Fatal Last Words

Seventy-eight

Aileen de Marco looked at the pile of green folders that still sat in her in-tray, letters drafted for her signature by the Scottish civil service. Parliament had a lengthy summer recess, but the requirements of government were continuous. She was considering the text of a reply to a letter from a Conservative MSP, from Dumfries, seeking special compensation for a constituent, a mounted policeman who had been kicked by his horse, when her phone rang.

‘I’ve finally been able to place your call,’ Lena McElhone, her private secretary, advised her. ‘He’s just got back to his office. I like his new secretary,’ she said. ‘He sounds like a nice guy.’

‘He is,’ the First Minister told her. ‘And to save you asking, he’s straight and he’s single. Maybe the two of you should meet to compare notes about your bosses.’ She smiled as she waited for the call to be connected.

‘What have you been saying to Gerry Crossley?’ said Bob when he came on line. ‘He sounded more than a wee bit flustered when he put you through.’

‘Me? Nothing at all. How’s your first full day been? I’d have called you sooner but I’ve been tied up in meetings, then when I did try, you were out.’

‘I’ve been away. I had to take an unexpected trip with Neil; somebody had information he said was for our ears only.’

‘Who was it?’

‘Dražen Boras.’

‘Jesus!’

‘Wrong department, love, wrong name. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. I’ll be a while yet, though. I’ve called a general meeting about our various murder investigations, a brainstorming session.’›

‘Are you making progress?’

‘Seems like it. That’s what the meeting’s about; I want to pull the threads together.’

‘Is that how you plan to run things in CID from now on?’

‘I’m going to be hands on, sure, but this was Neil’s idea. He reckons I’m still the best detective on the force. . I’m not going to argue with him either. . and he wants my input.’

‘Good luck, then. I hope it helps. What do you want for supper when you do get home?’

‘Nothing much. I ate like a hog last night.’

‘OK, I’ll do something light, a salad perhaps.’

‘That’ll be fine. I’ll call you when I’m ready to leave.’

‘Use the mobile. I might not be home myself by then. I’ll see you, whenever.’ She made to hang up then stopped. ‘Oh,’ she exclaimed, ‘I almost forgot that I had a reason for calling you. You do remember we’re having guests for dinner tomorrow night, at the official residence, don’t you? Randy Mosley and Denzel Chandler.’

‘Of course,’ he replied, but only after a second’s delay that suggested he had not.

‘It’s still all right, isn’t it? I realise things have changed a bit since we made the arrangement. I’ll postpone it, if you want.’

‘No, not at all. We’ll all be ready for it by then. Randy’s having a hard week too, so it’ll be a welcome break for her. Just the four of us, is it?’

‘Yes, but I can add to the party. Alex, if you like. It’s a private affair, our expense, not on the hospitality budget, so I’ll be doing the cooking.’

‘Let me think about that. Meantime, my troops should have gathered by now. See you later.’

He hung up. Aileen was about to return to the matter of the unruly police horse, but as an afterthought, she buzzed her outer office. ‘Hey, what did you say to get Gerry Crossley flustered?’ she asked her private secretary. ‘Have you made a move on the guy already?’