Skinner's Mission

10

Skinner thought that he could catch traces of Pamela Masters’ perfume hanging in the air a good ten minutes after his office door had closed behind her.

After she had left he had buzzed Ruth and had told her to make arrangements for her transfer from Haddington CID to his staff. Next he had dictated memoranda for typing next day to Andy Martin, and to Dave Donaldson, as line commander, to advise them of his decision.

He had just finished his memo to Donaldson, and had turned his attention back to his paperwork when he was interrupted by Ruth, on the intercom. ‘Sorry, sir, but you asked me to call you whenever the Chief got back.’

Sir James Proud had barely settled behind his desk when Skinner rapped on his door and slipped into the room. ‘Yes Bob,’ he said, as ingenuously as he could, ‘what can I do for you?’

The DCC frowned down at him. ‘You can continue our conversation of this morning. I’m your second in command, yet you let slip that you had discussed my trip to America with someone before deciding to send me. If it was my other boss, the Secretary of State, that’s understandable. If it was another Chief Constable, say Jock Govan, fair enough. Now if it was Jim Elder or Andy Martin, while I could live with that, I’d feel like chinning them for not mentioning it to me afterwards.’ He paused.

‘No, no, Bob,’ said the Chief hurriedly. ‘Don’t say anything to Jim or Andy!’

Skinner looked at him, curiously. ‘What’s going on here? Why are you on the defensive about this?’

Proud Jimmy fidgeted behind his desk. ‘D’you remember? ’ said his grim-faced Deputy. ‘I said “If you want me to go on this thing, you’ll have to order me.” And you said “So be it.” Now it seems that you had set it up with someone else.

‘I want to know who that was. No, I demand to know who it was.’

The Chief swung round, in his swivel chair, shaking his silver head as he gazed out of the window across the force playing field.

‘Oh dear,’ he muttered. ‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.’