Skinner's Mission

72

‘How did you get on yesterday at Falkirk?’ he asked, as soon as she stepped into his office.

Something in his voice made Pam look at him across the rosewood desk. It was barely noticeable, but there was an edge of weariness to it. His eyes gazed back at her with their usual warmth, but deep down in their blue pools, and in the creases around them, she saw traces of pain.

‘Very well, boss,’ she said, forcing herself to be brisk. ‘It couldn’t have gone better. I saw the senior partner of Watson Forbes, a Mr Jenks. He said that he was approached three years ago by a woman calling herself Jacqueline Huish. She said that she had come into some money, and wanted him to set up a company for her so that she could invest it in property. There and then she gave him two hundred and ten thousand in cash.’

Skinner’s eyebrows rose. ‘She didn’t show him any ID?’ he asked.

‘No. Mr Jenks just accepted everything at face value, especially, it seems, the money. He admits that he made no attempt to check where it had come from. He went ahead as she instructed, bought a shelf company from a legal services firm and registered it, with Jacqueline Huish as sole director and secretary.

‘She came back, gave him a list of half a dozen properties she had looked at, and told him to buy any three of them, within budget. He did, completed the conveyancing, and gave her a fee note. She settled it from the money that was left, and took the balance away.

‘I did a check with the Edinburgh City Finance Department. The Council Tax on the three properties has always been paid in cash. The taxpayer for each is listed simply as Thirty-First Nominees, of the Rankeillor Street address.

‘Mr Jenks never saw Jacqueline Huish again . . . until I showed him a photograph of Carole Charles, that Alan Royston got for me from the Evening News. Then he nearly fell out of his chair.’

Skinner beamed at her. ‘That’s excellent,’ he said. ‘The Fiscal said he’d agree to search warrants if I could satisfy him that Carole Charles and Jacqueline Huish were one and the same person. I was a bit concerned about that, but you’ve cracked it. Good work, Sarge.’

She flushed, and smiled. ‘It was just luck.’

‘No. Having the nous to show him the photograph wasn’t luck. That was good police procedure. Right, I’ll speak to Davie Pettigrew and secure those search warrants. You call McIlhenney and have him here at two thirty. Don’t tell him what it’s about and tell him to say nothing to anyone else.’

She looked at him, puzzled. ‘McIlhenney?’

‘Of course. Deputy Chief Constables don’t go kicking doors in as a rule, and I wouldn’t ask you to do it.’

‘Glad about that!’ She stood up, but paused, and her grin left her. ‘How did you get on last night? Or shouldn’t I ask?’

He motioned her back to her seat and leaned across the desk. ‘Pam, you’re a friend as well as a PA,’ he said quietly, looking deep into her eyes. ‘You have a perfect right to ask, not just personally, but professionally too. In that respect, I can tell you that Skinner’s Mission is accomplished. I know who tried to kill me, and why.

‘Very soon I’ll settle that account. But first, there are some other ducks that have to be got into a row.’

He paused. ‘Personally, my life is taking a new turning. I’ll explain it all to you once the smoke clears. All I’ll tell you now is that last night we had an exorcism at the haunted house.’

Her frown deepened, so dramatically that he laughed. ‘That’s whetted your appetite, I can see. I want you to do something for me now that’ll puzzle you even more. I want you to go to personnel and pull a complete service record file for me.’

‘Right away. Whose?’

His smile vanished. ‘Robert Morgan Skinner. Deputy Chief Constable.’