Bankers, lawyers, accountants, even a certain deputy Fiscal. The professions are well represented at the Hot Spot saunas, that's for sure. But today. . today could be very interesting indeed. Cocozza's in there himself, and four other guys have gone in while we've been watching. Once of them we recognised.'

`Tall, well built, smooth-looking guy, late thirties, went in about fifteen minutes ago. Yes?'

`Him? No. Never seen him before in my life. No, I was talking about Eddie Gilhooley. You've heard of him, haven't you? The Godfather of Glasgow. Tony Manson's opposite number through in the west. A premier-league drug baron, if ever there was one. So who's this other guy? And what's your problem?'

Mackie took a deep breath. 'Paul Ainscow. Maggie Rose followed him here from Stirling. She's back there.' He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. 'We've got him under round-the-clock watch for the boss. He thinks he's-'

Martin interrupted. 'Yes, Sarah told me all about it. So that's Mr Ainscow. He keeps some funny company, then. Wonder what the hell he's doing here?'

`Aye, and the boss'll wonder too. You don't know who the other guys are?'

'No. We should have some pretty good mug-shots though. We'll get them processed as fast as we can, and run them through the PNC. Could you take the film back to the lab for me?'

`Sure. I'll tell them it's a SB rush job. I'll do the PNC check, too.'

`Thanks,' said Martin. 'Meantime I'll go along and say hello to Maggie. Odd job for a woman, isn't it, sitting all evening in Powderhall Road waiting for your subject to get his end away!'

Fifty-eight

‘You on your usual, Brian?'

`Aye, thanks, Andy.'

Martin turned back to the barman. 'That's another pint shandy, please.' He waited while the last drink was poured, paid the barman, and carried the round across, on a tray, to the corner table where Maggie Rose, Mario McGuire, Alison Higgins and the newly arrived Brian Mackie were waiting. Ryrie's, the famous Haymarket tavern, was a regular meeting place for police officers. It was only a few hundred yards away from the Torphichen Place Divisional HQ, and coincidentally, from Andy Martin's flat.

`So, Neil's taken over the Ainscow surveillance?' asked Mackie.

`Yes,' said Martin. 'He volunteered. Said he'd take him home and put him to bed. Apparently his wife's having her pals round tonight, so he was glad of something to do. You okay with that, Brian?'

`Sure. Glad to be of help.

`Okay. So how d'you do with our snapshots? Anything back from the PNC scan? I thought you were looking a bit pleased with yourself when you came in.

Mackie grinned. 'I've got every right. And so have you, Superintendent. We've got results on both your mystery men. Tell me, did you see them leave?'

`Yes. They went not long after you. A taxi stopped at the sauna. Gilhooley and the two unknowns went off in it. Then wee Cocozza came out and drove off in his GSi.'

`What about Ainscow?'

Martin shook his head. 'No. He was still inside when Maggie and I left. Maybe he had nothing to do with the rest of them. Maybe he was only there to get his leg over.'

`Be a blow if he was. The boss would just love to tie Ainscow in with Gilhooley and those other two. I think it could be a hell of a big piece in the jigsaw he's putting together.'

`So who were these guys?'

Mackie smiled again round all the faces at the table. They looked back at him, curious, as he savoured the moment of his disclosure.

`Okay. You ready? One's called Peter McAteer. He's from Newcastle. The other one is Terence Michael Bennett. He's from Manchester. According to the PNC, each one is to his own city what Eddie Gilhooley is to Glasgow, and what Tony Manson was to Edinburgh — Mr Big in the drugs business. You, Superintendent, in what I am sure you will describe later as a brilliant piece of detection, have stumbled upon a drug dealers' convention.

Martin looked at him, his green eyes wide with surprise. ‘Jesus Christ,' he whispered. 'And Cocozza was there. Not only that, he was the host. God, but the wee bugger's getting above himself, playing with the likes of them. He must really fancy taking over Tony's seat at the big table. But what the hell was your man Ainscow doing there?'

`Beats me. As you said, maybe that was just a coincidence.'

Martin nudged him with an elbow. 'Look out that window, thin man, and you will see a pig in a Hibernian strip flying over Haymarket. Coincidence, my arse. You've been around Big Bob long enough to know what he thinks of them. Coincidences of that sort are like miracles. They happen very rarely, or not at all. I'd love to hear what the boss says to this.'

`I'll hear that the day after tomorrow. I'm meeting him. The Big Man's taking me on a tour of the fleshpots of Europe.'

`What?' said Maggie Rose. 'When did all this happen?' There was a tinge of annoyance in her tone, as though she felt slighted at not being the first to know of her boss's return.

`S'all right, Maggie,' said Mackie. 'It all came up while you were out following Ainscow. We're going to Germany — to Hamburg — to follow up a lead that the Ainscow inquiry threw up today. Then we're off to Amsterdam. Don't know what that's about, though, other than that it's all part of the same investigation.' He leaned back in his chair and took a deep swallow of his shandy. 'After that, he's coming home.

Beside him, Martin was lost in thought. He shook his head. `I still can't get over that meeting, or Cocozza being the host. The nerve of the bastard. Those hooligans on my patch. Christ, I'm going to have him. From tomorrow morning, Cocozza's on twenty-four-hour cover. He yawns — I know it. Just like Ainscow. Let's see if they meet up again.' He looked across the table. 'Alison, I'm going to be tight for people. I don't suppose.

Superintendent Higgins grinned at the big figure on her right. 'Sergeant McGuire's bloody useless, I know, but you can have him if you like.'

`That's good. Thanks.' He glanced to his left. 'Maggie, would you make up the numbers till the boss gets back?'

Of course. Be just like old times.'

Martin glanced at his watch. 'Right, that's fixed. My office eight o'clock tomorrow. Now I've got to go. Dinner must be nearly ready.' He finished his Beck's and stood up.

Brian Mackie looked at him curiously. 'You not doing your own cooking any more, Andy?'

Martin returned his gaze with a bland smile. 'Brian, my friend, you're letting Special Branch go to your head. You should leave the detecting for the office, not the pub. G'night all.'

Fifty-nine

The blonde girl's pale blue eyes sparkled a welcome as Pujol — with Skinner following behind — walked into the offices of Montgo SA.

`Buenos Dias, senores.'

`Habla Ingles, por favor?' asked the Commandante, explaining, ‘Por mi amigo.' He was dressed as casually as Skinner, in light slacks and a pale blue shirt.

She smiled. 'Yes, and French also.

Pujol was charmed. But he began to feel a pang of concern over the purpose of their visit.

Skinner had received his call on the heels of Mackie's fax advising him of his flight and arrival times, and briefing him on the merging at Powderhall of Mackie's surveillance with that conducted by Andy Martin. As he read

Вы читаете Skinner's trail
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату