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‘So what do you do?’

‘You die, or you take it off him, if you’re good enough.’

‘You are good enough, aren’t you?’ she asked.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Speaking of Colledge, any news of his son?’

‘Yes, I called Edinburgh while you were swimming. He’s pulled another six hundred euros from his bank account.’

‘What does that tell you?’

Bob wrinkled his nose. ‘It tells me that he’s running around with quite a bit of cash for an eighteen-year-old on a painting holiday. But what does it suggest to me? That’s the real question. He’s a bright lad, so he probably knows that plastic leaves a trail. Maybe he doesn’t want anyone to know where he is. His last withdrawal was made at Perpignan railway station: that’s on the main line. It goes everywhere.’

‘Maybe somebody will remember him buying a ticket.’

‘I phoned my friend Cerdan and asked him to check, but it’s a big place. They have thousands of travellers every day, and at this time of year half of them will be backpackers from northern Europe buying their tickets in very bad French. Anyway, finding the boy may have dropped a point or two in the importance stakes. We’ve got a guy in custody and it’s looking bad for him. He’s one of us, unfortunately.’

‘A police officer?’

‘I’m afraid so. But don’t let’s dwell on it, or my morning will be blighted.’

Aileen frowned. ‘Maybe it will be anyway. I haven’t finished with this protection stuff. Until now I’ve written it off as one of your jokes. Do you have a gun in the house in Gullane?’

‘No. I won’t, with the kids there, but you’re protected in other ways. There are sensors all around the place that tell me if anything heavier than a cat comes anywhere near.’

‘But it’s only me,’ she protested. ‘I’m nothing. And it’s only Scotland: we’re only a devolved assembly.’

‘Government,’ he corrected her. ‘And you are its leader. That makes you my responsibility, professionally as well as personally, and I will look after you as well as I can. . without a firearm.’

‘I’ve got faith in you.’

‘Let’s hope it’s justified,’ he said. ‘But enough of the heavy stuff: let’s be on our way.’

They left the house and took the footpath that led down to the entrance to the beach road and to the one-armed headless statue, erected to mark the 1992 Barcelona Olympics. The walk to the hotel took less than ten minutes even at a gentle pace. When they arrived, all but one of the terrace tables were occupied. Bob took the steps two at a time, and sat down, just beating a German couple to the prize. He glanced at his watch as the waiter approached. ‘Will we make it lunch, rather than a coffee break?’ he asked.

Aileen nodded. ‘Might as well.’

They ordered a selection of tapas from the menu, with two beers. The young waiter was attentive. When Bob complimented him on his English, he replied that his father was British, his mother Catalan. They ate slowly, watching the holiday-makers on the beach below. ‘I wish we could stay here,’ said Aileen, as she finished the last of the patatas bravas.

‘Nothing’s impossible,’ Bob replied. ‘In a few years I hit fifty, and I can retire on a decent pension. If the electorate decides in its wisdom to get rid of you at the same time, we could move out here, put the kids in one of the English schools. .’

She stared at him. ‘Would you do that?’

‘My love, if that’s what you wanted; I’m told the schools are pretty good.’

‘Not that good, though. Your ex-wife would go crackers if you even suggested it. And you’d go crackers too, after a few months out here. The last thing I want to do is cage you, or even get in the way of your career. Let’s just leave all that as a distant dream.’

‘Speaking of my career,’ he said, ‘we still haven’t discussed that report I prepared for you. Have you read it yet?’

‘Of course I have. Three times. It makes perfect sense, especially when you look at the examples you quoted. Given the size of Scotland, a single police force would work very well. And, as you say, Britain as a whole is almost unique in not having a national police force as such.’

‘Could you get a Bill to set one up through the Parliament?’

‘I reckon so. If I read them right, our coalition partners would support it, and maybe the Tories as well.’

‘Will you try?’ he asked.

‘That depends on one thing.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Your approval. The document sets out the case for amalgamation of the existing forces, but that’s all I asked you to do. It doesn’t have any recommendations. You haven’t told me what you think of the idea.’

Bob slid his Ray-Bans down his nose and fixed his eyes on her. ‘I’m a cop; I do what I’m asked or ordered.’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re also my closest and most trusted adviser, so cut the crap.’

‘Okay, if you insist. I’ve consulted one or two people close to me in drawing it up, but the paper you have is the only copy. Burn it, shred it, chuck it in the sea, whatever; but don’t let anyone else see it.’

‘You think it’s a bad idea?’

‘No, no. I think it’s a terrible idea. The structure we have at the moment is in the public interest because it makes it difficult for badly intentioned politicians to put improper pressure on the police. Your predecessor wanted to control us; if he’d just had one guy to lean on it would have been much easier for him.’

‘But,’ she countered, ‘the paper’s very specific about the machinery for the appointment of the commissioner and senior officers. It would leave it all in the hands of the local authorities, and that’s how it would be enacted. That’s what the Bill would say.’

‘Sure,’ he said, ‘that’s how it would be set up. But suppose you lot get the boot at the next election and the SNP get in? Or suppose the hairy-backs on your extreme left gain a significant number of seats and decide that they want control? There would be nothing to stop them changing the rules, if they had the votes in Parliament to do it.’

‘I could fix it for Westminster to veto it if they tried.’

Bob snorted. ‘The way the polls are looking for your party, you won’t be able to fix anything down there after the next general election. No, you asked for my advice and you’ve got it, as firmly as I can express it. The present system works, and the crime figures prove it. So since it ain’t broke. .’

‘What if I went ahead anyway?’ she asked. ‘What would you do?’

‘If I had to, I’d lead the opposition, and I’d mobilise the chiefs’ association to speak out against it. I wouldn’t seek any post in the new force; in fact, I’d leave the service the day it was set up.’

To his surprise, she laughed softly. ‘How did I know that was what you’d say? Lover, I’ve got a confession to make: I’ve never had any thought of amalgamating the police forces. I feel exactly the same way you do about the notion.’

‘Then why the hell. .’

‘. . did I ask you to undertake the study? For your sake, to give you something to focus on, and to bring you out of yourself. Bob, after that business up at St Andrews, you were a psychological mess. Jimmy Proud told me that if you hadn’t agreed to go on sabbatical he’d have ordered you. He and I dreamed up the idea of the study between us.’

‘So you and my chief constable were plotting behind my back,’ he said heavily.

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘In that case. . thanks.’ Suddenly, his grin reflected the brightness of the day. ‘You were right: I really was in a fucking mess. But your wee scheme worked. It took me out of all that shit, out of my brooding self.’

‘When Stevie Steele died,’ Aileen confessed, ‘I was afraid you’d sink back into your depression.’

Bob shook his head. ‘No. If anything, that had the opposite effect. When something like that happens, it makes you want to be twice the cop, to honour the memory, so to speak. I’m ready to roll now and, for all our fantasy a few minutes ago, I’m itching to get back into action.’ He glanced at their empty glasses. ‘Want another beer?’