killer?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘Not as far as I’m concerned. I feel it in my gut that these crimes are related.’ He glanced at her. ‘Hey, Mags, promise me something, right now: promise me you’ll still challenge me, won’t you, even if you do leave the job?’
‘You don’t need me to do that. You always get there.’
‘Maybe, but sometimes you help me get there faster. Like now: one of my priorities tomorrow will be to run both crime scenes, photos and descriptions, through the national computer to see whether we get any matches.’
‘How far back will you go?’
‘As far as I can. Now, please, let’s talk about something else.’
‘Such as?’ She grinned.
‘Anything,’ Stevie pleaded. ‘Your day, for a start.’
‘Mine was pretty ordinary. Tomorrow I start the handover to my stand-in.’
‘Ah, you’ve got one at last. Who is it?’
‘Your old boss, Mary Chambers; for the moment at least. They’ll review that when I tell them how long I’ll be staying away, and I will not do that until the baby’s safely delivered. I had a visit from the ACC today. I don’t think he’s too pleased with me over that, but he didn’t say as much.’
‘Brian Mackie knows you too well to do that. Anyway, I reckon you’re wrong: I reckon the assistant chief constable would be just a wee bit relieved to see you go, if you did. You’re a better copper than he is, all round, and you’re a better leader. The whole bloody force knows that, and so does he.’
‘You’re biased.’
‘Sure,’ he agreed, ‘but that doesn’t stop me from being right.’
‘You’re underestimating Brian. He’s had “Command Corridor” written in his stars for years.’
‘And so have you,’ Stevie insisted. ‘He beat you there on seniority, that’s all, but he knows that if you’re both in the game he won’t beat you to the next level. It’ll suit his long-term ambitions if you’re not around.’ He grinned. ‘It’s too bad that he’ll be disappointed.’
‘What do you mean?’ She frowned across at him, and her tone was defensive, for all that she tried to disguise it.
‘I mean, love of my life, that I don’t buy into the notion of you putting motherhood before the career that’s been the focal point of your adult life. Yes, you’ll take your maternity leave, and you’ll devote all that time to the baby. Then when it’s up, we’ll find a carer and you’ll get back on the ladder. A year or two after that, you’ll start looking for promotion opportunities . . . that’s if they don’t come looking for you first. The chief retires in less than a year, remember.’
‘And I’ll still be on leave.’
‘That doesn’t stop you being considered for the vacancy that’ll arise when Bob Skinner steps up.’
‘You’re getting miles ahead of yourself there. Who says the DCC will take over as chief constable?’
‘Who doesn’t?’
‘Maybe he doesn’t,’ she retorted. ‘I was his executive officer for a while, remember. I know him, and I’m not sure he wants it. The job would frustrate him: he’s a hands-on guy, always has been. Stevie, he could have been a chief five years ago; he would have been in with a shout for every vacancy that’s arisen since that time, anywhere in the UK. There was even a rumour not so long ago that he’d been sounded out about the Met.’
‘Maybe, but this is his patch. He loves Edinburgh; he’s been happy as long as our present chief’s been in post, but can you see him welcoming an outsider into Sir James Proud’s office with open arms?’
‘That might depend on who the outsider is. What if Andy Martin goes for it?’
Stevie’s grin became a laugh. ‘Andy Martin was his protege until he moved to Dundee. The two of them are blood brothers. Do you really see Andy going for Proud Jimmy’s job over the head of his best friend?’
‘I do, if Mr Skinner tells him to.’
‘Which he won’t. Look, Mags, what’s the big man doing now?’
‘He’s enjoying a well-earned sabbatical, after a most horrendous year.’
‘Which he’s using to prepare himself, so the story goes. Tarvil Singh’s wife works at Heriot-Watt, in the Borders campus: according to her, he did a specially arranged six-week course during February and March, researching the management of stress in the workplace. Then, last month, he spent three weeks in Toronto, on secondment to the RCMP.’
‘How do you know that?’ She paused. ‘Of course: your cousin Joey.’
‘That’s right, he’s a Mountie sergeant in the Ontario division. I had an e-mail from him last month: he told me that our DCC had been on a tour of all their offices, spending time with each of the departments. It was all set up through their CO.’
‘You never told me!’ Maggie exclaimed.
‘Okay, but there are things you don’t tell me, operational stuff. I wouldn’t expect you to. By the same token, I reckoned that if this wasn’t on the bulletin board, maybe I wasn’t meant to know about it.’
‘Secretive bugger.’ She sniffed. ‘They should have given you the Special Branch job, rather than plucking Dottie Shannon out of her inspector’s uniform.’
‘Sorry.’
‘You’re forgiven. I still don’t go with your theory, though. He’s got to fill in his time somehow, and the whole point of sabbatical leave is that you use it for professional development.’
‘So what are you going to do on your maternity leave? Just feed the baby and nothing else?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Indeed? In that case, what was that stuff about an Open University business management course that I found in the printer the other day?’
She glowered at him. ‘Bloody detectives: you’re never off duty.’ She paused. ‘Stevie, the truth is I don’t bloody know what I want to do. But if I did an OU course, would it bother you?’
‘My darling, nothing you do could bother me. If that’s what you want, go for it. Just hold off till the baby’s born and you’ve recovered, that’s all.’ He slapped himself on the side of the head. ‘Ah, that reminds me: I checked the answer-phone when I was in the bedroom. There’s a message for you from the maternity unit at the Royal: they want you to call them.’
‘Did they say about what?’
‘No. All the guy said was that it was purely routine.’
Maggie laughed. ‘Purely routine: even medics are using police-speak now. Next thing you know I’ll be helping them with their enquiries.’
Six
‘This is all right,’ said Detective Constable Tarvil Singh, as he looked around the room, ‘apart from the noise of the kids next door. What’s this place called?’
‘Gullane Village Hall,’ DS Ray Wilding replied, ‘simple as that. The playgroup doesn’t last all day, and it was a lot easier to borrow this office than to bring a mobile unit down. And, by the way, it’s a truly sad bastard who hardens his heart against the joyous sound of children at play.’
‘Spoken like a single man. I’m well familiar with that sound, believe me. I get plenty of it at home.’ A wooden seat gave an ominous creak as he settled his massive frame into it. ‘Where do we start?’ he asked.
‘We’ve started,’ said the sergeant. ‘We’ve got uniformed officers down on the beach and in the car park behind it, interviewing people, looking to find those that go there every day, showing them the photo and asking if they know who she is. You and I are going to do the rounds of the pubs in Gullane, Aberlady, Dirleton and North Berwick to see if she’s recognised in any of them.’
‘What about the DI? Where’s he?’
‘He’s down at the bents, briefing the uniforms and getting them under way.’
‘What about the golf club? He doesn’t really think there could be a link there, does he?’
‘Of course not,’ a voice from the doorway exclaimed. Stevie Steele stepped into the room. ‘We had to check out the possibility that the victim might have been brought to the scene using the road that runs across the course,
