'Excuse me, Bob.'
Skinner turned to see the force press officer standing before him. 'Alan, what can I do for you?'
'I've got an army of media outside, all wanting to talk to you. Do you want me to set something up? I could use the gym.'
'No way,' the DCC replied, firmly. 'We're not talking to any journalists, not even old John Hunter. Get rid of them. I don't care whether you're polite about it or not. And tell them also that if anyone is thinking about camping outside my house, or Neil's or Bandit's, they should reject it as a very bad idea indeed.'
'Maybe I shouldn't say this, but do you have any idea how much the media would pay for your stories?' asked Royston. 'You could live on it.'
'We couldn't live with ourselves, though,' said McIlhenney. 'So please, Alan, do as you're told.'
As the press officer left, Skinner pointed to the two strangers. 'Who are they?'
'She's Martina Easterland; she's the Scottish representative of the Royal Household. He's from MI6; he says he wants to debrief us. He says that you and Bandit and I have got to stay here when everyone else leaves.'
'Indeed?' The DCC looked at the man until he caught his eye, then summoned him like a schoolboy, with a crooked finger. 'Are you the director general of MI5?' he asked him.
'No,' he replied, startled.
'In that case, you can go away. He's the only person I'm talking to.'
'You'll get the chance,' the man said, almost pouting with displeasure. 'He's on his way up.'
'Tonight?'
'As we speak.'
Skinner smiled, wryly. 'That doesn't surprise me. You will not be involved in our meeting, so you can take the advice I've just given you.'
'Five is compromised; I insist that you speak to me first.'
'Listen,' the DCC barked. 'I'm a tired, angry man with a warrant card in his pocket and a gun on his hip. Who are you to argue with me? Now fuck off!'
His voice had risen as he spoke. Sir James Proud and Aileen de Marco, the only other people left in the room, looked round anxiously. The intelligence officer looked to the chief constable for support, but he simply jerked his thumb in the general direction of the door.
'Hold on a minute,' exclaimed Skinner, suddenly. 'On second thoughts, you stay here.' He turned to McIlhenney. 'Are Bandit and Jack McGurk still around? If they are, bring them here.'
The chief inspector left, and returned, seconds later, with his two colleagues. 'Gentlemen,' the DCC ordered, grabbing the MI6 operative by the shoulder. 'Take this man away, examine his credentials, then detain him until I'm ready to question him.'
'You can't do that,' the stranger protested.
'Sure I can. Hold your arms out wide. Guys, frisk him.'
With Sir James Proud and the Justice Minister looking on, the two detectives patted the man down. McGurk reached his trouser pocket and stopped, reached in and removed a tiny automatic pistol. 'Let me guess,' Skinner laughed, 'you're just looking after that for your wife.'
'I'm an officer of the intelligence service,' the man protested.
'You're also under arrest for illegal possession of a firearm.' He took out his Glock and waved it under his nose. 'Mine's legal, you see; properly signed out from our store. Bandit, Jack, cuff this guy and lock him up.'
'You can't do this!'
'If you have a problem with reality, try closing your eyes and pretending nothing's happening.'
He watched, smiling, as McGurk stripped the man's belt from its loops and used it to tie his wrists together, then, with Mackenzie on his other side, marched him out of the door.
'It's always exciting around you, isn't it?' said McIlhenney, drily, when they were alone once more.
Skinner sighed, mournfully. 'I really wish it wasn't, mate,' he murmured.
'Would you like to know what's happening back in the real world?' the DCI asked. 'You've had a few phone calls this evening, but only three of significance. One was from Alex; I've called her and assured her that you're okay. Another was from Sarah: she's home. That one, I left for you to handle on your own. The third was from Stevie Steele. You'll want to talk to him.'
'Okay. You and Bandit make yourselves scarce while you can. I'll wake the boy and Maggie from their slumbers.' He headed for the door. 'Aileen, once you and the chief are finished, I'll be in my office. Where's Lena?'
'Gone on ahead. She's being given a lift home in a police car.'
He stepped across the hall and into his own room; before switching on the light he drew the curtains, to avoid being filmed or photographed by the cameras outside. As soon as he was settled he took off his holster and opened his safe, put the gun inside, took out a brown foolscap envelope, and locked it once more. He took a beer from his fridge. As he was opening it, Aileen came into the room. He handed it to her and took another.
'What was all that about just now?' she asked, as she pulled one of the visitor chairs round to sit beside him.
'It's what can happen when you piss me off'
She laughed, then looked at him. 'Did you mean what you said, back on the road, or were you talking to someone else?'
'I was talking to you, and I meant it. Want me to say it again?'
'Yes, please.'
'I love you. Now you.'
She leaned over and kissed him. 'I love you too… and I never had anyone else to talk to.'
'Are you happy about it?' he asked her.
'Happy about loving you? How could I be anything else?'
'I'm an obsessive, driven guy, you know, plus I'm married. Most people would say you were asking for trouble.'
'I'm driven too, remember, and when it comes to social justice, yes, I'm obsessive. Why do you ask the question? Didn't you want to fall in love with me?'
He smiled. 'It doesn't make my life less complicated but, yes, I reckon I'm ready for it. I'm still numb from the things I've seen and done tonight, so it's difficult for me to talk about happiness right now, but I've worked out what I feel for you, and it's good.'
'Will you leave your wife? Don't get me wrong,' she added quickly, 'I'm not asking you to. I'll love you from afar if it comes to it'
He reached out and squeezed her hand. 'Let me deal with that, then tell you how it's going to be. Meanwhile, Minister, you've got a big day tomorrow. You've got to present Mr Murtagh's bloody Police Bill to the Parliament, a task I know you're anticipating with relish.'
She showed him her best sour expression. 'I'm not so sure about that any more. I went along with it to protect you as much as anything else. After tonight, you'll be beyond Tommy's reach; maybe the whole police service will be for a while. A very public resignation tomorrow morning is back on my list of options.'
He tossed her the envelope. 'There's some briefing for your speech. Read it, while I make a call.'
He picked up the phone and dialled. He knew Steele well enough not to be surprised that he was still awake and that the call was answered quickly.
'Stevie? DCC, what have you got for me?'
'A new suspect, sir.'
'So go and pick him up; interview him.'
'It's not that simple, boss. He's Patsy Aikenhead's brother.'
'I don't care if he's Charlie's bloody Aunt, lift him.'
'Patsy Aikenhead's birth name was Cleopatra Murtagh.'
'What? Say that again, just in case I imagined it.'
'My suspect is Tommy Murtagh, sir. He's the right age, he's fit and he's formidably strong. He doesn't quite fit Miss Bee's height profile, but it was a split-second sighting. I've spoken to her again and she acknowledges that she could have been wrong.'
Skinner inhaled, deeply. Aileen, who had barely begun to read, stopped and looked at him. He motioned her
