Lethal Intent

Eighty-eight

The Scottish Parliament building and its ever-spiralling cost had become an albatross hung round the neck of the restored legislature, but Aileen de Marco had refused to join the ranks of those who railed against it. She was fond of pointing out to the critics that many of the hotel casinos on the Strip in Las Vegas had cost much more, and that in England there were football stadia under construction which were in the same price bracket, or even more expensive.

As she reached the doorway to the chamber, her papers in her hand and Lena McElhone by her side, she felt serene. In the previous twenty-four hours her life had been stood on its head and her future changed. Against that background, she faced her biggest challenge, but she was ready for it.

As she looked into the impressive chamber in which the Parliament sat, Aileen became aware of a figure by her side. 'Ready to go?' Tommy Murtagh whispered.

She smiled down at him, his moustache and his chemically assisted hair, all the happier that she had chosen a pair of her highest heels. 'Never more so, First Minister,' she replied. 'I'm going to do you proud.' She saw him start, and knew that she had taken him aback.

She took her seat, looking around, noting once more all of the features of the fine modern hall, as Sir Stuart MacKinnon, the Presiding Officer, led the members through the business of the day, waiting patiently for her turn to be called. At last it came.

She made her way to the lectern from which ministers addressed the house, laid her folder down and took her notes and briefing from it. 'Mr Presiding Officer,' she began, in a strong clear voice, 'I come here today, as Justice Minister, to present a bill which will make certain changes to the way in which the police service is run in this country.' As she spoke, she saw a tall figure slide unnoticed into a seat in the public gallery. He was dressed in slacks, a black roll-neck sweater and a sheepskin-lined bomber jacket; his steel-grey hair was ruffled and he looked in need of a night's sleep.

'Members will know,' she continued, 'that I was fairly recently appointed to my present post. They will also be aware that parliamentary bills are not drafted overnight. Therefore while I am privileged to be laying this enactment before you, it would be ungracious of me to allow you to believe that I am its author.'

She picked up the speech, which the First Minister's office had prepared for her, and began to read from it. 'The legislation which is set before you will confer upon the First Minister certain rights. He will confirm every appointment at assistant, deputy and chief constable rank, and he will approve all short-lists for interview. In addition, he will have the power to intervene directly in the management of the police, and to impose sanctions. It should be made clear that these powers are sought as a means of safeguarding society against incompetence and excessive zeal, and against their consequences. Of course,' she focused on the paper in her hand, 'these powers are to be seen as benevolent. They will give the police a new degree of openness and a new degree of accountability, and they will be exercised responsibly and in the public interest.'

She laid the speech down, then lifted the printed bill and waved it. 'There you have it, all clear and succinct, a piece of legislation which has the support of our coalition partners, and I believe of the Scottish Socialist Party.' She looked towards the Presiding Officer. 'Incidentally, sir, may I take this opportunity to congratulate our partners on the appointment of one of their number to the new Cabinet post which was announced yesterday morning.'

As Aileen paused, a slight murmur swept through the chamber. 'Any new piece of legislation requires scrutiny,' she continued, 'and the administration which presents it is entitled to be questioned about it.'

She glanced at the Conservative benches. 'I am sure, for example, that the members opposite will express concern that the traditional apolitical position of the police could be compromised if they have to glance in the direction of Bute House before taking important strategic, or even operational decisions. For their part, the instigators of the bill will assure them that there is nothing to fear, that no First Minister would ever allow political or even personal considerations to influence his decisions. Others will suggest that these powers could be interpreted as allowing politicians to look into the heart of forces and to examine covertly the actions of individual officers. Such scaremongering is to be expected, and I will not take the time to refute it here. All I will do is to point out that what is proposed will not put chief constables and their senior colleagues under the scrutiny of politicians in general. No, these powers will be vested in the hands of one person; they cannot be delegated to another minister, not even to the holder of my own office.'

Aileen put both hands on the lectern, looked around the chamber, at Bob Skinner in the public gallery, then at the Presiding Officer. 'So, sir, there is really only one question to be considered, an almost rhetorical question, most people in this chamber would say. Is it conceivable that any First Minister would not exercise these powers impartially, impersonally, and without bias of any sort?'

She picked up a sheaf of paper from the desk in front of her. 'That is the question which I now propose to answer.'

The chamber, she noticed with satisfaction, had gone deadly quiet.