Quintin Jardine - A Rush of Blood

The chief constable rose from his chair, stepped across to his desk, and pressed a button, his signal to Gerry Crossley that he was ready for the other participants in his routine morning meeting. After a few minutes they filed in, led by Brian Mackie, the tall, bald, deputy chief. He was followed by the command corridor adjutant, Superintendent David Mackenzie, his uniform immaculate, as it always was, and by the massive, dark-haired Mario McGuire, jacketless, wearing a pale blue shirt and black cords.

‘Should we turn down the heating?’ Skinner asked him.

‘Early morning call,’ the head of CID replied, an explanation that was understood immediately.

‘Ah, you got dressed in the dark. Man, you look frozen.’

‘To the marrow, Chief. I’ll tell you about it in a minute.’

The group joined Steele at the chief constable’s meeting table, while Skinner pulled his leather swivel chair from behind his desk and rolled it across the floor. ‘Morning, all,’ he began. ‘Let’s go through the day. ACC Steele is on a tour of the city, she tells me. Mags, do the divisional commanders know you’re coming?’

‘Yes, although I haven’t tied myself down to a specific time with each of them.’

‘Fair enough, since it’s your first visit in your new post, but I’d suggest that as a general rule you’re a bit less courteous than that. Everywhere you go today you’ll see tidy desks and full out-trays. That’s fine, but is it the norm? Remember when I was deputy and I used to drop in occasionally, just to say “hello”?’

‘Of course.’

‘Can you ever remember me calling you to tell you that I was coming and to put the kettle on?’

‘Now you mention it, no.’

‘Exactly. I rush to say here that your desk was always neat and your out-tray was always bigger than your in-tray, but you were the exception rather than the rule, and that’s one reason why you’re sitting here today. I was at a do with Aileen a few weeks ago and I met one of the Police Board members there. She gave me this nice smug smile and told me that it was time we had a woman at chief officer rank. I told her. . fairly abruptly, I’m afraid. . that any organisation that allows gender bias or tokenism of any kind to influence its promotion policy is doomed to failure, sooner rather than later.’

‘Was Aileen within earshot?’ asked Brian Mackie. ‘I seem to remember her party doing something like that not too long ago.’

The chief constable nodded. ‘Oh yes, she was there, and she backed me up. She told the woman that the only positive discrimination she believes in is in favour of talent.’

Steele frowned. ‘So what are you saying to me, Bob?’

‘I’m getting round to saying that there will be one or two of your colleagues who will mutter behind your back that you are where you are because you’re female. They’re irrelevant, although anyone who says it to your face, you should refer to me. The rest, the great majority, are your friends and know your qualities; but there lies another difficulty. You don’t have pals at the office, not in our service.’ He looked round the group. ‘All of you are my friends outside this building, in my private life, but here you’re colleagues and your performance is measured in exactly the same way as every other member of this force. Mags, you’re now in line command of many people who outranked you only a couple of years ago. Some of them you like, some you don’t, but treat them all the same. You have to be that wee bit aloof; your authority has to be clear to them and to others. If any of them are reluctant to call you “Ma’am” in front of junior officers, deal with it, for this is a disciplined service and your rank requires it. What they call you in the privacy of their own offices is for you to determine.’

‘Got it.’

‘I know you have. It might lead to some awkward moments. . hell, no, it will. . but it’s the next step to being a chief constable,’ he glanced around, taking in Mackie, McGuire and Mackenzie, ‘for all of you. So,’ he smiled, ‘no more scheduled visits to your divisions.’

His gaze locked on Mackie. ‘Brian, what’s on your plate?’

The deputy rolled his eyes. ‘The joint working party with the local authorities, fire and rescue and the ambulance service on traffic management; ten thirty, Edinburgh City Chambers, and I know from experience that it’ll go on all day.’

‘You better leave now,’ Skinner growled, ‘if you want to get there on time. Speaking as a commuter, I’m fucking hacked off with it.’

‘Any message for them?’

‘Yeah, tell them from me that presiding over an unfolding disaster does not count as any sort of management in my book. Tell them they should suspend all work on the trams in the city centre, and switch to laying the line from the western end inwards. That might give some people a bit of respite, or at least share the grief. Tell them that the chief constable will not have gridlock in the city and that if this fucking project falls further behind schedule, I will arrest the senior managers and have them shot!’ He sighed. ‘Failing that, just do your best to get people to work on time.’

‘I take it you were held up this morning,’ said Mackie.

‘You take it right. Seriously, it’s one thing for me to be late for the office, but it’s another for ambulances and fire appliances to be stood still in traffic. That’s where the focus has to lie.’

‘I’ll emphasise that. I was planning to say that our traffic cars are going to crack down on improper use of bus lanes. Emergency vehicles, top priority, taxis and scheduled buses second; I’m also going to suggest that city tour buses and private hire coaches should be banned from using them.’

‘Can we do that?’

‘We can amend the regulations.’

‘How will that help rush-hour motorists?’

Mackie allowed himself a thin smile. ‘It won’t,’ he said. ‘Sorry, Bob.’

‘Bugger. Anything else?’

‘One thing.’ The DCC glanced at Mackenzie. ‘David flagged it up for me. The Serious Crime and Drug Enforcement Agency is on the lookout for a new deputy director, and from what he’s heard there’s a degree of urgency about it.’

‘Interested?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Quite right, but if the director’s job comes up and you fancy it. .’

‘I’m happy where I am. . unless that was an unsubtle hint.’

‘Far from it. But you’d be perfect for the job.’

‘I’ll settle for imperfection for now. However, there’s a second job on offer; national drugs co-ordinator, open to chief inspectors and above.’

Skinner’s eyes settled on Mackenzie. ‘David. You’ve got drugs squad experience, and you were damn good at it. Fancy it?’

The superintendent’s eyebrows came together. ‘There was a time when I might have, Chief, but even then I wouldn’t have been right for it. I’m a recovering addict myself; my problem might have been alcohol, but still, that’s an environment I’m better off avoiding.’

‘That’s good. I’m selfish; we need you here.’ He paused, then turned to the head of CID.

‘Mario: what was that wake-up call about?’

McGuire grinned. ‘It was to a suicide, would you believe?’

‘Eh? What did you do to the guy who called you out to that?’

‘The guy was McIlhenney. He was called before me, by Ian McCall.’

Skinner leaned back in his chair. ‘Right, Ian’s a sensible guy. So do I take it that death wasn’t self-inflicted?’

‘No. Subject to forensics and the post-mortem report, it almost certainly was. What gives us an interest is the identity of the dead man: Tomas Zaliukas.’

The chief constable gasped in surprise. ‘The Lithuanian? Tommy Zale? What did he do?’