was close enough to singe the surrounding hair. As you’ve seen, the bullet hasn’t exited, which, given the range, would indicate something like a point two-two or nine-millimetre weapon. You’ll know when we recover the thing, if it’s not too misshapen from rattling about inside her skull. Time of death? Six to eight hours ago, I’d say.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘That would make it, neatly, between six and eight a.m.
‘Obviously I can’t carry out a complete examination here, but I could see no other signs of violence on the body, save one, and it hardly qualifies. There is very slight bruising on the left shoulder; it could be the print of a hand, possibly indicating that the woman was gripped from behind and shot. There’s no indication of any resistance whatsoever, so chances are, she never knew a thing, just the lights going out.’ He paused. ‘Any of that significant?’
‘All of it, worse luck,’ McGuire growled. ‘Thanks, Aidan. When can you do the post-mortem?’
‘As soon as I can round up someone to assist, or find someone more eminent than me to take the lead.’
‘I don’t want to wait for the professor for this one: I’d like to get my hands on the bullet as soon as possible.’
The doctor’s eyebrows rose slightly. ‘For comparison with another case?’
McGuire winked at him. ‘Come on now, Doc, you know we always run ballistic comparisons.’
‘But maybe not as a matter of urgency.’
‘Bugger off . . . with respect to your professional status, of course.’
Brown smiled. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Get her to the city mortuary as soon as you can. I’ll be ready, even if it means working this evening, so you’d better have your witnesses in place too. If I’m breaking my back over this I don’t want you lot holding me up.’
As soon as the Irishman headed for his car, McGuire beckoned to a red-haired figure who stood waiting, amid a group of tunic-clad officers. ‘DI Dorward,’ he called out. ‘Your team can get to work now.’
‘Are we looking for anything in particular?’ the man asked, as he approached.
‘The day I tell you how to do your job, Arthur,’ the head of CID replied, ‘mine will really have gone to my head.’
‘Come on, boss, give us a clue.’
‘Well, first of all, we’d like to know who she is, so you should make identification a priority. Also, if you find a spent cartridge casing, that would be very nice.’
‘That’s assuming that the uniforms haven’t ground it into the sand . . . or you, for that matter.’
‘Give us credit for a wee bit of professionalism.’
‘Not after being in this job for the time I have.’ He glanced around. ‘Will this be a media-free zone?’
‘As free as we can make it. We can keep the beach clear, but anybody with the wit to hire a boat from North Berwick and run it along here will have a clear view.’
‘And they’ll do that too,’ Dorward muttered. ‘We’d better get cracking, in that case.’ He turned, signalling to his team to join him on the beach.
‘So where do we go from here, sir?’ Steele asked; the question was loaded.
‘I go back to Fettes,’ the detective chief superintendent replied, ‘back to Headquarters. You take charge of this investigation.’
‘It’s outside my area,’ the inspector pointed out. ‘It’s in East Lothian.’
McGuire sighed. ‘How did I know you were going to say that? I don’t care where the fuck it is. This murder is identical in every respect to the Stacey Gavin killing two months ago, and you’re carrying the ball on that one. I’m not having two teams chasing the same person, you must realise that.’
‘I do, but will DCI Leggatt understand? He’s the divisional commander here.’
‘Of course he will.’
‘Are you sure, sir? He’s relatively new in his position; put yourself in his place and you might fancy a nice high-profile murder, especially in a rural area. A quick result would make your name.’
McGuire glanced sideways at his colleague. ‘Forgive me, Stevie, if I sound political, but this isn’t any old rural area. We are just outside the village of Gullane. Who lives here?’ He looked to the west. ‘Not a mile away, as the fly crows, or whatever.’
‘DCC Skinner.’
‘Exactly. Big Bob may be in the middle of this study break of his, but he’s still around. He’s been damn good so far about keeping away from the office, and letting us get on with our jobs; better than I expected, to tell you the truth. But I’m not so naive that I wouldn’t do him the courtesy of advising him of what’s happened on his own doorstep.
‘He might not interfere in the investigation, but as sure as God made Motherwell supporters, he will want to be sure that it’s being run to the best of our ability. That does not mean entrusting it to a new DCI whose biggest success to date, good collar though it was, is a white-collar scam involving a bogus property portfolio and some duped investors.
‘Stevie, your first task will be to identify the victim. There’s every chance she’s local, and every possibility that the boss knows her. So don’t you be too bothered about Graham Leggatt making his name; you concentrate on yours.’
Steele winced. ‘Am I supposed to thank you for that?’
The head of CID smiled affably. ‘No. Custom dictates that you say, “Yes, sir.” Anyway, you know I’m right to keep the two investigations under one roof. Don’t worry about DCI Leggatt: I’ll explain my decision to him. And when I do, I’ll bet he bloody thanks me.’
‘Do I keep him in the loop?’
‘If you want to do that as a courtesy, I’ve no objection, as long as you make it clear that it’s in confidence. Otherwise, you report to Detective Superintendent McIlhenney, when he’s back from changing nappies, and to me until then.’
‘What about manpower?’
‘Use the same core team that’s on the Stacey Gavin investigation, but you can augment it out here with locals as you need them, for door-to-door enquiries and the like. I’ll square that with Leggatt as well.’
‘What about the mobile HQ unit?’
‘There’s no point in bringing the van down here, even if we could find somewhere flat to put it: this is too isolated. You’ll have the odd beach rambler, like the man who found the body, and a few family picnics at weekends, but nobody else will come by here. If we have to you can set up the mobile unit in the village, but maybe we can borrow a public building for the purpose. Whatever suits you best.’
Steele nodded back towards the bents. ‘The road I drove down to get here: is that public? Is it a right of way?’
McGuire chuckled. ‘To the likes of you and me, maybe, but even then only by invitation or under warrant. It runs across Muirfield golf course, and that’s strictly private.’
‘So,’ the inspector scratched his chin, ‘only golf-club members would know about it.’
‘In the main, yes.’
‘And there’s no other vehicle access?’
‘There might be one through the Archerfield estate, but you’d need a tractor to get across here.’
‘So if we’re wrong and the victim was brought here, not killed here . . .’
A broad, piratical grin spread across the head of CID’s face. ‘I see what you mean, Stevie. Your first port of call will be the golf club itself. In that case, take my advice: walk very carefully.’
Two
‘I’ve just checked the weather forecast,’ Neil McIlhenney murmured. ‘It’s set fair well into May. It looks as if I picked a good time to exercise my new politically correct rights.’
‘Are you dropping a hint of cynicism about gender equality?’ Paula Viareggio asked.
‘Not me,’ the new father replied. ‘I am but a humble servant of the people. If it’s their will . . . or at least the will of about a quarter of them, if you look at the percentage of the apathetic buggers who actually turned out to vote for the present government . . . that I should have two weeks’ paid paternity leave, then who am I to say that they’re wrong? Who am I to say that it’s another burden upon hard-pressed employers struggling to keep their
