Skinner's rules

24

‘No, Brian, we will not scale down the Royal Mile patrols, even though the Queen has gone. It’s what, only ten days since the last murders, it’s Friday night, and we don’t have an arrest yet.’ Mackie could see that his boss was adamant, and dropped the subject.

‘But I am having a couple of nights off. Your arm’s fine now. You can take charge on the streets.’

‘With respect, sir, I’m only a detective sergeant, and this is a big operation.’

Skinner smiled. He picked up a sealed white envelope from his desk and handed it to Mackie.

‘With respect, Brian, as of this moment you are promoted to Detective Inspector. That letter confirms it. Now I’m off to think about tackling Toshio Yobatu.’

It was 7.30 p.m. When he arrived at Stockbridge, Sarah was waiting for him, dressed casually, as usual. She was barefoot; a big, bright, loosely buttoned shirt hung down to her knees. She opened the door, grabbed him by the lapels, pulled him inside, and kissed him. ‘Here,’ said Skinner, gasping, ‘does everyone who rings your doorbell get this treatment?’

‘Only policemen and insurance salesmen.’

‘Milkmen too low-caste for you, are they?’ They kissed again, longer this time. Her body moulded with his; he felt himself stir as she rubbed her belly against him. ‘Hey!’ he murmured in weak protest. ‘I told Andy to get there for about 8.30.’

‘Alex’ll be home by now. She’ll look after him if we’re late.’

Sarah looked at him, her hazel eyes filled with what he recognised by now as her bedroom look.

‘You’ve had a hard week, Chief Superintendent. I can feel the tension in you. And that’s not good for a man of your years. Lucky for you that Doctor Sarah is on hand with her amazing device for the relief of stress.’ She stepped back from him and wriggled her shoulders. The loosely-buttoned shirt slipped from her shoulders, and floated gently down to settle at her feet.