Quintin Jardine - Hour Of Darkness

It was creased beneath the glass, as if it had been well-handled in its lifetime, and its colour had faded somewhat, lending it a pale yellow veneer. It showed a beach scene, and a woman in her thirties, dark-haired, full-bodied and not unattractive, with her arms around two boys, the older of whom could have been no more than ten. There was a clear resemblance between the trio; mother and sons, for sure , she thought.

‘If this is Miss Spreckley. . I wonder who these two are and where they are now.’

‘And if they know where she is,’ Singh added.

The DS barely heard him, for she was staring hard at the images. ‘Maybe we know,’ she said. ‘This photo has to be thirty years old at least. Sixty-something, female, stocky build, had children. Tarvil, have you read the file on that body that was washed up a week ago? I’m not saying it’s her, but she’s definitely a candidate.’

‘Why are you calling me, David?’ Mario McGuire asked. He was in his car, with his wife in the back, beside their baby, in his egg-like seat. He had pulled into a layby when his phone had sounded.

‘Because Mary Chambers is unavailable,’ Mackenzie replied, his voice amplified by the Bluetooth system, ‘and I need to report this further up the line. You’re the ACC Crime.’

‘So what do you want to tell me?’

‘It’s more a case of asking you, sir. I’d like to know whether you’re happy about Neville having called out the bloody A team to what turned out to be a potential crime scene in Caledonian Crescent without reference to her senior officer.’

‘Why should I not be happy? And why are you not?’

‘I sent her down there,’ he said, indignantly. ‘She should have reported back to me first.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the householder appears to be missing, there’s a possibility that she might be the Cramond Island body, and I’m the senior investigating officer on that case.’

‘So I noticed when you held that press briefing. It would have been nice of you to tell Sammy Pye first.’

‘With respect, I don’t have to, sir. He reports to me, directly. So does DS Neville, when McGurk’s off duty.’

‘With respect to you, David, I don’t share that interpretation. You’re the CID coordinator for the Edinburgh divisions. That doesn’t make you automatically the SIO on all investigations in the city; in fact, it suggests to me that you shouldn’t be SIO on any. Did you give Karen a specific instruction to take no action without your approval?’

‘No,’ Mackenzie snapped. ‘I told that big Sikh to. .’

‘Hold on a minute!’ McGuire retorted, on the edge of losing his temper. ‘You told who? What do you call me behind my back? “That big Mick?” or “That big Italian?” After all, in my case you’ve got a choice.’

‘I told Detective Constable Singh. .’

‘That’s better, Superintendent,’ he said, cooling a little. ‘You let the wrong person hear you refer to a junior officer by his religion or race rather than his rank and name, and you’ll be beyond any protection.’

‘Sorry, sir,’ the other man replied, stiffly. ‘It won’t happen again. But I did tell him that he and Neville should check it out and report back to me.’

‘And did they?’

‘They did,’ he conceded, ‘but by that time Neville had called in Forensic Services.’

‘On the basis of the details that PC Wood had called in, as you described them to me in your earlier call, I’d have done the same thing. As far as I’m concerned DS Neville had the discretionary authority as the senior officer attending.’

‘And to advise DI Pye? Did she have that authority too?’

‘Sure she did. For the last five days, Pye and Haddock have been fielding hotline calls from the public on the Cramond Island case, all of them useless. Karen had potentially important information, and as a police officer she had a clear obligation to pass it on, directly. Blood all over the kitchen of a woman in the right age bracket, who’s apparently gone missing? Come on, man, of course she did right. David,’ he continued, ‘cut to the chase. What’s this really about? Don’t bullshit me now, out with it.’

Mackenzie’s sigh seemed to fill the car. The ACC looked at his wife, via the rear-view mirror and rolled his eyes.

‘If you insist. I’m not happy having Detective Sergeant Neville under my command.’

‘Actually she isn’t,’ McGuire pointed out, ‘not directly. She reports to Jack McGurk, who’s acting DI while Becky Stallings is on maternity leave; you’ve just acknowledged that yourself. That makes you her two-up boss. That aside, what’s your problem with her?’

‘I’m not sure she’s competent. She’s been away from the force for several years. During that time things have moved on, yet she’s come straight back in as a detective sergeant and here she is on the ground in what might be a very important investigation.’

‘You mean “high-profile investigation”, don’t you?’

‘Well, yes,’ Mackenzie concede, ‘I suppose so. But that doesn’t matter. In my view she should have had a probationary period in uniform and retraining before she was let anywhere near a CID office. To be honest, I don’t understand why Mary Chambers didn’t insist on it when she was interviewed.’

‘Chief Superintendent Chambers wasn’t there when Neville was interviewed,’ the ACC said quietly. In the mirror, he saw his wife wince. ‘She was on holiday. I did the board myself and I took the provisional decision to put her straight into CID. . provisional, because in the circumstances, I felt it should be ratified by the chief constable, and it was. So, David, you’re questioning my judgement and Maggie Steele’s. Is that it?’

The car fell silent, as if Mackenzie was contemplating the ground beneath his feet and the speed at which it was rising up to meet him. ‘I’m only expressing my concern,’ he replied, ‘and voicing an opinion. I meant no disrespect.’

‘Fair enough, and I’ll accept that because I know your concerns aren’t based on Karen’s ability at all. Your objection to her is transparent, man. She’s Andy Martin’s ex-wife; that’s your problem. You don’t like Andy. That’s an open secret. You don’t like him and you’re concerned that she’ll have his ear, and be marking his card about you.’

‘No, sir,’ Mackenzie protested.

‘Oh but “yes, sir”. And you’re wrong. Karen and Andy have a civilised relationship, but they spend about five minutes a week in each other’s company, when he collects the kids and drops them off. In those five minutes, there is no way that they’ll share any sensitive policing issues. They’re both far too responsible and too professional for idle gossip.’

McGuire paused, then decided that frankness was necessary. ‘The sad truth is, David,’ he said, ‘that you’re flattering yourself. You mean nothing to Andy Martin, nothing at all. In the unlikely event that you ever apply for a secondment to his agency, you’ll be judged on your record, your performance at interview, and that’s all. . just as Karen was, incidentally. Are we clear on all that?’

‘Yes, sir.’ The superintendent’s hostility was evident, even in those two words.

‘Good. Now let’s get back to matters in hand, for my Paula is mightily pissed off to be sitting in a layby when we should be at her sister’s for lunch. You will call Pye and Neville, please, and tell them that if the blood in that kitchen did belong to Cramond Island woman, the subsequent investigation will be run out of Leith, with Sammy as SIO. Not you, him; that’s a direct order from me. He will report to you, yes, and through you to Mary and me, but it’s his show and all future public statements, press briefings et cetera, will be down to him.’