As I looked at her, I recalled how I’d got myself involved with her. In the workplace, Dottie is not one of those sparkly women, and I’d decided that my mission in life was going to be to make her laugh. When I succeeded, after a couple of post-shift drinks, I found that there was another side to her.
‘Hey,’ I said, quietly, ‘will you fucking lighten up on yourself, woman.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘You can talk, George. You were the one who got all uptight on me, remember? And it stuck, so it seems; look at you now, Mr Serious. What makes you think you can tell me to. .’ And then she remembered. ‘Oh, George. Shit, listen to me; you of all people can do that. I’m sorry, love, I forgot.’
She forgot? She fucking forgot? Lucky her.
‘You poor man,’ she exclaimed, but I stopped her in her tracks with an upraised hand.
‘Please don’t, Dot. This is where I work and I don’t bring that here. I said you should lighten up because you were sounding more than a wee bit paranoid there. Maggie Steele is evidence that the ceiling’s smashed, and as for her blocking your promotion, that’s plain daft. Our moves had sod all to do with her; they’re down to the big man, and he’s not holding you back as I see it. You’re going to work with Fred Leggat. He’s about three coughs and a spit off retirement and when he goes that opens up a DCI slot. Who’s going to get that?’
‘Becky Stallings, probably,’ she said, gloomily.
I laughed. ‘Becky? She thinks Edinburgh’s the countryside. No way will she get a rural job.’
She looked at me over her reading glasses, doubtfully. ‘You sure about that?’
‘Certain of it, so brighten up.’
‘Okay, if you say so.’ She paused. ‘How’s life anyway, if I’m allowed to ask?’
‘I’d rather you didn’t; you probably read my vetting report anyway.’ Her eyes flickered and I knew she had. ‘How’s yours?’
‘Private life?’ I nodded. ‘Crap, since you ask. My man got bumped by his bank and left town for a job in Hong Kong, without as much as a goodbye dinner. Four years down the pan. Some pair, aren’t we?’
‘At least we’re not security risks. Come on, brief me on the job and I’ll buy you a drink when we’re done.’
By the end of the afternoon she had brought me up to speed on the dark and mysterious ways of the Branch, which turned out to be more routine than anything else. There were no major crises, and the threat level was officially ‘substantial’, mid-point in the five grades. ‘It’s hardly ever below that these days,’ she said. She also gave me a list of contacts in SB offices in other forces, and in the security services. These were locked in a wall safe; she showed me how to change the combination, then turned her back as I did so.
She turned down the drink afterwards; I was quietly pleased about that, as I’d regretted the offer as soon as I’d made it. Instead we arranged to meet the next morning at Dalkeith, to go through the same process in the other direction.
I broke the news to Lisa McDermid, in a bizarre cross-purposes discussion. . when I asked her to come into my room, she got the wrong idea. . as soon as I got back to Dalkeith, and so she was gone when I got there next morning, to brief Shannon. Fred Leggat wasn’t, though. He was in his office and his face was tripping him, as I’d half expected. He was cruising and hadn’t planned on breaking in a new support team in his last few months in office, but I managed to persuade him that Dottie would hit the ground running.
I got back to Fettes by mid-morning, to find Lisa and Tarvil in conversation in the outer office, and a summons from the chief waiting for me on my new desk.
‘Did Shannon brief you on the Varley situation?’ he asked, as soon as I was through his door.
‘Yes, sir, she did.’
‘Did it come as a surprise?’
Skinner is good at bouncing the unexpected at his colleagues. I suppose the time it takes them to respond tells them how sure they are of their answers. ‘Not as much as it might have,’ I replied, quickly. I’d asked myself the same question the afternoon before. ‘I was in the same office as Jock about eight years ago. I don’t know why, but I didn’t take to him. He struck me as a guy who always wanted to know more than he’d let on.’
‘Yeah,’ he murmured. ‘Have you ever heard of Freddy Welsh?’
‘I know nothing about him,’ I confessed, ‘other than he’s a general builder and contractor, in quite a big way.’
‘Yes,’ he nodded, ‘and now we need to know more. Dottie and Tarvil had a look at him yesterday, but only to check out his background and contacts. I’d like you to go a bit deeper. Maybe I’m wrong, but I can’t see a well-set- up guy like Welsh being personally involved in something as small time as fag smuggling. That said, he wasn’t going to meet Kenny Bass for a tip on the three-thirty at Lingfield. So what was it about? Put McDermid on to it; she isn’t known around town. See if she picks up any hints.’
‘Yes, sir. What about Bass?’ I asked. ‘Is he saying anything?’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Take a guess?’
‘How about, “Who’s Freddy Welsh?” Is that close?’
‘Right on the money, George, right on the money.’
‘Sauce’ Haddock
Most of the time, when someone begins a sentence with ‘I have to say. .’ what it really means is, ‘I’m going to say. . whether you like it or not.’
I probably shouldn’t say that I was beginning to get very fond of the chief constable’s ex-wife, but I will. . regardless. I don’t mean that I fancied her. If I did I would definitely keep that to myself. No, I liked her, pure and simple. I could tell that Jack had reservations about her but I found her bold and provocative, things I like in a person, and I could detect no side to her, none of the aloof superiority that cops, and particularly young ones like me, often encounter in our dealings with those my mum calls ‘members of the professions’. She was friendly and had treated me as an equal in every encounter we’d had.
‘What are those?’ I asked her after she’d finished describing Mortonhall Man’s last meal.
‘Classic kosher dishes,’ she replied. ‘Jewish food, as approved by ritual and the local rabbi. One of the few things I miss about New York City are the delis.’
‘Are there any of those in Edinburgh?’
‘There’s the Viareggio chain,’ she pointed out, ‘but they’re Italian. There are no kosher ones that I know of, but they’re not places I’ve ever looked for over here.’
‘His last meal,’ I continued. ‘Would it have been homemade?’
‘Possibly,’ she conceded. ‘If you can trace kosher-approved suppliers in the area, you might get a lead to him.’
‘How about kosher restaurants? Are there many in Edinburgh?’
‘From memory,’ she murmured, ‘I think there’s only one. . and it’s entirely vegetarian, so you wouldn’t get chicken broth there, or stuffed fish either.’
‘What about the matzoh balls?’
‘Nor them; there’s egg in the recipe. Hey,’ she laughed, ‘did you hear about the blonde who thought the matzoh was an endangered species?’
I was still grinning when I put the phone down.
‘Who’s made your day?’ the boss called to me.
‘Dr Grace, the pathologist.’
‘What were you talking about?’
‘Circumcision.’
Even Jack reacted to that. ‘You what?’ he exclaimed. ‘With the chief’s ex?’
‘I’m not kidding,’ I told him. ‘She gave me a lecture on the subject: not how it’s done, but who has it. Are you circumcised?’ I asked him.
‘Mind your own fucking business. What are you asking me that for?’
‘Call it a statistical survey. More people are than you’d imagine.’
‘Ray is,’ Becky volunteered.
McGurk actually started to turn pink. ‘Can we leave DI Wilding’s tackle out of this, please,’ he moaned. ‘If you
