Murmuring the Judges

on her ability to deliver a blow as powerful as that which killed her husband. However it didn’t rule it out altogether, particularly since some months had elapsed between the stabbing and the discovery of the condition.’

Skinner picked up his coffee, which was still drinkably warm. ‘You seem to remember a lot about this case, David,’ he said.

Lord Murray nodded. ‘I should hope so, for I prosecuted it. I led for the Crown, too, when it went to the Court of Criminal Appeal. The defence tried to introduce the new medical evidence at that stage, but the appeal judges threw it out, quite rightly, as being against the rules of procedure. However they did say that the trial judge’s minimum recommendation seemed excessive, and urged the Secretary of State and the Parole Board to disregard it when the sentence first fell naturally for review.

‘You will have guessed by now,’ said the little judge, ‘that the Appeal Court Bench comprised Lords Orlach, presiding, Archergait, and Barnfather. I don’t know about you, Archie, but I can’t recall another occasion on which those three sat together in the Appeal Court, or even when two of them heard an appeal against the other.’

The detective replaced his mug on its coaster. ‘Which begs a question,’ he interjected, ‘Who was the trial judge?’

‘Coalville,’ said Lord Murray.

‘In that case, why isn’t he dead? I’d have thought that the judge who sentenced her would have been first on the list.’ Skinner looked across the table. ‘Still, if this theory is a runner, then we must assume that Coalville is a target. Lord President, I’d like him to be taken off all duties, so that he can be placed under close protection.’

‘So be it. He’ll hate it, but I’ll order it.’

‘Good. Next, can you recall who acted for the defence?’

‘Of course. Old Hammy Horne led; he died five years ago. His junior was Richard Kilmarnock.’

Lord Archibald grunted. ‘That couldn’t have helped the defence.’

‘It did in the longer term. Kilmarnock’s brother Arnold is a journalist. He was working in America at the time, but when he came home, he took up the case and ran a strong campaign over the issue.You’ll both recall that for a time, it was all over the Herald, the Scotsman . . . and the Courier of course, given the Dundee connection. Two successive Secretaries of State looked at it, but decided that they had no powers to intervene. Eventually a third decided that he didn’t care about powers, and ordered a re-trial.

‘Unfortunately, Mrs Gates’ MS was very bad by that time. She was declared unfit for trial and quietly released, to die in a nursing home a couple of weeks later.’

‘Is Arnold Kilmarnock still around?’ asked Skinner. ‘I haven’t heard the name lately.’

‘I believe he works for Sky News now, in the Far East,’ Lord Archibald answered. ‘So Richard told me.’ He looked at his guests. ‘This is very interesting. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll instruct King to develop chicken-pox or some such, and to stay at home for another week. After that, we’ll look at the situation again.

‘Thanks, Archie,’ said the policeman. ‘I’ll begin an investigation at once, starting with Richard Kilmarnock. Meanwhile, David, whether you like it or not, you’re going to have the same level of security as Lord Coalville. Since you prosecuted this woman, if there is someone out there who’s taking revenge on her behalf, you could be on his list too.’

70

The knock on the door was very light, but Skinner awoke at once. ‘Come in,’ he called, propping himself up on the single bed of the small, heavily curtained bedroom in the Headquarters building, and switching on the light.

The door creaked open and Ruth McConnell stepped inside. ‘It’s twelve mid-day, sir. Gerry asked me to come along and wake you as instructed.’ She placed a mug of coffee on the bedside table, and put a newspaper alongside it. ‘I thought you might like these.’

‘Thanks, Ruthie,’ he said, gratefully. ‘Gerry’s a good lad, but he hasn’t mastered good coffee yet.’

‘I’ll tell him about the extra scoop.’ She smiled over her shoulder as she left the room.

Propping himself up in bed, the DCC took a sip of his second coffee of the day and unfolded the Scotsman which his secretary had left. He beamed as he saw, second lead story beneath the predictable political exclusive, a full report of Martin’s press briefing, headed, ‘Robbery Gang Smashed As Two Are Sought’.

