Pray for the Dying

Twenty-Six

‘John, go easy on her, will you?’

‘Bob, I’m BBC. We don’t run big lurid headlines on our reports and we don’t editorialise on politicians. We just run what we’ve got on the record, and in this case that’s Aileen screaming at the Hatton bitch then storming out of the room. We can’t ignore that, because it’s there. STV have got it, and that means it’ll be on ITN national at lunchtime. Sky have got it and they won’t hold back. Plus I saw a couple of freelance cameras there, so it could even go international.’

‘Bugger,’ Skinner sighed. ‘And you’re the nice guys, aren’t you?’

‘Exactly,’ John Fox said. ‘You know what Hatton will do with it, and the rest of the tabloids. Thing is, Bob, it’s not just Aileen that’s been caught up in it.’

‘Don’t I know it. I was never there for her, she said.’

‘Do you want to react to that?’

‘To the media in general, no, because anything I say will be used in evidence against either Aileen or me. To you, because I trust you or we wouldn’t be speaking right now, I’ll say I’m sorry she feels that way, and I’ll add that lack of communication is one of the factors behind our separation.’ He paused, then added, ‘Hell, you can use this as well, on the record. I find it contemptible that she was goaded into her outburst after what she went through on Saturday night.’

‘I will use it too. How about Hatton calling you an authoritarian bully?’

Skinner laughed. ‘Jesus, John, I’m the acting chief constable of the UK’s second biggest police force. If that doesn’t make me an authority figure, I don’t know what would. As for me being a bully, I appreciate Alf Old putting her straight, and I hope that others will as well.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Fox told him. ‘It’s a wee bit close to defamation, so most sensible editors. . including Hatton’s. . won’t repeat it. I was only covering my back by asking you about it. Besides, no tabloid editor in his right mind’s going to want to fall out with you.’ He laughed. ‘Not that that implies you’re a bully, mind.’ He was silent for a second or two. ‘Can I ask you something else?’ he murmured.

‘Sure.’

‘I told you what she said about Max Allan. Do you want to counter it?’

‘I’d like to, but I can’t, because it’s true. Max was first into the hall when the emergency lighting came on. He could see very little, and at first he thought it was Paula Viareggio who’d been shot, not Toni. Max has known Paula since she was a kid; he and his wife live closer to Edinburgh than Glasgow and so they do nearly all their shopping there. They’ve been customers of the Viareggio delicatessen chain for twenty years, since the days when Paula worked behind the counter.

‘He thought that was her on the floor, and he just buckled. The poor guy’s career’s probably at an end, and an ignominious one at that, thanks to Aileen. The next time I speak to her she and I are going to have very serious words about it. You can be sure of that.’

‘I agree,’ the journalist murmured. ‘True or not, it was well out of order. But Bob, off the record this time, why did she put herself up there to be shot at? Sorry, that was an unfortunate choice of words in the circumstances.’

‘Maybe but I know what you mean. My informed guess would be that her reasons were purely political.’

‘Did you know about Labour supporting unification?’

‘Of course I did. This is very much between us, chum, but it was the last straw as far as our marriage was concerned.’

‘I guessed as much. There’s a piece on the Saltire website that nobody’s noticed yet. It was blown out of the printed edition by the Field shooting, but it’s got your stamp all over it. Everybody knows that paper’s your house journal, with June Crampsey being a retired cop’s daughter.’

‘Mmm,’ Skinner murmured, ‘do they indeed? I’ll need to watch that, but I won’t lie to you about my input to that article; you’re right. I was a bit steamed up at the time. But if you’re going to have a girn about me playing favourites, don’t, because I’m doing it just now. Nobody else is getting past the switchboard here and I’m taking no other media calls anywhere else.’

‘I appreciate that,’ Fox chuckled. ‘In the spirit of our special relationship, is there anything else you’d like not to tell me? About the Field investigation, for example.’

‘Not a fucking word, mate; you’re not that special. However, you might like to call another chum of yours, the First Minister. I reckon Aileen will have put his nose mightily out of joint.’

‘Thanks for that, and the rest. Cheers.’

The chief was unfamiliar with the telephone console on his desk, but he had noticed a red light flashing during the last couple of minutes of his conversation with Fox. As he hung up he discovered what it was for as the bell sounded, almost instantly. He picked up the receiver, expecting to hear the switchboard operator, or Lowell Payne, but it was neither.

‘Yes,’ he began.

‘Bob,’ a male voice snapped back at him, ‘can’t you keep that bloody wife of yours under control?’

‘Hello, Clive,’ he replied. ‘Funny you should call. Your name just came up in conversation.’

‘I’m not surprised. Your ears must have been burning too. Do you know what Aileen’s done?’

‘Yes.’

‘When did you know?’

‘I first became aware of it about ten minutes ago. Clive,’ Skinner asked, ‘what the fuck are you on about? Haven’t you read any newspapers today?’

‘No I haven’t. I’m not in the office. I’ve spent the last thirty-six hours incommunicado, comforting my distraught wife. She’s under sedation, Bob. I’m still trying, but failing, to make her believe that I wasn’t the target. . although the truth is, I’m not a hundred per cent sure of that myself.

‘But more than that, it’s not just the thought of me with my brains on the floor that’s got to her, it’s the notion that if she had come with me, and not Toni, she’d have copped it. So you’ll see, Bob, reading the press hasn’t been at the top of my agenda. My political office has only just emailed me the unification press release Labour have put out.’

‘And that’s all they’ve sent you?’

‘That’s all.’

‘Then you should shake up all your press people, in the party and in government. Somebody should have told you that two hours ago my dear wife and I announced that we’ve split. They should also have told you to check out today’s Daily News. You’re going to have fun with that come next First Minister’s Questions at Holyrood, I promise you.’

He heard the First Minster draw a deep breath, then let it out slowly. ‘Then I apologise, Bob,’ he said, quietly. ‘The government people are supposed to brief me constantly on what’s happening in the media, partly to ensure that I don’t make any embarrassing phone calls like this one. I told them, firmly, to leave me alone, but when the troops are afraid to override your orders when necessary, that makes you a bad general.’

‘Or an authoritarian bully,’ Skinner murmured.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. You can tell Mrs Graham to calm down. We have absolute proof that Toni was the target. They were set up and waiting for her.’

‘Are you certain?’

Skinner snorted. ‘I appreciate that you’re a politician, but even you must know what “absolute” means.’

‘But how did they know she’d be there?’ the First Minister asked, sounding more than a little puzzled.

‘When did you invite her to accompany you?’

‘Two weeks ago.’

‘Yeah, well, one day later Toni posted the engagement on bloody Twitter, and on the Strathclyde force website. She set herself up.’

‘But who’d want to kill her? I know she was abrasive, but. .’

‘I’ve got a team of talented people trying to find that out,’ the chief replied, ‘and I imagine that right now they’re waiting in my assistant’s office.’

‘Then I won’t delay you further. Again, I’m sorry I went off at half cock.’

‘No worries. For what it’s worth, I reckon I know why Aileen broke ranks on unification. You might not realise it, if you’ve been cloistered since Saturday, but you’ve become something of a media hero, thanks to Joey Morocco’s eyewitness account. He’s seen a few things up close in the last couple of days, has our Joey. With the election coming up, Aileen couldn’t let that go uncountered. It’s the way she thinks.’

‘I suppose it is, and I might even understand it. It won’t do her any good though. I’ve seen our private polls: Labour will be crushed, and her career will be over.’

Bob laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it, Clive. She has a plan for every contingency. She’s like Gloria Gaynor: she will survive. Get on with you now. Go and give your wife the good news.’