Quintin Jardine - Pray for the Dying

‘Then don’t dwell on it,’ he told her. ‘Because I don’t believe she was, and neither does Lottie Mann.’ He looked at his colleague. ‘How about you, Mario?’

The swarthy detective shook his head. ‘Probably not.’

‘But what does Aileen think?’ Paula asked.

‘I’ve never been good at working that out,’ Skinner replied, ‘but whatever she believes, she won’t mind having people think she was. There’s more votes in it.’

She stared at him, shocked. ‘Bob, that’s not worthy of you. The poor woman was terrified last night.’

‘Maybe, but she was spitting tin tacks when I spoke to her last at the thought of Clive Graham taking credit from it.’

‘Get away with you, you’re doing her an injustice.’

‘I wish I was, but I’m not.’ His expression changed, became quizzical. ‘Did she tell you anything last night about the two of us?’

Paula hesitated. ‘No, she didn’t say anything specific; but looking back, there was something about her, something different.’

‘We’re bust,’ he said. ‘Sorry to be blunt, but it’s over. The press will catch on eventually. When they do, we’ll call it “irreconcilable differences”. That’ll be true, as well.’

‘The police unification issue? Mario told me you were at loggerheads about it.’

He nodded. ‘That’s part of it, but not all. She was planning to turn me into a backroom politician. Aileen has ambitions beyond Scotland that I knew nothing about. She had this daft idea that I would help her fulfil them.’ He snorted. ‘As if.’

He stood, straightened his back, and smoothed his uniform jacket. ‘Now I must go. Wouldn’t do if I was late for my unveiling.’ He turned to Mario once again. ‘Okay, ACC McGuire. I have no idea when I’ll see you again, but I’m glad the promotion’s come through. It probably won’t make any operational difference to you, as you’ll still be head of CID under the new structure, but you’ll be doing the job from the command corridor, where you’ve belonged for a while now.’

A smile lit up McGuire’s face. ‘Thanks, boss.’

‘You’re out of date. Maggie’s the boss, for the next three months. She’ll need support though; be sure to give her all you can. And have your people do something for me too.’

‘Of course.’

‘Freddy Welsh. The armourer, the man that young Houseman and I arrested yesterday. The man who supplied the weapons for the concert hall hit and God knows how many others. Clyde and I didn’t have time to ask him all the questions we needed to, but they’re still relevant. Technically, it’s part of Lottie Mann’s investigation, but he’s in your hands, so your people should handle the interrogation.

‘I want to know who placed the order for the weapons. Was it Cohen, the man who put the operation together, or was it someone else? Somebody sent that team after Toni Field. . yes, Paula, fact is we’re certain she was the target. . and we must find out who it was and why they did it.’

‘I’ll handle it myself,’ the new ACC said. ‘But it’s a pound to a pinch of pig shit, Bob; his lawyer will have advised him by now to keep his mouth shut.’

‘Then keep his lawyer out of it. Welsh is going away for years for illegal possession of firearms, and conspiracy to supply. We don’t need to charge him over his involvement in Field’s assassination, so you can interview him as a potential witness, not a suspect.’

‘Okay, but I’ll bet you he still won’t talk. His customers aren’t the sort you inform on.’

Skinner smiled. ‘If that’s how it is, you give him a message from me. If he holds out on us, I won’t hesitate to hand him over to MI5, and Clyde Houseman. My young friend made quite an impression on Freddy at their first meeting. I don’t think Mr Welsh will be too keen on another session. Now, I really am off.’

McGuire saw him to the door. ‘Well,’ he said as he rejoined his wife in the sunshine. ‘Is this our morning for surprises? The big man enticed to Strathclyde, not to mention him and Aileen being down the road.’

‘Indeed,’ Paula laughed. ‘And maybe get yourself ready for another. When she saw that Joey Morocco last night, before the concert, and it was all going off. . mmm, that was interesting.’

Mario looked at her, intrigued, reading her meaning. ‘She looked like she wanted to eat him, did she?’

‘Oh, I think she has, in the past. In fact I know so, ’cos she told me. And I’m pretty certain she fancies another helping.’

‘God, but you’re hot stuff when you’re angry, Aileen de Marco,’ Joey Morocco gasped.

She smiled, looking down on him as she straddled him. ‘Then look forward to mediocrity, my boy, because I won’t stay mad for ever. . unless you can come up with ways of winding me up.’

‘What if I told you I’m a Tory?’

‘Hah! That might have worked once, but now I’d just feel sorry for you, ’cos you’re an endangered species in Scotland.’ She raised an eyebrow, reached behind and underneath her and took his scrotum in her right hand, massaging him, gently. ‘You’re not, are you?’ she asked.

‘Absolutely not! Absolutely not!’

‘Just as well,’ she laughed, releasing him.

‘You don’t need to stop that, though.’

‘Yes, I do. I’m knackered.’ She pushed herself to her feet, bounced on the mattress as if it was a trampoline, and jumped sideways off the bed. ‘Besides, have you seen what time it is?’

‘No; a gentleman removes his Tory Rolex, remember.’

‘And this lady keeps on her nice socialist Citizen. For your information it’s gone half past twelve.’

‘Missed breakfast, then,’ he observed, with a cheerful grin. ‘Have we still got fairies at the bottom of the garden?’

‘My unwanted guardians, you mean?’ She crossed to the window and looked outside, taking hold of a curtain and drawing it across her body. ‘Yup. They’re parked across your driveway too; that’s a clear sign to anyone that there’s something going on here. I thought the protection people were supposed to be subtle. Here,’ she added, ‘do you ever have paparazzi hanging around?’

‘Yes,’ he exclaimed, sitting upright, suddenly alarmed, ‘so get your face away from the window.’

She stayed where she was, looking back over her shoulder, and letting go of the curtain. ‘Why? Would I be bad for your image? Would your fans not approve of you with an older woman?’

‘I’m not worried about my image, Aileen,’ he protested. ‘I’m concerned about yours. You’re married to a bloody chief constable, remember, and you’re a top politician. You can’t afford scandal.’

She left the window and winked at him. ‘Not to “a chief constable”, Joey; to “The Chief Constable”. Bob’s taking over the Strathclyde job; it’s an emergency appointment. There was nobody else there anyway.’

Her reassurance was wasted on him. ‘Jesus Christ,’ he said, ‘so these guys outside, they report to him?’

She shrugged. ‘I suppose they do. But can you see them being brave enough to go to him and say, “By the way, sir, your wife’s shagging Joey Morocco”? Somehow I don’t. But even if they did, frankly I would not give the tiniest monkey’s. I wouldn’t lose my party job over this, for I’m divorcing Chief Constable Skinner just as fast as I can, or he’s divorcing me, if he gets in first.’ She read his concern. ‘Don’t worry, Joey. You won’t be caught in the middle. The split between Bob and me, it’s not about sex, it’s about ambitions that could not be further apart. You and me? We’re just a bit of fun, right?’

He hesitated, then nodded.

‘That’s how it was when you were starting out on that soap on BBC Scotland, fun. Now you’re in big-budget movies, moved upmarket, and I’m free and soon to be single again, but it’s still just fun, convenient uncomplicated nookie, no more than that. You’re a sexy guy and I’m a crackin’ ride, as my coarser male constituents would say, so let’s just enjoy it without either of us worrying about the other. Deal?’