bonnet of which was just visible. He had taken two steps when Skinner hit him, slamming into him with a rugby tackle and bearing him to the ground. Roughly, the DCC rol ed the man on to his face and drove a knee into the smal of his back, as he reached for his wrists, to secure them.
The girl's voice took him by surprise. 'What are you doing to my Daddy?' she cried.
68
'What have you done with him?' asked Alex.
'He's on his way back to England right now. Pamela and Sammy Pye are driving him and wee Sal y down to York. They'l be met at the police headquarters there by two officers from the Suffolk force.
They'l hand him over, stay overnight in York, and come back tomorrow morning.'
'Has he done this before, this Mr George?'
Martin shrugged. 'Once is too often for the court's liking. The custody arrangement in his divorce only al ows him one weekend a month, and he doesn't like it. He wanted to take his daughter on holiday for a week, but his ex-wife refused. So he turned up at her house yesterday evening, and grabbed the child.
'The mother went to court this morning, and the judge ordered his arrest for contempt. I feel a bit sorry for the guy real y. He's just a decent honest soul, a self-employed electrician who works on big projects. That's why his van was away for a few days at a time. The ex-wife's a lawyer, though, and she's got him tied up every way.'
Alex reached across the dining table and punched him lightly on the chin. 'Just you bear that in mind, then,' she laughed.
'Did Pops hurt him much, this poor chap?'
'Not really. He just knocked the wind out of him. He scared the wee girl though; he was a bit upset about that. It would have scared her more if big Neil had shot the bloke, though.'
'Why did he run?' she asked.
'He said that he was going round the side of the house to see who was at the door. When he saw Bob and Mcllhenney, pistol drawn, he panicked and tried to leg it.'
'And was it his cottage?'
'His dad's. His wife didn't know about it, apparently.'
Alex frowned. 'Poor sod. It's awful when couples get to that stage.
What'll happen to him, d'you think?'
'Ach, the Judge'11 probably keep him in custody for a week or two, then give him a bol ocking and let him go. Hopeful y, he'l review the custody deal while he's at it. I think the guy's got a grievance.'
He glanced at her, across the pizzas. 'Your dad's on his side too, of course. I only hope it doesn't come to that with him and Sarah.'
'It won't.'
'How can you be so sure?'
'I know my dad, that's how. And my step-mum too.'
'Mmm,' Andy mused. 'I miss Sarah, you know. Wonder how she's doing?'
'Or who. His name's Terry, I believe.'
'Eh?'
'So Pops told me.'
'Sarah wouldn't.'
She grinned at him again, even more widely than before. 'Maybe she wouldn't. Bloody sure I would though, in her shoes. You can store that away for future reference too.'
'Hey,' he asked her, 'are you trying to talk me out of this engagement?'
'Far from it,' she replied. 'I want to get married.'
His eyes widened with his smile. 'You do? When?'
'As soon as I've got my dad sorted out. Are you game?'
'Need you ask?' He rose drawing her to her feet also and pul ed her to him, kissing her, running his broad fingers through her abundant wavy hair.
She reached down for his belt buckle. 'Pizzas'11 get cold,' he murmured.
'Sod the pizzas.'
From time to time, Andy Martin could convince himself that al telephones show malice towards humans, especially in certain circumstances.
'Sod that!' he growled as it rang. Still, he picked it up.
As Alex watched him, his face grew grim. 'You sure?' he said. 'I see. No, it doesn't. Yes, I'l tell her. She'll have him there.'
He hung up, and turned to her. 'That wasAl Cheshire, keeping his word to me. He's fixed a meeting with the Lord Advocate, for ten o'clock tomorrow, and he wants Bob there. They've found something else, and he thinks that LordArchibald will be forced to place formal charges.'
69
'There's no doubt about this, is there? No chance that your expert could be wrong?'
Deputy Chief Constable Cheshire looked at the Lord Advocate solemnly. 'Sir, we've consulted the manufacturer of the machine. The company's chief design engineer himself will testify that the note which accompanied the deposit in the Guernsey bank was typed on an electric machine purchased five years ago by John Jackson Charles Automobiles Limited, a typewriter seized subsequently by the police during a raid on premises owned by Mr and Mrs Charles.
'Since the day when it was impounded, by Mr Skinner and Sergeant Neil Mcllhenney, it has been under lock and key in the production store at Fettes Avenue. Mr Skinner may argue in his defence that someone found their way into his office to hide the Guernsey receipt in his desk. But to argue that the same person broke into the production store, found that machine among thousands of items, plugged it in and typed the note… I'm sorry, My Lord, but that is surely stretching credulity.'
Lord Archibald gazed at Skinner across his desk. The detective stared back, impassively.
'I'm sorry, Bob,' he said. 'And I have to say that I'm hugely disappointed. Are you stil maintaining your innocence?'
Skinner gave no answer, nor made any movement.
'Mmm,' said Archibald. 'You'd better say nothing anyway. Look, David Pettigrew, the Fiscal is in the next room. He will caution and charge you, formal y. There will be no announcement from this office, but you wil appear in the Sheriff Court tomorrow to be formal y remanded.
'There'l be no plea taken and of course you'l be released on a simple ordination to appear at a later hearing, but at the pleading diet, it'll be for the Sheriff to decide whether bail should be allowed.
I think it's inevitable that the case will be sent to the High Court for disposal.'
He turned back to Cheshire and Ericson. 'You two. Get up to Perth right away and see the man Charles again. I'd like to proceed against him, but I don't have a prospect of success. So, tell him what we've got and see if he'll agree to be a Crown witness, with immunity.'
Mitchell Laidlaw stirred in his seat chair. 'Archie, may I…'
The Lord Advocate anticipated the rest of the question. 'Yes,' he said. 'You may interview Charles also, separately. But I mean you, and you alone. Not Bob, under any circumstances, and not Alex either.'
He rose, ending the meeting. 'Now, let's get Pettigrew in here and start putting this most unfortunate business to rest.'