‘That’ll take some of the heat off,’ he muttered. He flicked through the rest of the paper, finding nothing of interest save the success of Heart of Midlothian in the first stage of a European competition. ‘That’ll please Mackie,’ he grinned as he rose from the bed and stepped into the adjoining bathroom.

Half an hour later he was back in the Chief’s office, showered, shaved and dressed in a fresh white shirt and in his uniform. The suit which he had worn at the exhumation and at the post-mortem had to go for dry-cleaning at once, he had decided.

‘What’s happening, Gerry?’ he asked the young man across the desk.

‘Things are reasonably quiet, sir. Mr Martin called to say that he’s sent Sergeants Steele and Neville out to West Linton with a team of uniforms to search Ryan Saunders’ cottage: also he’s applying for warrants to search Collins’, Newton and Clark’s houses. Finally he said to tell you that DC Pye and Mr Ankrah have begun reviewing those tapes again.

‘Oh yes,’ he added, ‘and Sergeant McIlhenney asked if he could have a word with you.’

Skinner looked surprised. ‘I didn’t think he’d be in yet. Tell him to step across.’

A minute later, his executive assistant knocked on the side door and slipped into the office, taking the seat which Gerry had just vacated. ‘Hello, Neil,’ said the DCC. ‘I thought I told you not to come in until two o’clock.’

‘Ach, I know, Boss,’ the big sergeant answered, ‘but it’s bloody chaos in our house in the morning, with the wee one running about and everything. I managed a few hours’ kip though.

‘After that, I decided I’d get started on the job you gave me; going to see Curly Collins’ wife, and Newton’s. I caught them both in.’

‘Did you get a result? Did the name Hamburger mean anything to them?’

‘It meant nothing at all to Mrs Collins . . . or so she said. She started by giving me dogs’ abuse for what’s in the Scotsman. Her Curly would never get involved in robbery or anything like that, he’s never been in trouble wi’ the polis in his life. He goes to confession every day and twice on Sundays. The usual crap, in other words, that we get from wives who know quite well that their men are bent, and enjoy the proceeds.

‘So naturally enough, she denied any knowledge of anyone called Hamburger.’

The big detective smiled. ‘I got on better with Alice Newton, though, out in Danderhall. She’s in a state of total and complete shock. I really believe that she didn’t have a clue what her husband was up to. They’ve been married since they were eighteen, they’ve got two teenage kids and an eight-year-old, and he’s always been a model husband as far as she’s concerned.

‘She told me that when he turned up at home yesterday morning, gave her a big bundle of cash and said that she wouldn’t be seeing him for a while, it was a bolt from the blue. I believe her.’

‘Why?’ asked Skinner.

‘Because I do, Boss. Anyway, if she was bent, she’d never have mentioned the cash, would she?’

‘No; you’re right there, I’ll grant you.’

‘I put the name Hamburger to her, and she thought she recognised it. “Just a bloke that Rory mentioned once or twice”, was what she said. She’d never met him, though, and she didn’t know anything about him. He was just a casual acquaintance, she thought.’

‘And maybe that’s all he is,’ said the DCC. ‘He’s the only link we’ve got, but he’s bloody tenuous. But Mrs Newton will know the rest of the team, won’t she? After all, they all soldiered together.’

Neil McIlhenney shook his head. ‘That’s the funny thing. According to her, they didn’t. She told me that Bakey took her up to the TA Club one night, a few months back. The other five were there; Collins had his wife with him, Saunders a girl-friend, who I guess could have been Mrs Sturrock, and Bennett brought his sister. The women were left at a table together, while the men went off for a blether, then they all went for a meal.

‘But Alice Newton didn’t know any of them before that night. She said that the men treated each other differently too. Saunders and Clark seemed to be very close, but the others were, well, pally enough, but not bosom