‘Including Bob Skinner?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Are you going to go for it?’
‘I dunno. What do you think?’
‘It’s a big job, high profile. A few years in there and you’d be favourite for the Strathclyde chief’s job when it comes up again. . and that’s the biggest of the lot.’
‘That’s if there is a Strathclyde.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Karen, intrigued.
He looked at her. ‘Within these glass walls. . there’s a rumour that the Executive might consider merging all the Scottish forces and creating a single national constabulary.’ He paused. ‘Only it isn’t a rumour; it’s true. Aileen de Marco’s asked Bob to do a feasibility study, highly confidential, her eyes only. That’s how he’s spent a lot of his sabbatical. He’s done a potential command structure already. It stands up. I know because I’ve seen it; Bob’s been taking soundings among those senior colleagues he can trust to keep it to themselves. If it happens, it’ll even swallow the SCDEA; that’s part of the plan. It might still exist as a unit, but there would be no need for it to be a separate agency; its commander would report to the new commissioner.’
‘Commissioner? As in the Metropolitan?’
Andy nodded. ‘Yup. Bob’s thinking is that if this is to happen it’s best if the old structure changes completely. The posts of chief constable, deputy and assistants would disappear, or at least the titles would. There would be a commissioner and a deputy operating nationally, and assistant commissioners at regional level, running uniformed policing and community relations. There would be two criminal investigation units, each headed by another assistant commissioner. One of those would be the SCDEA, and the other would be an amalgamation of existing CID units, with a regional structure, but reporting to a national commander.’
‘All based in Edinburgh, I suppose. The Glaswegians will love that.’
‘No. The central command won’t be in either of the main cities. Bob’s plan is that it should be physically separated from the politicians. He’s proposing that it should be centred in Motherwell.’
‘Motherwell?’ Karen exclaimed.
‘Why not?’ Andy retorted. ‘It’s Bob’s home town.’
‘So there are no prizes for guessing who the first commissioner will be.’
Her husband laughed. ‘You can stop right there,’ he told her. ‘This is a study, that’s all. It works in principle. Greater London’s twice the size of Scotland in population terms, and it has a single force. . if you ignore the City of Westminster force, which is small by any standard, an anomaly, really. Ontario’s another good comparison: bigger than us, but with a single police force. Bob’s done some research over there. But putting it into practice, that’s another thing altogether.’
‘Who’s to stop it?’
‘Aileen de Marco. She’s a tremendously powerful figure just now. She may lead a coalition administration, but what she says goes. If she wants it to happen it will, if not. . forget it.’
‘And where does Bob stand on it?’
‘As far as I know, he’s neutral. He’s done it because Aileen asked him, that’s all.’
‘So,’ Karen continued, ‘while we’re waiting for the revolution, what’s going to happen?’ She picked up the form. ‘Are you going to apply for this? Because I’m damn sure you’d get it.’
‘What about Bob?’
‘Come on, you know there’s no danger of him going after it.’
‘That’s true, so would you like me to?’
‘Your career, your decision. I’ll support you, either way.’
‘In that case. . I won’t bother.’ He ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. ‘It sounds glamorous, but I doubt whether my heart would be in it, for a reason which will remain between you and me.’
‘Ah, Andy’s drugs philosophy, is it? I can see how that might make it difficult. Does that mean you’ve settled for this nice quiet backwater?’
His green eyes drilled into her until his face creased into a smile. ‘That will be the day, my love. No, there’s something in the wind for me, and it might not be too long till it blows to our door. Until then, we’ll both have to be patient and bide our time in leafy Tayside.’
Three
‘How long has she been here?’ the head of CID asked.
‘The doc reckoned about ten days, sir,’ Jack McGurk replied, his voice muffled by his face mask. The space in the copse was restricted by overhanging branches, forcing the towering detective sergeant into an awkward crouch. ‘He can’t be certain, though,’ he continued. ‘He was going by maggot infestation, mostly. It’s been hot for the last week, and he did say that could have affected it. Poor lass,’ he murmured, ‘she’s not a pretty sight.’
‘That went without saying,’ Neil McIlhenney growled. The ears, mouth and nasal cavities of the body were filled with pupae, and with black crawling insects that were feeding on them in turn. He turned to McGuire. ‘You’re in no doubt, now you’ve seen her close up?’
‘None,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘The way she’s been left, been laid out. It’s. . it’s very similar to the others. Come on, let’s get the smell out of our nostrils, and let the crime-scene people back in.’ Stripping off his mask, he led the way out of the small clearing and on to the green hillside below. A woman dressed in a white tunic, like the three men, stood waiting for them on the edge of the golf course. She was in her mid-thirties, tall and slim with dark, close-cropped hair.
‘Is it what you thought?’ she asked McGurk.
McGuire answered for him. ‘No, Inspector, it’s as Superintendent McIlhenney and I suspected when we saw the image on the mobile. Jack wasn’t at any of the earlier crime scenes. The body’s laid out in exactly the same way as they were. It looks like an overdose, a suicide or a natural death, except there’s no sign of drug use, no empty pill bottles, and the victim was young and apparently healthy. The only difference is that the others were in fairly public places and were all found immediately after the kill. This girl’s off the beaten track.’
‘Are we sure about that?’ McIlhenney asked him. ‘Don’t people walk through these woods?’
‘I’ve never imagined so, but maybe I’m wrong. There is a path by the fence, but it’s pretty much overgrown.’ He looked at McGurk. ‘How was she found?’
‘By a golfer,’ the sergeant told him. ‘He hit a big hook off the tee, and knocked his ball into the woods. It’s out of bounds, but he went looking for it just the same.’
‘He hit it that far off line?’ McIlhenney exclaimed.
‘No. The ball was just inside the tree-line. He said to the uniforms it was the smell that attracted him, once he got in there.’
‘Have you spoken to him?’
McGurk winced. ‘I thought I’d leave that to you, sir. He’s a High Court judge.’
‘Who?’
‘Lord Archibald. I was in the witness box before him once. He gave me a hard time.’
McGuire laughed. ‘Archie Nelson gives everybody a hard time; it’s what makes him a great judge. Did you learn from the experience?’
‘Yes indeed, boss. I learned never to cross his path again if I can avoid it.’
‘I’ll interview him, if you like,’ said the woman.
The head of CID nodded. ‘You do that, Becky,’ he said. ‘You should be getting to know landmark figures like him. How are you settling in at Torphichen Place, by the way? I do plan to come and visit you there, honest.’
‘I like it,’ Detective Inspector Becky Stallings replied. ‘It’s a change from Charing Cross and no mistake, but it’s so much more civilised.’ Stallings was a newcomer to the Edinburgh force. She had been seconded from the Metropolitan Police to assist the internal inquiry into Stevie Steele’s death, and had applied for a permanent transfer shortly afterwards.
‘Do you understand what we’re talking about here? You know all about the Boras investigation, but are you up to speed with everything that went before?’
‘Not completely,’ she admitted.
‘That’s okay,’ said McGuire. ‘There’s no reason why you should be: those cases were all closed. Let me give you a run-down. Earlier this year, a young artist named Stacey Gavin was found dead near South Queensferry. There was no sign of a struggle, and the body was. . how do I put it?. . composed, as if she had simply laid down to die, just like that girl in there. This caused the officers who attended the scene to. .’ he paused ‘. . I’ll use a technical police term here. . to fuck up, and assume that Stacey had either ODed accidentally or topped herself. This led to the autopsy being given low priority, so it was over twenty-four hours before she was properly examined and we discovered that she’d been killed by a single shot to the back of the head.’