‘I mean that putting all the pieces back together was an impossible job.’
‘I see.’
Uncharacteristically, O’Malley frowned, as if the words had conjured up a vision that he would rather not have seen. He took a sip from the coffee cup on his table as he looked at his patient.
‘What are you thinking, Kevin?’ Skinner asked him.
‘You tell me.’
‘You’re thinking that for someone who’s admitting to having shot three human beings, I’m remarkably self- possessed. You’re thinking that you’ve examined psychopaths who reacted to their actions much as I have.’
‘Crimes.’
‘What?’
‘Who reacted to their crimes: you avoided the use of the word.’
‘So?’
‘Do you feel remorse for these three deaths? Do you ever have nightmares?’
‘Do their faces come back to haunt me, d’you mean?’
‘Something like that.’
‘In truth, Kevin, I don’t remember what any of them even looked like. The last one I never saw, other than through a night-sight . . . and then only the back of him.’ The DCC paused. ‘Look, I have the odd bad dream, but they’re not like I’m haunted. My nightmares are usually about what would have happened if things had gone the other way, if my gun had jammed, or if I’d missed my shot.’
‘Doesn’t that make you worry that you might be a psychopathic personality?’
A ball of almost tangible tension seemed to hang in the air as Skinner stared at his inquisitor . . . Then it vanished, as he laughed.
‘Bollocks, man, I’m no such thing. I react to situations in the way I’m trained to; that doesn’t make me a psycho. And you know why it doesn’t just as well as I do . . . at least I hope you do. It’s because I care, Kevin. I care about society, I love my family, and I fear the impact on them if anything happened to me. That’s what gives me the strength to deal with these things, not some inner voice that says, “Hey, I’ve got a gun and a licence to shoot that bastard!” Don’t be fucking crazy, man.’
‘I’m a psychiatrist,’ O’Malley retorted. ‘Of course I’m crazy, we all get that way in the end. Don’t worry, Bob, your self-analysis is spot on. If it wasn’t, I’d be in a difficult position, for when I report to the chief constable I’d have to recommend that you never had a firearm placed in your hand again, and maybe even that you were compulsorily retired.’
‘Some might thank you for that, but Sir James Proud wouldn’t . . . I hope.’
‘It’s not long to his own retirement, so I guess that losing you is the last thing he’d want.’ The psychiatrist paused. ‘Getting back on topic, Bob, we’ve dealt with the effect this and other incidents have had on you, but what about your family? How has your wife dealt with them, and Alex, your daughter?’
Skinner’s eyes narrowed. ‘I’m not sure that it is “on topic”. Why do you ask?’
Again, O’Malley seemed to lose a little of his self-possession; he shifted in his chair. ‘Come on, Bob,’ he protested. ‘My concern is with your total welfare, and your ability to function in a very responsible job. If people close to you are damaged by what’s happening to you, it’s relevant.’
‘Like hell it is. My family life is my own business, for better or worse. Did you ask Neil McIlhenney or Bandit Mackenzie that same question when you interviewed them?’
‘Yes, I did, and they both gave me straight answers, unlike you.’
‘What did they say?’
‘Don’t try to shift the ground. That’ll be included in my reports to you, as far as it’s relevant. It’s you I want to talk about.’
‘Why?’ Skinner demanded again. ‘Have you been hearing things?’ From nowhere, there was suspicion in his voice. ‘Has Jimmy been talking to you?’
‘Bob, I haven’t a clue what you mean by that.’ O’Malley seemed genuinely surprised. ‘Maybe we should move on from psychopathology and consider paranoia.’
‘No, let’s not do that. You just touched on a sensitive area in my private life, that’s all.’
‘Do you want to talk about it? Indeed, can you talk about it?’
‘Ah, you know both of us, so I don’t see why not. The fact is, Kevin, that Sarah and I are splitting up; she’s leaving me and going to set up a medical practice in New York. Mind you,’ he rushed to add, ‘her decision has nothing to do with the stuff you’re talking about. This is something that’s been brewing for a while.’
‘What about your children? I assume they’ll be going with their mother.’
‘Then you’re assuming wrong. We’re sharing custody; Mark, James Andrew, and Seonaid will live with me during the school term and spend their holidays with Sarah.’
‘How do you feel about this?’
Skinner shrugged his shoulders, an awkward movement since he was seated. ‘I feel as well as can be expected: that would sum it up. I hate failure in any form, but failing at marriage is just about the worst. We’re both being very civilised about it, though. A confrontational divorce wouldn’t help anyone.’
‘You mean it wouldn’t help your career?’
‘Do me a favour, mate! That hasn’t occurred to me at all. Since you ask, I don’t think it would harm it, but that’s not an issue. Neither is the fact that Sarah’s a hell of a lot wealthier than I am since her parents died. If we do a conventional property split, I’d be the winner, but we won’t. No, the kids come first and that’s it.’
‘You’re quite sure this has nothing to do with the areas we’ve been discussing?’
‘I said so, didn’t I?’ the DCC snapped irritably. ‘Things have happened between us.’
‘There’s been a third party?’
‘Over the years? Third parties, on both sides, to be honest: mine even made the lower end of the tabloid market, remember.’
‘I was trying not to. Okay, you haven’t been a paragon. Is that why Sarah’s going?’
The big man shook his grey-maned head. ‘No, she’s much better at forgiving than I am. I suppose that’s it. She had an affair in the States a while back. I’ve had trouble dealing with that.’
‘Why?’
‘Why have I had trouble?’ Skinner’s voice had an air of incredulity.
‘No, no. That’s a male ego thing, typical behaviour, nothing unusual about that. Why did Sarah have an affair?’
‘Ask her. Ask her about the other times as well.’
‘How many?’
‘Okay, just one other . . . that I know of. It happened that first time we were separated, and I was, I was . . . Let’s just say I don’t blame her too much for that. This one? Why? I don’t know why. She found the other fellow attractive, and they were far from strangers to each other. They’d been close at college, then gone their separate ways. Maybe she’d been carrying an Ever Ready for him all along. Or maybe it was just like she said, that I’d left her out there on her own when she needed me.’
‘Or maybe she just found him safe,’ said O’Malley, quietly.
‘Safe?’
‘Yes, Bob, safe. I’ve interviewed more than a few police officers’ wives in my time. Their stories all have the same thread running through them. “When he goes out the door in the morning in that uniform, I can never be one hundred per cent sure that he’s coming back.” That’s what they all wind up saying, one way or another. Okay, there may be little or no statistical basis for their anxiety, but that doesn’t make it any the less real.’
‘If she was after safety, she got it wrong, big-time. He’s dead.’
‘That’s too bad, but it doesn’t affect what I’m saying.’ He paused again. ‘Bob, the women I’m talking about, they’re the wives of ordinary officers, people on the beat, in office jobs, even. You are not one of those people. Look at the things that have happened to you; man, you’re a lightning rod for trouble, and still you go charging out into the worst thunderstorms. But the irony of it is that you don’t have to. You’re a deputy chief constable, for God’s sake. You’re in the Command Corridor; you have a desk job, yet you still go out there, whenever you can from what I gather, into the line of fire. You go on about how much you care for your family, and I believe you, but did you ever stop to consider how much the professional choices you’ve been taking might be harming Sarah?’ The psychiatrist let out a long sigh. ‘I wasn’t going to bring this up, but you did. She left you once before, as you’ve just said. Didn’t
