'What do you think?'
'Enough said. But listen to me now. Who will gain if you quit over this? The Scottish Executive? I don't think so. The five people you're talking about? They won't even know about it. This is international arrogance, and while the fact that Murtagh's gone along with it should cost him his job, there's no reason why it should cost you yours.'
'He's half threatened to fire me for disagreeing with him and demanding a Cabinet discussion. I'm just going to beat him to it, that's all.'
'Call his bluff. He won't dare: you're too popular. He might like you to quit, but he can't sack you.'
Aileen paused for a few seconds. 'But, Bob,' she said, 'if I stay in post, it'll look like I support him.'
'No, it won't, not after I've done a bit of judicious leaking to the press. I can play these boys at their own game, don't worry. Now please listen to me: say nothing to Murtagh tomorrow. Stay in your job. There's nothing you can do that'll alter what's going to happen. None of these people are UK nationals, so they'll go. There may be a small row about it, but it'll soon blow over. Even if it does damage the First Minister in the long run, it won't cost him his head now. What you must not do is allow the wee shit to manoeuvre you out of the Executive. You're his biggest potential threat, and everyone knows that, but only if you're in office, so do us all a favour and bloody stay there.'
'Okay,' she acknowledged, grudgingly. 'I'll think about it.'
'No, just do it.'
'If that's what you really believe is best, I will.'
'I do, honest.'
'Right.' She sighed. 'You know, you don't sound surprised by any of this.'
Skinner chuckled. 'Sorry, Aileen, there's little or nothing you politicians can do to surprise me.'
'You can't be pleased by it, though.'
'No, I'm bloody livid, as the Lord Advocate is about to find out.'
'You're not going to call him, are you?'
'On the instant'
'Look, be careful. Don't do anything that'll put you in jeopardy.'
'I've been doing that for years, so don't worry about me. Now get some sleep.'
'Okay, I will. I'm off to my bed.' She took a breath. 'How's things, by the way?'
'If I knew I'd tell you. So long.'
'Good night.'
He hung up and turned to find Sarah looking at him. 'That was her, wasn't it?' she said. 'Aileen. And going by the conversation, that would be Aileen de Marco, the Justice Minister, wouldn't it?'
He nodded.
'Then we're done. I could tell by the way you talked to her: you used to speak to me like that'
He took two steps towards her and tried to put his hands on her shoulders, but she twisted away. 'Look,' he murmured, 'you're reading too much into it. I like her. She believes in the same things I do, and she's a member of a rare species, a politician who can make a difference. We bat for the same team, Aileen and me.'
Sarah snorted. 'Bob Skinner in bed with a politician; that's rich. Of course, she isn't the first, is she? There was that other one a few years ago.'
'Shut up, please,' he found himself begging.
'Yes, sir,' she hissed. 'You want to know the truth, Bob? There's only one of your mistresses that I can't stand, the one that I've never fought because I know I'll always lose, and that's your bloody job. You want to leave me for Aileen de Marco, fine. You want to have an affair with her and stay with me, fine. But God help her in the long run, for sooner or later she'll try to put herself above your job, and that'll be the end of her too.'
'So what do you want me to do?'
'Quit!' she shouted. 'How many times do I have to say it? That's what I'd like you to do to save our marriage. Resign from the force. You've given it all your adult life; now you owe your family some.'
He walked away from her and across to the wardrobe, going through his jacket pockets until he had found the palm-sized computer that she had given him for his most recent birthday. He switched it on and scrolled though the phone numbers stored there until he found the one he sought, then walked back to the phone, picked it up again and began to dial.
This time he had to wait much longer before his call was answered. This time, the voice on the other end sounded sodden with sleep. 'Grassick,' it croaked.
'Milton,' he barked. 'It's Bob Skinner here, and I'm hugely pissed off.'
'Do you know what time it is?' the Lord Advocate groaned.
'I don't give a damn what time it is. I'm a policeman and I'm concerned twenty-four hours a day when I hear of the law being broken. So should you be: you're supposed to be the head of our prosecution system, after all.'
'What do you mean?'
'You know bloody fine what I mean. I'm talking about the five terrorists we arrested last month. They've been charged with various counts of murder and attempted murder; you and I both know they're as guilty as sin. Now I hear you're letting Murtagh pack them off to the US, without any trial for those crimes.'
'Not the US,' Milton Grassick replied, wearily. 'Cuba. And there's no point in trying to interfere now: they were handed over to the Americans at midnight, and flown out of Turnhouse on a military jet.'
'Magic! So they'll be interrogated, without any legal or personal representation, and once that's done, they'll probably be stuck before a secret tribunal, then shot' Skinner drew breath, as if to keep his anger in check. 'The most appalling thing about this,' he went on, 'is that you're a Scottish law officer. You've got legal and constitutional duties and you've ignored them all. These people weren't just in your custody, they were in your care. They had a right to offer a defence against extradition, and they've been denied it.'
'There are great issues at work here,' Grassick protested.
'None of them greater than natural justice,' Skinner fired back. 'Is this what you went to the Bar to do, Milton? To subvert the law and ignore every human-rights accord ever signed? I know that when I took my oath of office it said bugger all about that. As my wife's just pointed out to me, I've spent my lifetime upholding a justice system that I believe in. Now I'm expected to sit on the sidelines and watch you and Murtagh piss all over it. No chance. I can't do anything about the First Miniature, but I can do something about you.'
'Such as?' The Lord Advocate summoned up a degree of belligerence.
'Such as make a citizen's formal complaint to the Dean of the Faculty of Advocates about your professional conduct. And you know what? Even if it's a token gesture, I think it might just be upheld. It might not mean your resignation, but it will for sure put a big barricade across your cushy road to a judge's robes. Sleep on that, mate.'
He slammed the phone back into its cradle and turned back to Sarah. 'With guys like him in office, you want me to quit?' he said, quietly. He stripped off his stained shirt and walked back out to the terrace. Settling back in his chair, he picked up his beer, drained it in a single gulp, then took another from the ice bucket and ripped it open.
She followed him out and sat beside him. 'I'm sorry about the scene,' she murmured, looking out at the quayside below.
He tossed a little beer towards her, splashing it on her white cotton top. 'There.' He grinned at her, gently. 'We're quits.'
'But are we really?' she asked.
He took another drink. 'No, I don't suppose we are. I can have a career and be a good father, Sarah. Most people can. Ask Alexis if she felt deprived as a child.'
'Very few people are as driven as you, Bob. You're hard to live with.'
'So hard I drove you into another man's bed?'
'No, that was different. I didn't do that out of pique.'
'Maybe you should have waited for him all those years ago: given the guy a chance to get football out of his system.'
'That would never have happened; Ron couldn't have kept that promise. He was as driven as you are in that respect. Once he'd finished playing it would have been coaching or the media, or whatever, but still the same
