Peter Robinson - Watching the Dark

DC Geraldine Masterson scribbled something down on her pad. ‘Yes, sir.’

Banks turned to Winsome. ‘I think in the meantime you and I should get back to St Peter’s and see if we can wrap up there,’ he said. ‘The rest of you all have your actions and TIEs to be getting on with. Doug, I want you here when the list of Bill Quinn’s possible old enemies and his phone records arrive, and I want you to head the examination. Coordinate with DI Ken Blackstone at Millgarth. Ken mentioned a bloke called Corrigan. Warren Corrigan. He’s got his finger in a few pies, all of them nasty, but basically he’s a loan shark. Ask around. See if he has any sort of presence in these parts. We want to know who Quinn has been talking to lately, and who’s been talking to him. Keep an open mind about the old cases. Something might leap out at you, but you can’t rely on that. You can probably forget the junkies and alcoholic wife-beaters — they probably wouldn’t even remember making threats, let alone have what it takes to stalk and kill someone with a crossbow — but give them all at least a passing glance. Anything that strikes you as odd, interesting, possible, make a note of it. Gerry here will give you a hand in her spare time. If she has any.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Doug glanced over at DC Masterson, who tapped the end of her pencil on her notepad.

‘And we also need to find out if Bill Quinn had ever worked with or had any close connection with anyone staying at St Peter’s. Or if anyone there had a connection with someone he put away, someone who threatened him, had a grudge. You might as well include the staff, too. I realise this all adds up to casting a very wide net indeed, but we’ve either got to rule all these things out, or find a link to Quinn’s murder somewhere, if we’re to narrow it down to a viable line of inquiry. I shouldn’t have to remind you that Bill Quinn was one of our own and that we’ll be under extreme scrutiny on this. Clear?’

Everyone nodded, glum expressions on their faces. They knew what it meant: say goodbye to the weekend, and all leave is cancelled.

‘Sir?’ said Winsome.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I’ve just been thinking. The choice of weapon, the murder in the woods... Could we be looking for someone with hunting experience? Hunting and tracking? We know that Quinn himself was into outdoors stuff — angling and gardening, specifically — so he might have known people who were hunters, who belonged to the same clubs or societies he did.’

‘That’s a good point, Winsome,’ said Banks. ‘Doug and Gerry, you should keep an eye open for anything like that, too. Any hunters, flag them. Check on Quinn’s friends outside the force, too, if he had any, and any organisations he belonged to. Also,’ Banks went on, ‘one of you will need to check sources for crossbows and bolts, including online. And I want someone to search for any similar crimes, anything involving a crossbow, in fact, over, say, the past five years. OK?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said DC Wilson.

Before the meeting broke up, the door opened and Area Commander Gervaise walked in with another woman behind her. Late thirties or early forties, Banks guessed, a tall attractive blonde, elegant suit, the skirt ending just above her knees, black tights — no Primark for her — a trim, lithe figure with gentle curves, a smattering of freckles across her small nose, intelligent green eyes, regal bearing. Her blonde tresses were piled and coiled on top, giving the impression of casual simplicity, though Banks guessed the haircut was expensive and the arrangement took a lot of time. She seemed a little nervous, he thought.

‘If you’d all just hang on for a minute,’ Gervaise said, avoiding Banks’s gaze, ‘I’d like to introduce Inspector Joanna Passero. Joanna is from Professional Standards, and she’ll be working with you all very closely on this case.’

‘The rat squad,’ Banks muttered.

Gervaise raised an eyebrow. ‘What was that?’

‘Nothing,’ said Banks. ‘Welcome to the squad. Pleased to meet you, Inspector Passero.’

‘Likewise,’ said Inspector Passero. ‘Call me Joanna.’ Even in those few words, Banks thought he noticed a hint of a Scottish accent, which went quite against her Italian surname, as did her blonde good looks. Still, he thought, remembering Bill Forsyth’s Comfort and Joy , with its Glasgow ice-cream wars, a lot of Italians had settled in Scotland over the years.

‘In my office, Alan,’ said Gervaise. ‘The rest of you can get back to work.’

Banks gestured for Winsome to wait for him and followed Gervaise and Joanna Passero down the corridor.

The three of them made themselves comfortable around Gervaise’s circular glass table and drank coffee made from Gervaise’s machine. Banks felt lucky; it was his second cup in two days. On the other hand, when he realised why Inspector Joanna Passero was present, he didn’t feel so lucky after all. She crossed her long, black-stockinged legs and leaned back with the mug in her hand as if she were at her book club, or a Women’s Institute coffee morning. A half smile played around her full pink lips. Perhaps she was enjoying Banks’s obvious discomfort, he thought, or perhaps she had noticed his stolen glances at the swell of her breasts under the finely tailored jacket, or the shapely ankle of her crossed leg.

There was a Nordic aspect to her beauty, despite her Italian surname and Scottish accent. All that lovely blonde coolness, Banks thought. Alfred Hitchcock would have loved her. And tied twenty birds to her clothes with long nylon threads.

‘You could have given me some warning,’ Banks said to Gervaise. ‘You made me look a right twat back there at the briefing.’

‘That wasn’t my intention,’ said Gervaise. ‘The decision’s just been made. I’ve been at a breakfast meeting with ACC McLaughlin and the Chief Constable over at County HQ, and we are all agreed that, given the circumstances of DI Bill Quinn’s murder, and what was discovered in his room, we need a representative from Professional Standards on board. ACC McLaughlin suggested Joanna, who is relatively new to the county, but comes along with an excellent pedigree from Thames Valley. I brought her back here with me. I’m sure she’ll be a valuable addition to the team.’

‘Valuable in what way, ma’am?’ Banks asked.

‘I’ve told you, less of the ma’am. We can be informal in here.’

‘Valuable in what way?’

Gervaise deferred to Inspector Passero. ‘Joanna?’

Joanna Passero held Banks’s gaze as she leaned forward and set her coffee mug down on the table. There was a pink lipstick stain on the rim. Banks realised that he was being outflanked by two strong women, one above him in rank, and the other with a cool demeanour and any number of little feminine wiles up her sleeve. He also realised that there was probably nothing he could do about any of it. Once Gervaise’s mind was made up, that was it, and she had the backing of ACC McLaughlin and the Chief Constable. This meeting was a mere formality, a courtesy, perhaps. Banks wasn’t going to get Joanna Passero sent back to Newby Wiske or Thames Valley, no matter how much he might try. About the only thing he could hope to get out of this meeting was to escape with his dignity intact and maybe gain a few minor concessions. But he wasn’t going to give up without a struggle. He listened as Joanna Passero spoke in her lilting Edinburgh accent.

‘I’m sure you’ll agree with me,’ she began, ‘that in the light of the compromising photographs you found in DI Quinn’s possession, implicating him in the possible corruption of a minor, not to say grave dereliction of duty, this investigation goes somewhat beyond the norm.’

‘There’s no evidence that the girl was a minor.’