buddies.’
‘How very strange,’ said Skinner, slowly. ‘I wonder what, or who, brought them together?’
He sat up, abruptly. ‘Neil, I’m going to do some more digging . . . figuratively, this time. Meanwhile, I want you to go back up to the TA Club. Speak to Steele’s pal, Mr Herr, and find out when each of these guys joined the place, and, if he can tell you, who introduced them.’
McIlhenney nodded, rose and left by the door through which he had entered. As it closed, Skinner buzzed Gerry.
‘I’d like you to make me an appointment to see an advocate, Richard Kilmarnock, QC, as soon as possible this afternoon. Once you’ve done that can you let ACC Elder know, since the Police Federation reps are due for a meeting, and I want to spin it on to him. First though, ask Ruthie to step in here.’
‘Right away, sir.’
He sat back and waited. Seconds later, it seemed, the side door opened once more, and Ruth appeared, notebook in hand. He nodded towards it. ‘You won’t need that, I want you . . .’
He turned and glared angrily at the phone on his desk as it rang. ‘Sorry to bother you, sir,’ said Gerry, as he picked it up, ‘but I have Lady Proud on the phone.’
Skinner grunted. ‘She probably wants to know where we keep the detergent. Put her through.’
‘Hello, Chrissie,’ he said, before his caller could speak. ‘How’s it going out there? Are you enjoying Festa Major?’
‘Not today, Bob.’ As the Chief’s wife answered, the anxiety in her voice transferred itself to him.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘It’s Jimmy,’ she replied. ‘He’s not very well. We bought some fish at the market last night and cooked it for ourselves. I suppose we should have been more careful. We didn’t really know what it was.
‘It tasted all right at the time, but Jimmy was awful sick during the night, then he developed terrible pains in his middle.Your friend got the doctor for me, and they’ve taken him to hospital in Figueras. Bob, are these places all right?’
‘Of course they are, Chrissie,’ he said, reassuringly. ‘They’re as good as you’ll find here. Don’t worry about any language problems. I’m sure my pal will interpret for you as you need it.’
‘She’s already offered, thanks. Och Bob, it’s probably nothing but . . .’
‘I know. There’s nothing worse than a crisis when you’re a long way from home. How about you? Are you affected by this thing?’
‘I might have been a wee bit queasy this morning, but nothing like as bad as Jimmy.’
‘Well look after yourself anyway, and let me know how he’s getting on.’
‘I will do,’ said Lady Proud. ‘I feel better now I’ve spoken to you. Goodbye.’
He was frowning, as he turned back to Ruth. ‘Something wrong?’ she asked.
‘It sounds as if the Chief has food poisoning. Silly old bugger,’ he muttered, anxiously, ‘what’s the point buying fish on the market when you can go to a restaurant and have the same cooked by professionals for about the same cost.’
‘Oh dear,’ his secretary exclaimed. ‘What a thing to happen on holiday.’
‘Ahh, he’ll be okay. He’s as tough as old boots, is Jimmy.
‘Back to business, kid. I want you to go into my real office and get Adam Arrow’s direct-line number from my safe. I thought I had it in my head, but there’s so much other stuff in there right now it must have slipped out when I wasn’t looking!’
She smiled and hurried from the room. As he sat waiting, Gerry buzzed through once more. ‘Mr Kilmarnock will see you at the Advocates Library at four-thirty, sir. He’s a pompous character, isn’t he. He was quite insistent on knowing what it was about, until I told him that the acting Chief Constable simply wished to see him, and that was that. I said we could always send a car for him and bring him down here, if he wished.’
‘Good for you, son. Have you told Jim Elder about the other thing?’
‘Yes.’ Gerry paused. ‘Lady Proud told me about the Chief. What a pity; he really needed a holiday.’
‘Aye,’ the DCC grunted. ‘And plenty of bed rest. He’s getting that at least, by the sound of it.’
As he hung up, Ruth reappeared, laid a scrap of paper on the desk before him and slipped out once more. He looked at the number and dialled it.
‘Hello, Bob,’ said Major Adam Arrow, before Skinner had a chance to announce himself. He was probably the deadliest human being the DCC knew, yet he always found the little soldier’s voice warm and reassuring.
‘You do have a clever telephone, mate. I’m calling on a secure line.’
‘We’ve got all the fookin’ toys here, sunshine. ’Ow are you?’
‘Personally, I’ve never been better. Professionally, I’m snowed under.’
‘So I’ve been reading,’ Arrow chuckled. ‘I saw the story about the dead judges, and I thought to meself, “That fooking Bob’s a magnet for shit-storms, so ’e is.” So what can I do for you. D’you want me to sort you out a nice cushy billet down here in MoD?’
‘In theory, I’ve got a nice cushy billet here. I’m acting Chief just now, and everyone knows that Chief Constables do fuck all . . . if only. No, Adam, I want a favour, something involving your lot that needs doing quickly, and I figured there was no one better than the Head of Ministry of Defence security to make it happen.’
‘Okay,’ said the soldier. ‘Flattery works. What is it?’
‘I’d like to send you down half a dozen names by secure fax. They’re all ex-servicemen, ex-army. Three of them have been killed, and the other three have disappeared. I want you to see if there’s a common factor linking all six, and if there is, to put a name and a face to him.’
‘This wouldn’t be linked to your armed robberies, would it? I’ve been reading about them too.’
‘That’s how it looks.’
‘And you think that your common factor might be killing them off?’
‘That’s exactly right. The trouble is, apart from the first, I can’t figure out why.’
71
He had thought about buying a new suit before his meeting with Richard Kilmarnock, QC, but decided instead that he would go in uniform, to emphasise that his visit was official.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Skinner,’ said the Faculty attendant, seated at Thornton’s Box, the name by which, for no clear reason, the reception desk at the entrance to the Advocates Library had become known.
‘And the same to you,’ said the DCC. ‘Mr Richard Kilmarnock, please.’
‘I’ll page him for you, sir.’
Skinner had been waiting for almost ten minutes before the advocate answered the summons, but he managed to keep his irritation hidden, when finally he did appear, unsmiling and wearing an expression which suggested that he found the interruption tiresome.
Kilmarnock stood just under six feet. He was approaching fifty, but still slim and handsome, with wavy greying hair which gave him a debonair look. Like the detective, he was a member of Edinburgh’s New Club, and they had seen each other there. However, apart from their single High Court confrontation, they had spoken only rarely.
‘I can give you ten minutes, Mr Skinner, that’s all,’ he said brusquely.
The policeman noticed the attendant wince as he heard the remark, and drop his eyes to a note on his desk which had become suddenly very important. ‘You’ll give me all the time I require, sir,’ he replied in an even tone. ‘Now, where can we speak in private?’
Skinner’s glare forbade anything other than a muttered, ‘This way.’ The Silk led him down two flights of exceptionally narrow stairs, and then turned into a corridor off which were several small consultation rooms, with tall glass panels set into their walls. The one into which he ushered the policeman was brighter than the others, and octagonal in shape.
‘We won’t be disturbed here,’ said Kilmarnock. ‘Now, if you please, what is this about?’
‘HM Advocate versus Beatrice Lewis or Gates.’
The advocate blinked. ‘The Gates case? But that’s history . . .’
‘Then I’m a historian, because I want to know about it. You acted for the defence, I believe, and your brother
