Death's Door

Sixty-one

Bob Skinner stood in the living room of Hathaway House, staring at the dead, darkened face of Daniel Ballester. Then, with neither word nor warning, he swung upwards and punched it, as hard as he had ever hit anything or anyone in his life.

‘Hey!’ Les Cairns yelled, and lumbered forward as if to restrain him, only to stop short as Mario McGuire stepped into his path, his expression as ferocious as any he had ever seen.

‘Sorry,’ said Skinner, grimly, as the body swung round, and back again, then round once more, in semicircles. ‘Only I’m not. I wish I could have killed him myself, and that’s all there is to it.’

‘Still,’ the Englishman protested, ‘this is my patch.’

‘Let’s not get territorial about this.’ The voice came from the living-room doorway. The three men turned towards it, and saw Chief Constable Sir James Proud, in full uniform.

‘I’m very much inclined to do the same as Bob,’ he said, ‘but I’ll defer to him, since he’s much better at that sort of action than I am. I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to get here; I was out when Jack McGurk called to tell me what had happened. Maggie: what about Maggie? Has she been told yet?’

‘She knows,’ Skinner replied. ‘By a miserable coincidence, I was with her when Mario rang to tell me what had happened.’

‘How did she take it?’

‘Jimmy,’ the DCC snapped, ‘how the hell do you think she took it? She wouldn’t even let me say the words; she knew anyway, from my face. Eventually she asked if it had been quick. I told her that it was instantaneous.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘She’s still at home. I called Neil; he came over straight away and he’s with her now. So’s Paula. She arrived with Mario when he came by to join me. I sent for a doctor too, as a precaution.’

‘Of course. Let’s hope the shock doesn’t affect her pregnancy.’

‘God forbid.’

‘He doesn’t seem to be in a very forbidding mood this week,’ McGuire growled.

‘Bob,’ the chief began hesitantly, ‘it really was instantaneous, wasn’t it? He’s under a sheet through there.’

‘Yes, it must have been. If he’d taken the Kevlar helmet he was offered he’d probably have survived. The flak jacket he wore deflected most of the shrapnel from the grenade, but two large pieces, at least. . maybe there were others the doctor couldn’t see at a first examination. . penetrated his skull. He’d no chance. He must have been dead before he hit the floor.’

‘This swine here,’ Sir James pointed at Ballester’s body, ‘did he leave anything behind him?’

‘Apart from a booby-trapped door, rigged to take out the first person through it?’

‘A note?’

Skinner’s face twisted. ‘Oh, yes,’ he replied, ‘but not the usual sort. This guy’s high-tech. He left his on his laptop. Take a look: it’s still switched on. But don’t touch it: the local SOCOs are going to take it back to their lab to dust it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the coroner would have their balls if they didn’t, and so would I. They have to match the prints to the body for the inquest. Sorry, inquests: there will have to be one into Stevie’s death as well.’

‘I imagine so. Has anyone reported this to our procurator fiscal?’

‘Yes, Chief,’ said McGuire. ‘I called him before we left Edinburgh. He’s coming down to see for himself, but he lives in Fife, so it’ll be a while yet before he gets here. That’s why the bodies are still here.’

‘I’ll wait for him. You chaps should get back to Edinburgh to see how Maggie’s doing. She may even want to talk to you.’

‘We’ll do that,’ Skinner agreed. He turned to DCC Cairns. ‘Les, when do you plan to start the full-scale search of this place?’

‘Tomorrow morning, Bob. The light’s going fast and I’m not having my people stumbling around in the dark in case this so-and-so’s left us any more nasty surprises.’

‘Absolutely not. If you have no objection I’d like to send down my chief technical officer, DI Dorward, and a couple of his people, to work with them. The findings here will be part of our report to the fiscal. That will have to be very thorough, so that the Crown Office can decide on how to proceed.’

‘What options will they have under Scots law?’

‘It could be they don’t have too many: our system’s a lot different from yours. Down here, your coroner will have full inquest hearings into Ballester’s suicide and Stevie’s murder. That should close your book. As for how we proceed, I’ll need to consult with the fiscal on that one.’

‘What does the note say?’ said Proud, moving towards the sideboard on which the laptop lay. He peered at the screen, then took a pair of reading glasses from a pocket in his uniform.

‘I can tell you, off by heart,’ Skinner murmured. ‘I’ve read it often enough since I got here. You’ll find that it says, “I, Daniel Ballester, confess to the executions of the two bitches who dumped me, of the lad who replaced me in Zrinka’s bed, and of nosy little Amy who got too close. I die as I lived, unloved, and I leave you with a parting gift to those who have the misfortune to find my body. My last message is the soldier’s salute, ‘Farewell and fuck you all’. I’m on my way, Zrinka.” Pretty comprehensive, you’ll agree, Jimmy.’

The chief was still staring at the screen. ‘Indeed,’ he replied.

‘I guess that was his motive after all,’ McGuire mused. ‘A murderous rage, flowing from rejection. Stevie was wrong.’

‘Was he?’

The chief superintendent looked back at Skinner and nodded. ‘He thought it was much more complicated than that. Deep down, even as he was going down that bank, gun in hand, I don’t think he really believed that Ballester was guilty. When he found out that he was, he was reckless, for the first and only time in his police career, and it cost him his life.’

‘And maybe not just his,’ Skinner whispered.

‘Sorry?’ Proud enquired.

‘Ah, nothing. Mario, let’s get back to Edinburgh; I’ll brief Dorward on the way, call in to see Maggie, then head for Charlotte Square. I promised Aileen I’d do that, whatever the hour. . after the dinner guests have gone, though. She was going to call it off, you know, that big dinner of hers, but I wouldn’t let her. The press office will have been busy, calling round everybody to tell them I wasn’t there after all, but I have a terrible feeling that my name will still be on tomorrow’s front pages.’

McGuire frowned, grief still written across his face. ‘I’ll need to brief the press tonight myself.’

‘No, fuck ’em,’ said Skinner, firmly. He looked at Cairns. ‘Les, maybe your people could issue a holding statement tonight, no victim names, usual excuse, next of kin to be informed. We’ll tell the whole sad story in the morning.’

‘Sure,’ the Englishman agreed.

‘We?’ the head of CID interjected.

‘Yes, I’ll do it with you. My sabbatical’s on hold, for the moment. I’ll tell Royston to set up the media meeting for midday. By that time, hopefully Les’s people will have turned up the last piece of the jigsaw.’

‘What’s that?’ the chief constable asked.

‘The gun, Jimmy; we still need to find the murder weapon to tie it all up formally. But tomorrow we will; there’s nothing surer, we will.’