Fallen Gods

Forty-Seven

What did the barman say?" asked Andy Martin.

"Bar woman," Greatorix replied. "The guy behind the bar today wasn't on two weeks ago; he was sick and the licensee was away, so his … the licensee's… wife had to pull the pints as well as dish the grub.

She remembered Michael Skinner, but only because he was pissed."

"What about the man he was with?"

"The only thing she could say for certain was that he wasn't a regular, but she didn't think she'd ever seen him before. She was harassed that day, she said, but she struck me as the sort that finds everything too much trouble. Her description wasn't any better than dAbo's, far as she could recall, probably because all her attention was on Mr. Skinner getting himself skunked."

"Did you show her the photograph?"

The head of CID smiled, with grim satisfaction. "The licensee wasn't too happy with me afterwards, but I did. She wasn't a hundred per cent, but she pretty well confirmed the identification. She said that he looked much the same two weeks ago, when his friend huck led him out of her pub."

"That's something, at least," Martin exclaimed. "In fact, apart from the identification, it's the first positive thing that's happened in this investigation. Bob's "Skipper" might have been a false lead, but we got a result out of it by accident."

"Maybe, but how do we take it forward?"

"I've got someone compiling a list of estate owners on our patch. Maybe we can pick the people off that who might fit the vague description we have for Michael Skinner's companion, source their photographs and show them to dAbo and your landlord. Maybe we'll even find one who answers to the name of Skipper."

"As Mr. Williamson doesn't, by the way," Greatorix told him. "My man dAbo, and the local uniforms who know the man, had never heard of that nickname. He's known up there as Cecil, and that's it. He must have left Skipper behind in Mother well."

"But Andy, can we justify this?" The head of CID looked his deputy chief in the eye. "I had a break-in to an office in Montrose last night; the safe was done and quite a bit of cash was taken. I've also got a drugs operation under way in Dundee. It's going to take manpower to pursue this Skinner thing, and for what? He died of natural causes.

Maybe he had his heart attack as a result of falling in the river, after wandering off while he was drunk. If we do find his pal, and he did dispose of the body, that's probably what he's going to claim.

"I have to prioritise; that's the way it is here. You're new here, so maybe you don't understand that yet, not fully at any rate. But if the chief constable was sitting in on this discussion, I know what he would say."

Martin sighed. He could have ordered Greatorix to proceed, and, if he had read a threat to take the matter to the chief, forbidden him to do so; but the last thing he wanted was an argument with a valued and experienced colleague… particularly when he knew the man was in the right.

"And so do I," he admitted. "Put it on the shelf, Rod, as far as CID is concerned. I'll brief the uniformed branch to ask around in the general area of Birnam and see if we can come up with other sightings of Michael and his mate, but that's as far as I'll take it.

"If Bob wants to crank it up when he gets back from the States, I'll won't stop him, but until then, let's just wind it down."