Continuous improvement is the name of the game, and in CID we have plenty of scope for that. Until our clear-up rates hit one hundred per cent we can never say, 'We couldn't do any better.' Your job is to make sure that I can go along to the Joint Police Board and Say, with a clear conscience, 'We're doing our best.'
As Head of CID, you won't be there to court popularity, but to earn respect. You acknowledge loyalty and reward achievement. You listen to your staff and you give weight to their views and their experience, but once the decisions are made, you make it clear that it has to be done your way. When somebody does that and gives of their best, you've succeeded. When someone doesn't, you've failed. And one of the reasons you're sitting there now is that you are incapable of living with your own failures. So when someone thinks that he or she knows better than the rest, or when someone is sloppy or careless, or obstructive or abusive, I know that you'll do something about it, and fast.
In other words, I know that when necessary you'll do all the stuff that the late Roy, God rest him, was too nice and easy-going to handle.' He smiled sadly for a moment then continued.
`Before the shit hit the fan yesterday, I was on my way down to the Borders to do an unannounced bollocking job. I want you to take that over too. When you read the figures, you'll see why. I shouldn't have had to do that, but I knew that Roy couldn't. He was my failure, in a way. He wasn't sloppy or obstructive, and a less abusive man you'd never have met, but he didn't have the heart for the tough stuff. I made a mistake installing him as Head of CID, but I didn't have the heart to correct it. So, Chief Superintendent, you see what I want from you?'
`Yes, sir,' laughed Martin. 'You want a clear desk.'
As far as day-to-day management is concerned, you're spot on. I want to be free to concentrate on crime strategy, and on the big issues, knowing that paper and problems aren't piling up in my in-tray when they could have been dealt with further down the line.
But I've got an immediate need for that clear desk, and you know why, don't you?'
`Yes. Because the world and its brother-in-law will be watching you on this one, and you can't afford any distractions. Don't worry, you won't have any.'
Skinner sighed and leaned back in his chair. Martin thought that he had never seen him so tired. 'Thanks, Andy. You've no idea how much of a relief that is. You're right — the world, and his brother-in-law, and his best pal will be watching. But the fact is I haven’ t a fucking clue where to start!
'Evidence and logic are my two guiding principles in detecting criminals. But so far, I've found only a scrap of the first, and not a sign of the other!'
TWENTY-SEVEN
Nine faces looked along at Skinner as he tapped the briefing room table with his pen to call the meeting to order.
He was flanked by Adam Arrow and Merle Gower. Ranged around the table and facing him sat Andy Martin, the burly figure of Detective Sergeant Neil Mcllhenney, young Sammy Pye, looking fresh-faced and eager, Maggie Rose, Brian Mackie, Mario McGuire, Alison Higgins, and her deputy, a young, sleek-haired, well-groomed Detective Chief Inspector named Dave Donaldson.
`Good morning, everyone,' said the DCC. 'Things were pretty chaotic yesterday, for all of us. What I'm going to say now will come as no surprise to those of you who were at the scene of the disaster, but to those who weren't, that's Ali, Dave, Brian and Mario, let me say that we're here to begin a murder investigation. A crime with two hundred and four victims.
The press are clamouring for more information. I've asked Alan Royston to schedule a briefing for twelve- thirty: this is what I'll be telling them.
`We were able to establish at the scene of the crash, and it has since been confirmed by the Black Box flight recorder, that an explosion occurred on board the aircraft. We have been able to establish still further, to our complete satisfaction, that the explosion was caused by a bomb.'
He looked round the table, his eyes settling on Higgins and Donaldson. The Superintendent's eyes were wide with surprise, but her colleague sat impassively, waiting for Skinner to continue.
`You don't seem surprised, Dave.'
‘I’m not, sir. I never doubted that's what it was.'
Indeed?' said Skinner. He sounded interested, rather than irked. 'Most of us operate on the basis of evidence first, conclusions second. What makes you special?'
I don't think I am, sir. I'm a believer in the laws of averages and possibilities, that's all.'
`What d'you mean?'
`Well, it's a matter of odds, isn't it? The odds against an aircraft coming down through mechanical or structural failure are pretty long, yet still it happens. The odds against the British and American Defence Secretaries travelling on the same civilian plane are pretty long too, yet that happened yesterday.
`But when you take the two situations and put them together — the two guys travelling on the same plane and that plane coming down — well, to a statistician, the odds against an accident might have been exactly the same, but to a policeman, they have to be astronomical.'
The DCC smiled. `Suspicious bugger, aren't you?' Donaldson's expression took on a chorister's innocence. `Who me, boss?'
It's no fault in a copper, Dave. Just be sure you don't make one assumption too many, that's all.'
He turned his attention back to the rest of the gathering. `Clever Dave here worked out that this was no accident; I dare say some of the rest of you did too. But what neither he nor anyone else could have guessed is how the bomb was taken on board. I know, and it's something I'm not going to tell the Press… and neither is any one of you!
The device was hidden inside the Defence Secretary's document case — his Red Box. It's made out of solid steel and bound in leather, and it's one of those rare items, like a protection officer's handgun, that is usually allowed to by-pass the airport security screening.
`There were two Red Boxes on that plane. One belonged to Roland McGrath, the Scottish Office Minister who was among the dead. That's been accounted for.'
He produced two colour photographs from a folder before him on the table. They showed front and back views of the fused piece of twisted, tangled metal which they had found on the moor. 'This was recovered in the area where the wreckage of the front two rows came down. We believe this was the second Red Box.
The scientists and the bomb boys have been working on it all night. The lab confirms that most of the black coating on the outside was leather, although they can't tell us what the original colour was. They have confirmed also that other parts of the coating, those raised marks, are carbonised human tissue.
`The Bomb Squad have confirmed that there was an explosive device inside the box.
Major Legge says that it was at least half-full of very powerful military high explosive, of the kind used in artillery shells, bombs and the like. There was no trace of the detonating mechanism, but he is guessing that there was a simple trigger device which completed a circuit as soon as the box was opened.
`Questions so far?'
Alison Higgins raised a hand. 'Have all of the bodies been recovered?'
Skinner nodded to Maggie Rose. 'All but two,' she said. 'We think we've matched a body to every seat except for Row 1, seats D and E. So far, the only trace we've found of Mr Davey or his private Secretary was what was melted into the Red Box.'
On Skinner's left, Merle Gower leaned forward. 'Does that mean that you've found Secretary Massey's body?' she asked eagerly.
`We've found…' Rose hesitated `… remains, which include a right hand with the second finger missing. That matches the description of Mr Massey which we were given by your Embassy.. They said he lost the finger in Vietnam.'
`He got off lightly there,' said Skinner. 'Too bad his luck didn't hold.' He looked around the table once more. 'Ms Gower and Captain Arrow have reports for us. I can't stress strongly enough that what they say here is in deepest confidence, and must not go beyond this room. However, before they begin, there are a couple of things I'd
