Skinner's ghosts

67

'Fancy seeing you here,' Mcl henney grinned, as he stepped out of the passenger seat of Martin's car, opposite what had once been the Howgate Inn, a popular Midlothian watering place. 'Just for a minute there, I…'

'I thought I'd go for a drive,' replied Skinner, casual y forestal ing him. 'Something going on here?'

An attractive blonde woman, in her mid-forties, stood beside him.

Three other people, two more women and an elderly man, residents of the steading, the Sergeant guessed, were gathered a few yards away, with a uniformed constable. 'This is Mrs Christopher,' said the DCC as Martin approached, followed by Pam and Sammy Pye, from a second car. 'Your witness.'

'That's good,' nodded the Chief Superintendent. 'There are a few other questions I wanted to ask.'7

Skinner smiled. 'Mrs Christy The grey van's been around h Here for a couple of days, th it last on Friday night, sho

'"ye had a chat already. '1 or three weeks. hack. She saw e?'

Andy Martin frowned

'Mrs Christopher's Thursday morning to

The younger detfrom his pocket, and the photofitd the print. 'Cou

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Mrs Christ she said, n certain, bi. I could tj of the

'Fa

'somplice?' the solicitor suggested., is1iead, firmly, pursing his lips. 'The only three She pointed to Skinner. 'This gentleman's already asked me that.

The answer's stil no, though. I haven't.'

'Thanks anyway,' said the Head ofCID. 'Would you join the others now, please.'

As Mrs Christopher retreated he turned back to Skinner. 'How d'you think we should play this, sir?'

'It's your show, Andy,' the DCC replied.

'Not so as I'd noticed.'

Skinner grinned. 'Well. I did have a quick scout around.' He pointed along the twisting road which led out of the vil age. 'The track to the cottage is over there, but you're out of its sight until you're almost at the front door. The van's tucked away beyond it, but it's angled so that you can't make out its number, dammit.

'Behind the house there's a wee patch of woodland. The place backs right on to it, with hardly any garden. Some of the armed support is in there already. The rest are in the steading.'

He looked quizzical y at Martin. 'Why don't Neil and I make our way through the woods, and you and Sammy go straight up the track?'

'Why don't we cal in the SAS?' asked Pye.

'Because there is at least one kid in there that we know of, Sam,'

Skinner replied. 'The SAS go in bloody. I don't want any child deafened by a stun grenade or shot by this man in a panic.'

'That's right,' said the Chief Superintendent. 'Let's be gentle about it. I'l just walk up and knock the front door, with you two out the back, and al that firepower in the woods and across the field.'

Skinner nodded. 'You'd better advise the armed support commander.

If he comes out shooting, or even showing a gun, he goes down.' He grimaced. 'I wish we knew just a wee bit more about the situation, but with what we've got, the balance of the risk says we do it now.'

They split into the agreed pairs. Skinner led Mcl henney into the wood, finding a rough path through the trees, trodden down by the armed support officers. A hundred yards or so into the plantation they came upon the four-strong unit, well hidden in the gloom from anyone looking from the bright afternoon outside.

'Seen any movement inside the house?' the DCC asked a uniformed sergeant. The man looked at him, clearly surprised by his presence.

'Only once, sir. A man came into the kitchen, then went out again carrying a can of Pepsi. He was a dead ringer for the photofit.'

The radio which Mcllhenney was carrying crackled into life.

'We're in position.' Martin's voice sounded whispered. Skinner and his sergeant stepped across the low wire fence into the cottage's small garden. 'Ready,' said Mcllhenney.

A few seconds later, they heard a loud knock. A few seconds after that, the back door swung open, fast, and a man rushed out: a tall, slim fair-haired man.

His mouth opened in surprise as he caught sight of the two detectives, then panic showed in his eyes at the sight of the pistol in Mcl henney's hand. He started to run for the corner of the house, towards the grey van, the bonnet of which was just visible. He had taken two steps when Skinner hit him, slamming into him with a rugby tackle and bearing him to the ground. Roughly, the DCC rol ed the man on to his face and drove a knee into the smal of his back, as he reached for his wrists, to secure them.

The girl's voice took him by surprise. 'What are you doing to my Daddy?' she cried.