Lethal Intent

Sixty-five

Bob Skinner had been on a guilt trip all weekend; as soon as he stepped inside Deep Sea World he was hit by another wave. Mark and James Andrew had been nagging him for a year and more to take them there, but he had always found an excuse for delaying the adventure. And even now, when the moment finally had come, there was, if not an ulterior motive, a secondary purpose to the family trip.

The aquarium itself was a fantastic experience. The boys were consumed by it, and Seonaid squealed with excitement as they made their way through the exhibits: the touching pool, where youngsters were given hands-on experience of fish, the interactive displays and, most impressive of all, the underwater safari, where visitors were conveyed on a moving belt inside the vast aquatic wildlife park itself.

They spent two hours there, before Bob announced that it was time to go for lemonade and biscuits and, in his case, a cappuccino.

The cafe was busy but he found a table, leaving Mark and James Andrew to watch their sister as he made selections for them. He had just returned and was sipping his coffee, when Jazz shouted, 'Hey, Dad, there's Uncle Andy.'

He turned, to see Andy and Karen Martin approaching, pushing the infant Danielle in her chair. 'Fancy seeing you here,' Andy exclaimed, with more than a hint of a laugh. Bob pulled up two more chairs, making sure that one of them was next to his own.

'What do you think of the aquarium?' Karen asked Mark, and the two of them embarked on a discussion of its high points and other merits.

'How are you doing?' Bob asked Andy, as they sat together.

'I've been getting an idea of the life and times of Tommy Murtagh. He's a creepy bastard, but we knew that' He took his friend step by step through the First Minister's meteoric career, from the shop floor to the power and trappings of high office, and through his family background.

'Brindsley Groves, eh?' Skinner mused as he finished.

'Have you heard of him?'

'I've heard of the firm, but not him: Dundee's a closed book as far as I'm concerned. The Courier, the Discovery, and that's all I know about it.'

'There's more to the city than that.'

'Maybe, but let's concentrate on Mr Groves. Have you met him?'

'Thanks to Rod Greatorix, I met him on Friday evening. Mrs Groves is Rod's sister.'

'Is that awkward for you?'

'No. They're not bosom pals.'

'What's he like?'

'He's like a lot of rich men, amiable as long as you know your place with him, but his kids didn't stick around long, so there must be another side to him. He's fifty-eight, so Rod said.'

'And he was banging Murtagh's mother, while she worked for him?'

'So the great Dundonian rumour mill has it.'

'Maybe more than the rumour mill.'

'What do you mean?' Martin asked, intrigued.

'Did you know that there's a Groves family trust in existence?'

'No, but it wouldn't surprise me. There has to be a hell of a lot of money there.'

'There is. Now guess who one of the beneficiaries is.'

The younger man's green eyes gleamed. 'The man himself?'

Skinner nodded. 'There's nothing illegal about it, in that it doesn't require to be declared on any public register, but it's a fact. We can't use the information in any way, because that would probably betray the source, but it begs a few more questions.'

'Damn right it does. It's time I took a closer look at Tommy Murtagh's antecedents… beyond the official biography.'