‘We need two more links to complete a chain that I’d take before a jury, but the evidence is there. We know that King and the old boy hated each other’s guts. We know that inheritance was a source of concern to Norman. We understand that he was tight for cash after his divorce. We know that he would have had the opportunity to spike the water jug with cyanide.
‘Now, thanks to you, I’m afraid, we know for sure that he was aware of the judge’s plan to leave everything to the Faculty, and of the content of the joint minute. That gives him the motive to kill Barnfather too, to prevent the trust being executed even after his father’s death.’
‘What about the brother? Could it have been him?’
‘He’s been eliminated as a suspect in both cases.’
‘But how could Norman have hoped to get away with it?’ asked Lord Archibald, plaintively.
‘Why should he not? We’d never have known that Archergait had been murdered if Lord Murray hadn’t ordered a PM. As for Barnfather, given that he was homosexual, that might easily have been investigated as a one-off gay-bashing that went wrong.’
‘You mentioned two more links. What more do you need to charge him?’
‘I need to show that he could have had access to cyanide, and I need to place him in the Nature Reserve last Sunday.’
Scotland’s senior Law Officer stared across his desk at the policeman, his small eyes almost piercing him for several long seconds. ‘Then go for it,’ he whispered, at last, ‘with all you’ve got.’
‘Don’t worry, My Lord, we will.’
Archibald sighed. ‘Fucking hell,’ he said, still quietly but vehemently nonetheless. ‘Imagine the indictment: “Her Majesty’s Advocate versus Her Majesty’s Advocate Depute.” What a bloody mess!
‘If you get what you’re looking for, of course, I’ll be a Crown witness.’ He rubbed the back of his right hand across his mouth in an anxious gesture. ‘I’ll have to go, Bob. Resign.’
‘I hope sincerely that you’ll do no such thing, Archie.’
‘Oh but Bob, I must. I’ve just appointed the man as Home AD, for goodness’ sake. I’ll call the Prime Minister this morning.’
‘Absolutely not!’ said Skinner, his right index finger stabbing the air for added emphasis. ‘That could prejudice our investigation. It could tip King off that we’re after him. You must not resign before he is charged. You must not breathe a word of this to anyone. Does your wife know King’s ex, or his girl-friend?’
‘She knows Cheryl King.’
‘Then don’t even tell Lady Archibald about this. It wouldn’t be fair.
‘Archie, this isn’t your fault. I hope you won’t resign, but whatever you decide, I have to ask you to behave normally towards King until this matter is resolved.
‘I hate this as much as you, but if it is him, I’m going to have him.’
45
‘I can’t emphasise enough, Andy, how delicate this is. I’ve already had to restrain the Lord Advocate from chucking it on the spot. But if there’s the faintest hint that Norman King is in the frame for his old man’s murder, the balloon goes up for us all.
‘Imagine the public reaction if it becomes known that we let a man continue to prosecute in the High Court while he was under investigation himself.’
Martin nodded in agreement. ‘Couldn’t the Advocate take him off Court work for a while?’ he asked.
‘That’s his job. He’d smell a rat right away.’
‘Well, why not interview him now and let Lord Archibald suspend him on that basis?’
‘Come on,’ said Skinner. ‘You know the answer to that one.’
‘Aye okay,’ the Head of CID admitted. ‘If we did that and it made the press, there’d be no end of nutters coming forward to identify him at the scene of Barnfather’s murder.’
‘Not only that, suppose he is innocent? It could damage his career, and give him a comeback against us.
‘I want this sorted out as quick as possible. Get Maggie and Neville out in the Reserve first thing tomorrow, and keep them there till they get a result. But don’t tell them about the King development. Better they don’t know whose face might fit. Put people in the car park too. A lot of families go out there every weekend.
‘Meanwhile have McGuire and big Neil check out the cyanide angle. If we can place him in proximity to the stuff, we’re one step nearer.’
Martin nodded. ‘How long have we got on this? Has the Lord Advocate given us any sort of a deadline?’
‘No, but I have. I reckon if we’re no further forward by Tuesday, you and I are going to have to interview King formally.’ He pushed himself out of Proud Jimmy’s well-worn chair.
‘You still haven’t settled into that, have you?’ Martin commented.
‘No, nor will I ever,’ said Skinner shortly. ‘Now, what’s the score on the robberies?’
‘No score, so far, Boss. I suppose that the good news is that we haven’t had any more this week.’
‘I was thinking about that,’ said Skinner. ‘The banks are operating at maximum security levels, we’re sending armed teams in support of big payroll deliveries, and every jeweller in the territory has installed press-button entry systems.
‘My hunch is that they may have run their course, for now at any rate. The clever bastard behind these things is bound to have done a risk analysis. I suspect he’s decided to suspend operations for a while.
‘With all the cold trails we have, that’s going to make it all the more difficult for us to catch him. What are we doing, currently?’
Martin sighed, wearily. ‘Interviewing and re-interviewing potential witnesses: neighbours of Hannah Bennett, the residents in the block of flats from which her brother was shot, people who were in the banks at the time of the robberies.’
‘How about Rarity? Did you get any more out of him?’
‘Aye, a sob story. He’s been sacked.’
‘Now there’s a surprise,’ said the DCC, his voice heavy with irony. ‘After a loss like that someone was bound to carry the can. I’m sorry for the poor wee bugger, but he did bring it on himself.’ He paused.
‘What about Officer McDonnell? Any word of him?’
‘Not a cheep. Nor of Nick Williams either. We’ve looked into their lives so closely that I could almost tell you the sort of aftershave they use, but I can’t find even a fragment of a connection between them.’
‘And the girl-friend?’ Skinner asked.
‘Arlene Regan? She hasn’t been one of our priorities.’
‘Mmm. It might be worth telling Pringle to take a closer look at her. Let’s see what sort of fragrance she uses.’
Martin smiled. ‘I’ll do that. I’ll suggest that he lets Stevie Steele do some digging. I’m quite impressed by him.’
‘Aye, me too.
‘Speaking of bright young men, how’s Sammy Pye doing with those videos?’
‘The poor bugger’s square-eyed by now,’ the DCS replied. ‘But so far he’s come up with nothing in the way of a link. I let the Ghanaian stay with him for a while, until yesterday, when I sent him out to sit in with John McGrigor on the West Linton shooting.’
‘Any arrest for that yet?’
‘Not so far. They pulled in Martin Sturrock, the husband of the victim’s paramour. At first he denied ever having heard of the bloke . . . his name was Ryan Saunders, incidentally . . . but John soon got him to admit that he knew him, and that he’d heard the stories about him and his wife.’
‘What does she say? Did she confirm that she and Saunders were having it off?’
Martin laughed. ‘Oh yes. Straight away. She says her husband did it, no question. According to John, he threatened to do it as well. “I’ll blow his fucking brains out!” she quoted him as saying. And that was before the big fellow had told her that Saunders had been shot dead.’
‘What does he do, this Sturrock?’
‘He’s a small farmer. According to his wife, he has a rifle. If that’s true . . . for he denies it . . . it’s unlicensed,
