growing fainter behind him, only to rise in intensity once more as two deer broke from their camouflage against a clump of dark bushes, and raced across the course in the direction from which he had come.
He laughed to himself at the power of the place to lighten his mood, then set himself for the last punishing section of his run, back up and over the hill once more, at speed this time, along the roadside, into the village and across Goose Green to his cottage.
Sarah was seated in the kitchen, in a pale blue robe, giving suck to her son, as Bob sprawled through the back door, steaming, streaming with sweat and holding his pulse to check his recovery rate.
Woah, hoss,' she cried. 'Stay away from me.'
He stripped off his running gear and stepped straight into the shower beside the kitchen, which he had installed when Alex was a child so that the sand from the beach could be washed off before being trailed into the house. Setting the valve to cool, he twisted the lever, arching his back and bunching his muscles as the powerful jet hit him.
As he soaped himself he heard Sarah call from the kitchen. `Can't hear you,' he bellowed back. 'I'll be out in a minute.' It took longer than that for him to cool out completely, but eventually he stepped back out of the small shower compartment, drying himself with a fluffy white towel.
She looked at him as he stood framed in the doorway, tall, lean and powerful, his golden tan emphasised by the white patches around his hips and around his wrist, where his watch was normally worn. 'Well, did that help?'
He grinned at her. The older you get, the harder you have to work to stay in shape. You wait till you get to my age.'
It was her turn to laugh. 'I can wait. I can wait. I find it hard enough being a thirty-something as it is. But that wasn't what I meant. I meant did you get your head together? All night you were tossing like a ship on the stormy ocean.'
Was I? Sorry. Ach, it's just this whole week, and everything that's happened. It's bizarre. I feel as if we're missing something. I get frustrated when an inquiry isn't going as fast as I'd like it, and it's worse on this one, where I've made a point of putting someone else in command.
`But it's OK, I've got myself sorted out now. Whenever I need a lesson in letting things take their course, a run through God's own country out there always does the trick.' He towelled his wet hair vigorously. 'By the way, what were you trying to say when I was in the shower?'
Oh yes, Brian Mackie telephoned. He had a call from South Africa.'
Skinner's eyebrows rose. 'Already?'
`Yeah, he said they called him at seven-thirty. They've got more news on Oliver's father's disappearance.'
`That was quick. Did they say how he is?'
`He's fine, from the sound of things. He woke up early this morning wanting to talk. Brian would like you to give him a call.'
`Sure, soon as I'm dressed.' She followed him from the kitchen, through the house to their bedroom, with Jazz, who had finished his first feed of the day, sprawled contented across her shoulder. Skinner dropped his towel into the laundry basket and stepped into their shower room. Standing naked before his shaving mirror, he wet his chin with hot water from the basin tap and rubbed gel, liberally, into his tough stubble. As he drew the razor in its first long sweep down the side of his face, a memory from the previous evening resurfaced suddenly in his mind. He called over his shoulder.
`Hey, remember last night when you and Sue were deep in conversation and you waved me away? What was all that about?'
Sarah stepped into the shower room to stand alongside him. `That..' she began, strangely hesitant. 'You might say that it was women's talk. Sue had something on her mind, and she's short of girlfriends to confide in.'
`What's her problem, then? Physical or emotional?'
`The latter.'
Ah! Is Hector that tough to live with?'
`No, he's very kind to her, under all that crustiness.'
`But he can't attend to her physical needs, yes?'
OK, so he can't, but that's got nothing to do with it, either.'
Oh yes?'
She stamped her foot lightly in mock exasperation. 'Damn you Skinner! You're going to go on and on, aren't you! Look, I'll tell you, but not a word or any sort of a hint to Sue… or anyone else, that you know about it.'
As he shaved, she recounted Sue Kinture's story. By the time the last of the gel was cleared from Bob's face, his smile had gone with it.
Fifty-three
He had just driven away from the cottage when he remembered that he had not called Mackie. He switched on his earphone and dialled the Headquarters number, knowing, even though it was Saturday, and not yet 9 a.m., that he would find the early-rising, workaholic detective at his desk.
`Mackie.' Skinner smiled at the cautious tone, and imagined his lugubrious colleague's brow wrinkling at such an early weekend call.
`Mornin', Brian' He tilted his head up towards the hands-free microphone clipped to the car's sun visor. 'S’ok, there's no new crisis. I'm just returning your call. Sarah said that there had been word from South Africa.'
`Morning boss.' His voice boomed around the car. 'Yes, that's right. I asked them to keep us informed, in case it ties into our investigation. The Durban people called me early doors. Old man M'tebe woke up bright and breezy, and wondering where the hell he was.
`He's pretty vague about most of what happened to him. It seems that his abductors stuck him full of dope as soon as they picked him up.'
`Was he able to describe them?'
`Yes, he said they were Maggie Thatcher and Ronald Reagan!'
`What!'
`They wore rubber joke shop masks when they snatched him, and every time they showed themselves to him. He heard their voices, though, and he's pretty certain they were Australians. After they kidnapped him off the street, they gave him a shot and took him to an abandoned two-room shack on the outskirts of the city.'
Did they tell him why he had been taken?'
`No, boss. He said that he doesn't remember them speaking to him directly at all. He was pretty well out of it by the time they got him to the shack, and they kept giving him shots all the time he was there.'
`So how did he get away? Did they let him go?'
`No, sir. He said that one time they must have given him less juice than they intended, or forgotten to top him up, because he came round from it. But he played it crafty. When they came in to check him, he pretended still to be semiconscious. They gave him some more, then went back into the other room. Once they had gone, he was able to climb out of a window and get clear of the place, before the stuff took effect. When he walked in front of that car he was legless again from the dope.'
`What were they giving him?'
`Just a strong sedative, according to the hospital; the sort of stuff you can buy over the counter in some countries.'
And they didn't say anything to him? Nothing at all?'
`They didn't say anything to him, boss, but he did hear something interesting. Before they gave him that last shot, when they thought he was still out of it, they were talking to each other, and Maggie Thatcher said to Reagan that maybe they shouldn't give him any more. He said, according to M'tebe, 'RA only said to keep the fellow out of circulation for a few days, not to kill him.' The police asked him if he was certain of the name they used, and he said he was. He said that to him all Aussies speak slowly, so he could make out every word they said.'