Skinner's ghosts

31

The press benches in Edinburgh's ornate Victorian council chamber had never been more ful for a meeting of the Joint Police Board, made up of elected members of the local authorities whose areas the force covered.

The Chair of the Board, MarciaTopham, a Labour council or from Midlothian, was regarded by Sir James Proud as a moderate, and someone with whom he could work. Or as Bob Skinner often put it in private, someone whom he could twist round his little finger.

Today was different. In the ante-room, outside the chamber, the Chief Constable saw that Council or Topham looked tense and nervous. As he had anticipated. Skinner's request to address the meeting at the close of the discussion had been rejected, after consultation by the Chair with her senior colleagues.

'Like I said,' the DCC had growled. 'She's had her orders.'

A buzz went round the press gallery as the members and officials filed into the chamber, and as they saw that Bob Skinner was not in attendance. Marcia Topham frowned in their direction, but her disapproval was ignored.

She cal ed the meeting to order quickly, pounding on the old mahogany desk with her gavel. 'Ladies, gentlemen,' she said loudly, to mask the tremor in her voice. 'Let us proceed.'

She looked around the members, and nodded to the Chief Constable, who was seated in the well of the chamber, alongside the Board's solicitor. 'Item One,' she announced.

Bob Skinner grudged every minute of the time that he was forced, occasionally, to spend at Board meetings. It was an advisory body, but under the previous administration it had become a vehicle for political speeches. However, on the basis of a few months' evidence, the change of government had seen little change in the nature of the meetings.

'It stil sounds the same, Jimmy,' Skinner had grumbled. 'Different bloody axes being ground, that's al.'

The Chief Constable on the other hand, appreciated the Board. He focused on its advisory status, deciding arbitrarily which parts of its advice he would reject, and which he would accept. He understood too that the police service benefited from the lack of significant 108

"w political interference with its work, and had no intention of rocking that particular boat.

'Indulge them, Bob,' he always advised his deputy. 'Let them have their say, then let them go away home. They don't have any weight, so they can't throw it about.'

Today, though, the normally benign Chief was in no mood to be conciliatory.

The listed items on the agenda were eliminated with unprecedented speed, until, fifty minutes after opening the meeting, Councillor Topham announced: 'We now come to other business. I am advised of a motion by Councillor Agnes Maley, of Edinburgh City Council.'

Sir James looked around as Councillor Maley rose to her feet. He knew her well: a self-confessed enemy of the police service, she owed her position of power within her party to her ability to mobilise the enlarged group of women members in her support. As she stood, short, squat and denim-clad, she was flanked by five other colleagues.

'Thank you, Chair,' she began, but had gone no further before the Chief Constable thrust himself to his feet.

'If you will excuse me, Councillor Maley,' he boomed. He glowered at the Chair. 'Council or Topham, I had assumed that you would instruct that this motion, if it has to be heard at al, should be stated without the press and public being present. Standing orders allow you to declare that sensitive items be discussed in private. I have to insist that be the case here.'

Marcia Topham stared at the silver-haired policeman. This was not kind, benign 'Cal me Jimmy' Proud. This was someone she had never seen before, fierce, bristling, formidable and on battle bent.

For several seconds her mouth formed sounds, but none emerged.

She was beaten to it by a shout from the left. 'I protest, Chair. The Chief Constable's right out of order. He's responsible to this meeting.

He doesn't run it.'

Sir James rounded on Agnes Maley. 'As usual, Councillor, you're mistaken when it comes to police matters. I am not responsible to this Board. It advises me. Now I am advising it that it is not appropriate for the private business of a senior serving officer – any serving officer, for that matter – to be discussed in public session.'

He looked back towards Council or Topham. 'Madam Chair, you may wish to consult your solicitor.'

Grateful for the escape route, Marcia Topham nodded. 'Mr Wanless,' she asked, quickly. 'What's your guidance?'

The solicitor took a deep breath and looked up at her. 'The Chief Constable is quite right: you have the power to order this matter heard in private. However, you do not have an obligation in this case.'

A murmur of satisfaction sped along the benches behind Proud.

'That said,' the solicitor went on, his voice rising in emphasis, 'I am 109 bound to remind you that no form of privilege attaches to this body.

Should anything be said in discussion which was held subsequently to be defamatory of Mr Skinner, or Detective Sergeant Masters, then the Court would undoubtedly find that defamation to have been aggravated by a decision by you to hold the debate in public. This would be in addition to the personal responsibility for such defamation which would probably attach to you.

The decision is yours, Madam Chair.'

Councillor Topham's gaze settled on the lawyer, as if she was trapped by the headlights of an oncoming car. At last she glanced helplessly across towards Councillor Maley. 'Will the press and public please leave,' she said.

Before her, on the members' benches and in the public gallery, cries of protest rang out. However, with council attendants and two police constables acting as ushers, the room was cleared relatively quickly.

'Very good,' said the Chair, as the door closed on the last journalist.

'Now, Councillor Maley, do you wish to proceed?'

'One moment more, please!' Proud's voice boomed out even more loudly. 'Before the lady begins, I have something else to say.'

For a moment. Council or Topham looked as if she would use her gavel to intervene, but the Chief froze her with a glare and a dismissive wave of his hand.

'I want it recorded in the minutes of this meeting that I believe that it is absolutely disgraceful for this motion to be entertained. It relates entirely to matters which are within Mr Skinner's private life, and which are no business of this Board in any way.

'I believe that the proposer and seconder are motivated by malice against the police in general, which has been evident before at meetings of this Board. They have seized on the disgraceful publicity attaching to Mr Skinner's private life as a means of damaging my service, even if it means the further public humiliation of one of its finest officers.

'The days in which personal relationships between serving police officers were forbidden are long gone, as the proposer and seconder, and their supporters, know well. Indeed were I to propose their reintroduction, they would be the first on their feet in protest.'

He turned and looked at the benches behind him. 'On a personal level, rather than professionally, I do not believe that by today's standards Mr Skinner and Miss Masters are wrongdoers. By my own standards perhaps, but the world is changing.' He stared hard at Agnes Maley. 'I am prepared to bet you,' he said, 'that among the members of this Board, there must be at least one who is living in what some might call sin, with a person separated not yet divorced.' The councillor's face flushed beetroot red.

Sir James turned back to the Chair. 'I am no great Bible scholar,' he said, 'but I do remember well the story of the woman taken in adultery.

'I will say just this. Before anyone casts the first stone at Bob Skinner, they should remember that no-one in this room is in a better position than me to know which of you is without sin. And before this matter is put to a vote, Councillor Maley and her friends would do well to bear that in mind.

'Now I wil leave you to your discussions.' He picked up his papers and strode from the chamber.