his time, and he kidnaps Mark. Not Skinner's son, but a surrogate.'
Pamela touched his arm. 'But why kill the mother?'
He turned and looked at her. 'Not Sarah, but a surrogate,' he said, quietly, then paused. 'What do you think of the proposition, Chief Superintendent? Sergeant?'
Martin frowned, then rose from the table. 'Let me think about it for a minute,' he said, moving towards the living room. 'Pam,' he smiled over his shoulder. 'How about some more coffee? You are on my staff, after al.'
'Yes sir,' she said smartly, as Skinner fol owed his friend out of the kitchen.
In the other room, Martin was waiting, his smile gone. 'Bob, I accept your theory. Not as a main line of investigation, perhaps, but as a credible scenario. However, should you be right, have you thought of another implication which flows from it?'
'What's that?'
The younger man paused. 'The proposition that Leona might have been attacked instead of Sarah. After this weekend's publicity, if that is true, the killer has a new target.' He jerked a thumb towards the kitchen.
Skinner's face darkened. 'Whistling Christ, Andy, you're right!'
He nodded, absently, to himself. 'From now on, she'd better not leave my side.' And then, like sunlight over a field as a cloud blows away, his expression changed as a new thought came to him.
'Unless,' he said, his voice rising. 'He's already using Pam to hurt me. Think of it. For the past few months she's hardly been out of my sight while we've been off duty, or out of yours while she's been at work. In reality, that would make her an even tougher target than Sarah orAlex. But suppose, my enemy's been watching me, he's seen the two of us together, and made the connection.'
'Yes,' said Martin, comprehending, racing alongside Skinner's thinking. 'We know al about Salmon and his story, but we don't know his source. Suppose the kidnapper tipped off Salmon, put him on your trail.'
'That figures, Andy. The wee bastard's never had a decent exclusive 52 of his own before. He could even have used it to land his job on the Spotlight.'
'And something else,' added the Chief Superintendent. 'Salmon cal ed you tonight, and so did the kidnapper; both on your ex-directory number. Is it possible that the kidnapper gave Salmon the number?'
It had become a game now, one they had often played before, chasing an idea, worrying at it, throwing in possibilities, adding tints and colours until a picture emerged. Skinner beamed. 'Or did Salmon give it to him,' he asked, 'even without knowing why he would use it?'
His friend shook his head. 'Don't let's stop there, Bob? Let's give that slimeball the benefit of no doubt at al. Or did Salmon know why he would use it?'
'I couldn't believe that,' said Skinner, doubtful y, 'not even of him.'
'Neither do I,' said Martin, as Pamela came into the room carrying a cafetiere, 'but it gives us all the reason we need, and more, to arrest the wee bastard. And in the process to leak – accidentally of course
– the name of the man who's assisting us with our investigation of a murder and kidnap.'
Bob threw back his big grey-mopped head and laughed, heartily, for what seemed to each of the others to be the first time in an age.
'Oh yes,' he chuckled. 'I'm going to love that. Especially when I play my tape back to him.'
Andy and Pamela stared at him. 'What tape?' asked Martin.
'Something even you didn't know, mate… and, incidental y, which the pair of you stil don't know, even after tonight.
'It's an open secret now that, as the Secretary of State's security adviser, I'm part of MI5. But the fact that all MIS officers' home phones are tapped: that's a very closed secret indeed!'
He punched Martin gently on the shoulder. 'Let's nick him, pal. I suggest that you have McGuire do it: he's hard enough to frighten stone, and besides, being lifted by Special Branch always concent!. ites the mind.' He smiled, as an afterthought came to him. 'Tel Mario to take Mcl henney with him, just for added effect.
'Have them pick him up, tomorrow morning, over breakfast. Then you and McGuire chew him around good and proper. Lean on him, pressure him for the name of the person who gave him my unlisted number. Let him think we're after him for bribery; don't tell him about the kidnapper's cal.
'I want to spring that on him myself. After an hour or two, I'l come in and play my tape. I can't wait to see the look on his face when I ask him to convince us that he isn't in cahoots with a kil er.'
Martin nodded. 'Okay, save for one thing. I don't think it would be wise – or even proper – for you to take part in any interview with Salmon. You've got a personal involvement with him and a very public grudge against him. I'l play your tape to him, don't worry about that.'
The big DCC grunted. 'Yes, I suppose you're right. It's a pity though. I really want to see that wee sod piss his pants.'
16
The building in which Salmon's flat was located was a dingy affair, in a part of Leith which seemed to have escaped the process of yuppification by which much of the old port has been transformed.
The door to the street was unsecured and the wide, dusty stairway smelled strongly of urine.
'Jesus Christ, Mario,' muttered Mcllhenney. 'Places like this make a case for more public lavvies.'
Mario McGuire shook his dark Latin head. 'People who pish up closes wil always pish up closes, you know that.' He paused, and grinned. 'What happened to the 'sir' by the way?'
'Fuck off, Inspector. That's for when there are people around. Don't let this SB stuff go to your heid. I suppose you cal your wife 'ma'am' al the time, eh?'
'What else would I call a senior officer? You know DCI Rose: she's a stickler for formality. 'Excuse me, ma'am, would you please pass the marmalade.' That's normal across our breakfast table. Or
'Excuse me, ma'am, is there any chance of a shag?' That's for after dinner.'
The big sergeant chuckled. 'It's lucky you're not in Admin, then, or you'd have to fill out a requisition.'
'Aye,' said McGuire, laughing himself. 'Another fuckin' chitty!'
'Married life's agreeing with you, then?' said Mcllhenney, as they climbed the dirty stairs, away from the rankness of the street level.
'To my slight surprise, it is. I'l tel you, as an old pal, I was a wee bit scared when we tied the knot. The Italian side of my lineage isn't big on divorce. I needn't have worried though. Mags is one in a million.
'We're a couple of lucky bastards, you and I, Neil. All those fish in the sea yet I land her, and you land Olive; exceptional women both of them.'
The Sergeant nodded thoughtful y. 'It's true what you say; about my Olive too,' he said at last. 'Exceptional. Out of every million fish or so, you can expect to find a Great White Shark.'
'Aw come on, Neil,' McGuire protested. 'You can kid the rest of them, but not me. I remember those Sunday lunches Olive used to cook for me when I was young, free and single. And I 55 remember she had you eating them out of her hand.'
Mcl henney shrugged his shoulders and smiled, sheepishly. 'Fair enough,' he chuckled, 'but don't tell anyone else, okay. I've got her image to protect, ken.'
In the seconds of silence which fol owed, as they climbed past the second floor, scanning the nameplate on each door, his smile faded.
'It's a shame about the Big Man though, Mario, isn't it?' he said at last.
'Depends what you mean,' replied McGuire. 'I know a few guys would give their back teeth to be banging Pam Masters. It's a shame about them being al over the papers though…
'As this guy Salmon's going to find out,' he added, grimly.
'No,' countered the Sergeant. 'I mean it's a shame about him and Sarah. I thought that pair were set for life. I just can't imagine what happened to split them up.'
'Him bangin' Pam Masters could have had just a wee bit to do with it!'
'Maybe now it could, but I'm pretty certain that didn't start til after they separated. There was some other reason for him moving out when he did. Don't know what it was, though.'
McGuire drew a deep breath as they reached the fourth, and top, floor of the tenement building. 'Did you
