Quintin Jardine - Stay of Execution

The Italian answered in seconds. ‘ Sì .’

‘English, please, Gio; it’s Bob Skinner. I need you to get something for me. I know the Vatican maintains an official biography of the Pope, but is it exhaustive?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Sorry; is it absolutely detailed? Does it cover every step of his career in the priesthood?’

‘They have a long version, Bob, and a short version. I’ll get you the long one. When do you need it?’

‘First thing tomorrow, my office. Oh, and Gio, do you have a number for His Holiness’s private secretary?’

‘Father Collins? He’s with me now. Hold on.’ There was a silence as he handed his phone over.

‘Mr Skinner,’ said the young Scots voice, ‘what can I do for you?’

‘How often do you speak to the Pope?’

‘Every day, even when I’m away on a mission like this: I have to call him this evening.’

‘When you do, will you ask him a question for me?’

He heard Angelo Collins hesitate. ‘I’m not sure. One does not interrogate the Holy Father.’

‘I know, but it’s a simple question. Does the name Auguste Malou mean anything to him? That’s all. It’s necessary, I assure you.’

‘I think I can ask him that. Can you repeat it?’

Skinner did as he asked, then folded his phone and put it away. ‘Let’s hope I get more out of that than I did out of the bloody Belgians.’

Something was disturbing the happiness that had enveloped Stevie Steele like a cloud since the previous weekend. It was nothing to do with his home life; he was convinced that getting together with Maggie was the best thing he had ever done. The night before, she had told him that he had liberated her; he had replied that all he had done was pull the stopper and let the genie out of its bottle.

He could still feel her warmth beside him, and hear her laugh in the darkness. ‘In that case, you’d better put it back, so it’s stuck out here for ever.’

No, the disturbance in his karma was purely professional. There was something about the Aurelia Middlemass business that was not yet complete, a question unanswered, because it had not yet formed within him, but one that was lurking there nonetheless.

Officers of his rank had perks; one of his was a computer, with an Internet link. He switched it on and waited while it went online, then entered two words into a search engine. A minute later he had a telephone number for the Dubai Police Department. He called it and identified himself; the operator spoke English, as he had assumed would be the case. He asked for the Traffic section, and found another English speaker on its switchboard.

‘May I speak to your senior officer on duty, please?’ he asked, then waited.

‘Hello, this is Captain Sharif. How can I help you?’

‘Good afternoon. I’m Inspector Steele, CID in Edinburgh, Scotland. I’m working on an investigation here and a name’s come up. She was an employee in a Dubai bank and she was a victim in a fatal car accident at the beginning of last year. Aurelia Middlemass, South African.’

‘Excuse me, that name again, please?’

‘Aurelia Middlemass.’

‘I cannot help you on that, Inspector Steele, I am afraid. This department did not investigate that incident. It was handled by someone else.’

‘Can you transfer me to that section, please?’

For a few moments, only light static could be heard, the unmistakable sound of a man considering something very carefully. ‘I do not think so. In the circumstances, I believe it would be better if they called you back.’

‘Sure.’ Steele understood that his identity was being checked; he gave the Torphichen Place switchboard number rather than his direct line. He hung up, and waited, and waited, and. .

It was almost half an hour before the phone rang. When it did, he snatched it up. ‘Yes?’ he snapped.

‘Ouch!’ Maggie exclaimed. ‘Who’s been rattling your cage, Inspector?’

‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting for a call and I’m beginning to think I’ve been pissed about.’

‘Will it keep you late tonight?’

‘I hope not. Why?’

‘I just thought we might do something nice and domestic. Like a food shop.’

He could see her face in his mind’s eye, and he smiled. ‘My favourite hobby. How did you guess? As an alternative, why don’t we go along to Fort Kinnaird, grab a pizza or something Mexican, then go to a movie?’

‘I’ll buy that. Then we can do the food shop afterwards. Asda’s open twenty-four hours, remember.’

‘Okay. By the way, did you have a chance to go down to see Mario today?’

‘No,’ Maggie replied. ‘It wouldn’t have been a good time. They were expecting Americans. I’ll try to do it tomorrow. See you later.’

Suddenly, he was aware of George Regan approaching. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he murmured, and hung up.

‘Good,’ said the sergeant. ‘The switchboard’s got a soldier on hold for you.’

Barely a second later, the phone rang again. He picked it up. ‘Call for you, sir.’

‘Inspector Steele?’ The voice at the other end was deep, and precise. ‘I am Brigadier General Hanif Aqtab. I am assistant chief of police in Dubai, in charge of the Criminal Investigation section. Your call to our Transport department has been referred to me.’

‘May I ask why, sir?’

‘Because of the name you mentioned, Miss Middlemass, the South African lady. She did indeed die here in a motor-car incident, but I am curious. Why do you ask about her?’

‘I’m investigating a fraud, General, from a bank here in Scotland. The principal suspect is an employee of that bank, and she used the name Aurelia Middlemass. I’ve seen her file and her curriculum vitae, and all the details match the woman who was killed in your country. The suspect here appears to have assumed her identity and tricked the Scottish Farmers Bank into giving her a senior position. Unfortunately she has absconded.’

‘She has what?’

‘I’m sorry. She’s disappeared. We’re trying to trace her, but without success. In view of the identity she stole, I’m going on the assumption that she has a connection with Dubai.’

‘Reasonable,’ the General conceded. ‘Do you have a photograph of this woman?’

‘Yes, I do. She had a security pass at the bank; that vanished with her, but they have a duplicate of her mugshot. I’ll have it scanned and sent to you as an e-mail attachment. I took your central address from your website.’

‘Thorough, Inspector. Use the prefix “genaqtab”: one word.’ He spelled it out.

‘Thanks. But may I ask, sir, if this was a vehicle accident, how did you become involved in its investigation?’

‘Because of the other victim. The unfortunate Miss Middlemass’s death was what our allies are fond of calling, these days, collateral damage. Tell me, Inspector, this suspect of yours, does she have an associate, a partner, someone close to her?’

‘A husband, in fact. He’s gone too.’

‘What do you know of him?’

‘He’s an academic chemist, doing a doctorate.’

‘And his nationality?’

‘He claimed to be Spanish, but she claimed to be Aurelia Middlemass, so who knows?’

‘I see.’ He heard the general’s breathing for a few moments; nothing else. ‘Inspector, I can say no more over the telephone. I will arrange for people to come to see you.’

‘How soon?’

‘As soon as it can be done; it will not be long, I promise. When they do come, you may wish to have your most senior commander present.’

Skinner called his office as soon as he stepped from the plane on to the air bridge at Edinburgh. As he expected, Jack McGurk was still there. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked.