Death's Door

Fifty

‘Don’t you think you should have waited till your DI got back, Sergeant, and discussed this with him?’

‘I have thought about it,’ said Ray Wilding, ‘and decided that this can’t wait any longer. The last time I spoke to Stevie he was at a crime scene, where he and Griff Montell had just tripped over our third murder victim in four days. He told me that once that was secure he was heading out to South Queensferry to make sure there wouldn’t be any more. This thing’s come up since then, and it needs looking into. When he does get back, he’s going to want to hear the answer, not the question.’

‘I suppose so,’ Dottie Shannon conceded. ‘But do you know what you’re asking me to do here?’

‘Yes, I’m asking you to use your channels to find out why some guy from the Home Office is second-guessing our investigation.’

‘What makes you think I’ve got contacts who can do that?’

‘If you don’t, you’ll know someone who has.’

‘You CID guys have inflated ideas about the importance of Special Branch. But leave it with me and I’ll try. What was the man’s name, the guy who’s been making these enquiries?’

‘Patrick Dailey. He’s in the immigration section.’

‘He’s way off his territory, in that case. I’ll get back to you or Stevie. Let him know about this when you do hear from him.’

‘Of course. I don’t know where this might lead, Inspector. I just know that it needs to be looked at, ASAP.’

‘You lot are like buses, aren’t you?’ Shannon hung up on a puzzled detective sergeant.

In fact, she did have contacts who could get things done. Chief among them was Bob Skinner, but he was on leave. When Steele had asked for her help earlier, she had almost interrupted his sabbatical, but had decided against it. Instead, she had considered playing it by the book and going to Brian Mackie, but that might have led to a discussion about her late-night confrontation with Montell, something she did not want to get into with the new ACC, a man she barely knew, for all her years of service.

Eventually she had decided to strike out on her own. When she thought about it, she was certain of what Skinner would have told her to do; and so she had called the person she had met with him, on their secret secondment to London almost half a year earlier, even though it did mean going to the top of the tree.

She had feared that she might have difficulty getting through, and so she was surprised when her call was accepted almost immediately.

‘Hello, Dottie.’ To her relief, Amanda Dennis’s tone had been friendly. ‘I’ve been hearing things about you.’

This time, after the conversation with Wilding had ended, she hesitated for a while. ‘You’re pushing your luck, Shannon,’ she murmured. But finally she snatched up the phone and called the security service number once more.

This time she had to wait a little longer before being connected; when she was put through, the acting director general of MI5 sounded a little less patient. ‘Has nobody been back to you yet, Dottie?’ she said. ‘I’ve put your request in motion, but finding a match on our database for a painting rather than a photograph might take a little time, if we can do it at all, that is.’

‘I appreciate that, Mrs Dennis,’ she replied, ‘but that’s not why I’m calling. As I’ve just said to someone, my requests from my colleagues are like buses: none for ages, then two at a time.

‘The man you’re trying to match for us was the subject of a fruitless search by the Passport Service yesterday, as I’ve told you. Today someone from the Home Office immigration section has been on to them making exactly the same request.’

‘Oh?’ Shannon could almost see Dennis sitting more stiffly in her chair. ‘On what grounds?’

‘He didn’t have any. When the passport-service person challenged him he tried a bit of bluster, then backed off. Are we overreacting here? Could the Home Office have had a legitimate reason for following up on Padstow, just on the basis of the press reports of our announcement and the release of the image?’

‘Hardly. If they had an interest in him, I’d have expected them either to contact you direct, and pool resources, or if there were security implications, to come to us, as you did earlier. What’s his name?’

‘Patrick Dailey. Apparently he’s ex-DTI, and hasn’t been there long.’

‘Nor will he be much longer, unless he has a very good story to tell. Thanks, Dottie; you were right to bring this to me. I’ll deal with this myself. The Home Office immigration section is unbelievably sensitive. We can’t afford to have anyone there who’s out of line.’

‘Will you let me know the outcome?’

‘Only if it’s necessary. You’ve seen how we can operate. You might be better not to know.’