He handed over the white handset.
‘This is Aileen de Marco,’ he heard her begin; then add, a few seconds later, ‘Gavin, you’re not one of my regular callers. What can I do for you?’
Although she had never asked him to, Bob preferred to leave her to make her business calls in private; he strolled outside, on to the terrace, and waited. Almost fifteen minutes later, she came out to rejoin him. Her expression was troubled.
‘What’s set my Lord Advocate’s wig spinning?’ he asked her.
‘You have, or at least your force has. Gavin Johnson’s new in the job, even newer than I am in mine, so he’s anxious not to stand on anyone’s toes. He’s got the Crown Agent up in arms. Apparently, there was a report on the Daniel Ballester murders, by your force, to the Crown Office. It led to the inquiry being closed. Now we’ve got this new killing in Edinburgh. It bears a strong similarity to some of the others and Neil McIlhenney’s insisting that the Agent. . What’s his name again?’
‘Dowley. Joe Dowley.’
‘That’s it. Neil wants the Crown Office to have a leak inquiry, and Dowley is having none of it.’
‘What do you mean, having none of it?’ Bob demanded.
‘I’m quoting Gavin Johnson.’
‘But we’re entitled to ask him to do that.’
‘Dowley says you’re not, that his office is at the top of the pyramid.’
‘I always knew that man was a fool.’
‘He’s an adamant fool, though. When Neil stood his ground, he phoned Sir James at home and, again according to Gavin, he was told to eff off.’
Bob winced. ‘He must have riled him: that’s not the chief’s style.’ He frowned. ‘I’ll bet that’s what’s behind it, this sudden decision of his to go. He’s had enough of intransigent idiots interrupting his private life. What’s Johnson doing about it? Why’s he bothering you?’
Aileen wrinkled her nose. ‘I think he’s a bit afraid of the Crown Agent.’
‘I’m not,’ Bob growled. ‘I’ll deal with the bastard.’
‘Gavin’s afraid of that too. He’s asked me to persuade you to back off.’
‘Jesus! What did you tell him?’
‘That I couldn’t possibly interfere in an operational police matter.’
‘But, still, you’ve been caught in the middle of this. Aileen, I can’t tell Neil to walk away. Apart from the loss of face involved, the guy’s right. If we don’t eliminate the possibility of a leak within the Crown Office, we could have an investigation with a big hole in it. Dowley should never have got involved.’
‘But he did, and now he’s threatening to resign, publicly, if he’s overruled.’
‘And now,’ said Bob, ‘he’ll know that Johnson’s spoken to you, so if I persist and he does resign, he could well claim that by staying out of it, you took my side against him: or, worse, that I told you to stay out of it. I can’t let any of that happen.’
‘We’re not going to let him win, though. Are we?’
He fell silent. He sat on a lounger and gazed into the pool until, finally, he shook his head. ‘No,’ he declared, ‘we’re not. Here’s what we’re going to do.’
Twenty-six
Andy Martin scowled across the desk at Detective Chief Superintendent Rod Greatorix, the Tayside force’s head of CID. ‘You can’t be serious,’ he said.
‘I can,’ the detective replied. ‘I wish I wasn’t, but I was there and I witnessed the whole fucking shambles. I was ready, the other police witnesses were ready, the pathologists were there, the jury was empanelled and in place, and the judge was on the bench. The only thing that was fucking empty was the dock. The prisoner wasn’t with us.’
‘Where the hell was he?’
‘In Edinburgh, in a cell, in the remand section of Saughton Prison. Somebody in the Crown Office got the dates mixed up. They had the trial down to begin next Wednesday, not this morning.’
‘Who was the judge?’
‘Lady Broughton, one of the new ones. Remember? She used to be Phyllis Davidson, QC.’
‘I know Phil. How did she react?’
‘Like the lady she is. When Herman Butters, the Advocate Depute, finally stood up, half an hour late, and said that he wasn’t ready to proceed, and wouldn’t be until tomorrow morning, she just smiled at him, and said, “That is unfortunate, isn’t it? In that case, we all might as well go home.” You should have seen the look of relief on wee Butters’s face, until she dropped the bomb, that is.’
‘What bloody bomb?’
‘Butters asked her if she wanted to start early tomorrow, to make up time, and she said, “You misunderstand me. The case is deserted, pro loco et tempore. The jury is discharged.” Then she thanked them all for their service, short though it had been, as she put it. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Grandpa McCullough’s counsel, Sally Mathewson, stood up and asked that her client be formally acquitted and released.’
‘He wasn’t, was he? Don’t tell me that.’
‘No, Phil was too smart for that. She pointed out that what she had done didn’t amount to an acquittal, and that the Crown could bring the case back to court. But she did say that he could have bail until they were ready to do that.’
Martin pushed himself out of his chair and stepped towards the window of his office. ‘Bloody hell,’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s taken you. . what?. . more than half of your career to nail McCullough for something serious, and now he’s out on the street. We’ll have to lock the key witnesses up, or they’ll both wind up as dead as the guy he killed.’
Greatorix held up a hand, as if in reassurance. ‘It’s okay. It’s not as bad as that. Remember, we’re proceeding with the murder charge separately from the Class A possession indictment. I had him rearrested on that so he never got out of Saughton.’
‘Thank Christ for small mercies, Rod. Have you told the chief?’
‘He’s not back from his meeting yet. If I know him he’ll want to write to the Solicitor General. Black day for wee Butters, eh?’
‘Too right.’ Martin snorted. ‘I’ve got a feeling that he’ll spend the rest of his stint as a prosecutor in places like Wick, Dumfries and Ayr. Maybe even Lerwick, if they can find a reason to have the High Court sit up there.’
‘It can’t be far enough away,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘See you later.’
The deputy chief constable returned to his desk with mixed emotions, a small part of him wanting to laugh at the farcical scene that had played out in court, the rest appalled by the consequences that might have flowed from the prosecution’s mistake, but for Greatorix’s quick thinking. Knowing that Graham Morton, his chief constable, would consult him about a formal complaint to the Solicitor General, he began to draft a letter. It was almost complete when his assistant opened his door.
‘I’ve got Sir James Proud on the line, sir,’ he said. ‘He’d like a word.’
‘Then put him through,’ Martin replied at once. ‘Chief,’ he said, as he heard the click of the connection.
‘Not for much longer, son.’
‘So I hear. Nine months, is it?’
‘Less than nine weeks. I’ve moved the date forward. Mind you, as of this moment, you, Bob and my human-resources director are the only three people outside my house who know.’ He paused. ‘But maybe not. I imagine that Bob has had a heart to heart with his lady by now.’
‘Has he said whether he’ll apply?’
‘No, but I believe that he’ll be told to.’
‘And she must be obeyed?’
‘No again, unless she’s right, as she usually is.’
‘You know that if he does apply, I won’t?’
‘I guessed as much. That’ll be your decision, Andy. I’d respect it either way.’
‘Thanks, Chief,’ said Martin. ‘And thanks for letting me know too. I appreciate that. I’ll look forward to your leaving do.’
‘Ah, but that’s not the only reason I called.’ A new, mysterious tone came into Sir James’s voice. ‘I want to make you a formal request, one of the last I’ll make in office, so if you turn me down you’ll feel really guilty about it.’