a chief constable’s uniform? The tabloids will have a field day.’

‘Excuse my English, but fuck the tabloids. What’s my job got to do with yours or yours with mine? If I thought that I was preventing you from being all you should be, I’d get out of the way.’

He stared at her. ‘You’d leave me?’

She smiled. ‘Don’t be so bloody silly. I’ll never leave you. But I’m only a politician, a glorified committee chair. I could be replaced tomorrow, as my predecessor found out the hard way, and it wouldn’t hurt me to walk away. You, my love, are different; you’re a leader. . born and bred, from what you’ve told me about your father. This is something you’ve got to do.’

‘I’m a hands-on cop, Aileen,’ he said quietly.

‘Then be a hands-on chief constable; break the bloody mould. I’ve seen all of them, you know; I’ve met all the Scottish chiefs. We don’t need yet another bureaucrat among them. We need you. And if I do start a debate about a national police force, I’ll need you. . on the right side.’

He slid his arms around her waist. ‘You know what? I need you too, Ms de Marco, much more than I need any career; you’ve been the salvation of me. Tell you what: I’ll do you a deal. You marry me, and I’ll apply for Jimmy’s job.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘You. .’ she gasped. ‘Don’t think you can wriggle out of it like that. You’ve got a responsibility to the people.’ She paused. ‘However, if that’s what it takes. . okay, you’ve got a deal.’

He raised her on her toes and kissed her. ‘When?’ he murmured.

‘In six months,’ she replied, ‘if we both still want it. Let’s get you in the chair first, let some time elapse, and then do it quietly. When does Sir James go?’

‘In a couple of months; he’ll give a period of notice and take accrued leave. End result, he’ll be gone before September. The selection process will take longer than that, though; much of the six months you were talking about.’ He put his forehead against hers. ‘By the way, that was serious nonsense you were talking back there. No way are you just a glorified committee chair. It’s people like you who make people like me decide not to take over the country, not just yet.’

Aileen laughed. ‘You will let me know when you change your mind, won’t you, so I can have you arrested?’

Bob checked his watch. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s get on the road. I’ve got a witness to track down and interview.’

He was in the act of picking up the car keys when the phone rang. ‘At last,’ he exclaimed, snatching it up. ‘Mario?’ he said.

‘Mr Skinner?’ asked a female voice.

‘Yes.’

‘Is the First Minister with you?’

‘That depends. Who is this, and how did you get this number?’

‘It’s the Lord Advocate’s office, and Lena McElhone, her private secretary, gave it to me.’

He ignored the stiffness in the woman’s voice. ‘She’s here,’ he conceded. ‘What’s the panic?’

‘The Lord Advocate would like to speak to Ms de Marco.’

He could feel Aileen’s eyes on his back. ‘Please tell the Lord Advocate she’ll call him back in a couple of minutes. I have your office number.’

‘That’s all right. I’ll hold on.’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘The First Minister will call you back.’

‘I could have taken it,’ she said, as he turned to face her.

‘And possibly found yourself talking to the news editor of the Daily Star. She could have been anyone. Basic security, love, that’s all. I’ll call Johnson back now.’ He flipped through his directory, found the number and dialled it. ‘I have the First Minister on the line for the Lord Advocate,’ he told the switchboard. ‘He’s expecting the call.’

He handed over the white handset.

‘This is Aileen de Marco,’ he heard her begin; then add, a few seconds later, ‘Gavin, you’re not one of my regular callers. What can I do for you?’

Although she had never asked him to, Bob preferred to leave her to make her business calls in private; he strolled outside, on to the terrace, and waited. Almost fifteen minutes later, she came out to rejoin him. Her expression was troubled.

‘What’s set my Lord Advocate’s wig spinning?’ he asked her.

‘You have, or at least your force has. Gavin Johnson’s new in the job, even newer than I am in mine, so he’s anxious not to stand on anyone’s toes. He’s got the Crown Agent up in arms. Apparently, there was a report on the Daniel Ballester murders, by your force, to the Crown Office. It led to the inquiry being closed. Now we’ve got this new killing in Edinburgh. It bears a strong similarity to some of the others and Neil McIlhenney’s insisting that the Agent. . What’s his name again?’

‘Dowley. Joe Dowley.’

‘That’s it. Neil wants the Crown Office to have a leak inquiry, and Dowley is having none of it.’

‘What do you mean, having none of it?’ Bob demanded.

‘I’m quoting Gavin Johnson.’

‘But we’re entitled to ask him to do that.’

‘Dowley says you’re not, that his office is at the top of the pyramid.’

‘I always knew that man was a fool.’

‘He’s an adamant fool, though. When Neil stood his ground, he phoned Sir James at home and, again according to Gavin, he was told to eff off.’

Bob winced. ‘He must have riled him: that’s not the chief’s style.’ He frowned. ‘I’ll bet that’s what’s behind it, this sudden decision of his to go. He’s had enough of intransigent idiots interrupting his private life. What’s Johnson doing about it? Why’s he bothering you?’

Aileen wrinkled her nose. ‘I think he’s a bit afraid of the Crown Agent.’

‘I’m not,’ Bob growled. ‘I’ll deal with the bastard.’

‘Gavin’s afraid of that too. He’s asked me to persuade you to back off.’

‘Jesus! What did you tell him?’

‘That I couldn’t possibly interfere in an operational police matter.’

‘But, still, you’ve been caught in the middle of this. Aileen, I can’t tell Neil to walk away. Apart from the loss of face involved, the guy’s right. If we don’t eliminate the possibility of a leak within the Crown Office, we could have an investigation with a big hole in it. Dowley should never have got involved.’

‘But he did, and now he’s threatening to resign, publicly, if he’s overruled.’

‘And now,’ said Bob, ‘he’ll know that Johnson’s spoken to you, so if I persist and he does resign, he could well claim that by staying out of it, you took my side against him: or, worse, that I told you to stay out of it. I can’t let any of that happen.’

‘We’re not going to let him win, though. Are we?’

He fell silent. He sat on a lounger and gazed into the pool until, finally, he shook his head. ‘No,’ he declared, ‘we’re not. Here’s what we’re going to do.’