‘Did you factor in hair colour, given that our victim’s was jet black?’
‘She was female. Who knows what colour it was the day before she died?’
‘Are you cheeking me, son?’
‘No, ma’am. I didn’t think it was worth doing at this stage, that’s all. I’ll call them all back, if you want.’
Stallings grinned. ‘Don’t bother, Sauce; you’re right. And don’t mind me either. I’ll jump to the defence of my gender at a moment’s notice. Anything else to tell me?’
‘Yes. I’ve spoken to Mrs Dell at High-end Talent; she was Zrinka Boras’s agent. She has several other painters on her books; four of them are on my list, and she’s seen three of those within the last week, so I can score them off. I’m also just off the phone with the principal’s secretary up at the Edinburgh College of Art. She’s going to put together a list of female painting graduates over the last ten years, plus current mature students in the age-group we’re looking at, and email it to me. She made another suggestion, too.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Schools. She said we shouldn’t forget art teachers either. I explained that we were actually looking at working artists, but she said that many teachers supplement their income if they can.’
‘What’s the nearest school?’ the inspector asked.
‘The Royal High,’ Haddock replied, ‘on the other side of the Queensferry road.’
‘No,’ McGurk interposed, ‘not quite. You’re forgetting Mary Erskine.’
Stallings frowned. ‘Who’s she?’
‘It: one of the oldest girls’ schools in the world, one of three run by the Edinburgh Merchant Company. It’s just across the road from the entrance to the golf club, not much more than a hundred yards away.’
‘Would it have an art department?’
‘Bound to have.’
‘Okay.’ Stallings turned back to Haddock. ‘Sauce, close the gap. Ask the education authority for a list of all female art teachers within the age limit, then contact this Merchant Company thingie, and ask them for the same information.’
Nine
‘Do you think I’m a hypocrite?’
She looked up at him, unable to contain her surprise. ‘Do I what?’ she gasped, spluttering as she failed to suppress her laughter.
‘You heard. Do you think I’m a hypocrite?’
‘And why the hell should I think that?’
Bob Skinner gazed at her.
A new Bob Skinner, she thought, yet again. He was sun-bronzed, and his blue eyes sparkled. He was ten years older than her, nearer fifty than forty, yet he seemed to have grown younger in the time they had been together. The network of care lines around his eyes had faded until they were barely noticeable. He was slimmer in the waist, thicker in the chest, and the tension that had emanated from him in waves a few months before had gone, replaced by an air of easy relaxation. She thought back to the man he had been in the depths of winter and marvelled at the change in him. And yet, for all that, he looked sombre.
His right hand lay on the restaurant table, his fingers toying with the stem of his wine glass, the big vein that ran down his bicep from beneath the sleeve of his short-sleeved shirt twitching with the movement. ‘Because I do,’ he murmured.
Aileen de Marco chuckled. ‘You’ll need to run that one past me again, love,’ she said, in her soft Scots tone. ‘You are a very complicated guy, sure, but strip all that away, and you’re also the straightest, most honest man I’ve ever met. You’ve done some serious things in your life, but I’ll bet you’ve never done anything that you didn’t believe was right. You and hypocrisy don’t belong in the same bed. . unlike you and me,’ she added. ‘Knowing how you feel about the double standards of politics, there are still times when I wonder how you and I got together.’
He grinned. ‘Fishing for them, are you? Aileen, my darling, you are the one politician I know who confounds all the stereotypes, and you’re the only one I’ve ever admired, apart, maybe, from Bill Clinton and Barack Obama. You do not have a duplicitous bone in your body.’
‘Well, if you have,’ she retorted, ‘I’ve never found it. . and I’ve been over all the territory by now. Come on, where’s this nonsense coming from?’
‘That reminds me of a joke I heard in Canada at Easter,’ he said, as he picked up his glass and drained the last of the Raimat Clamor, his regular choice from the wine list of Trattoria La Clota. ‘There’s this Saskatchewan girl, on a plane out of Toronto, sat next to a power-dressed big-city woman. Once they’ve taken off, the Saskatchewan girl, being friendly and all, says to her neighbour, “Where you from?” The power lady replies, “From a place where they know not to end a sentence with a preposition.” The Saskatchewan girl thinks about this for a few seconds and then she says, as friendly as before, “Where you from, bitch?” ’
Aileen’s laugh caused the heads of the couple at the next table to turn in their direction. She waited until they had returned to their own conversation, then moved closer to him. ‘Very funny,’ she murmured, ‘but now you’ve come out with that bolt from the blue, don’t think you can kick my question under the table. Explain yourself, Deputy Chief Constable Skinner. That’s an order from the First Minister.’
‘Hey,’ he exclaimed. ‘We’ve been through that one. The First Minister can’t give coppers direct orders.’ He paused. ‘On the other hand, my partner. . I suppose that’s a different story.’
She blinked. ‘You’ve never called me that before.’
‘You don’t like the term?’
‘No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’ve got nothing against it.’ Her eyes met his. ‘Sounds more official than girlfriend; more dignified, too, more suited to our age and station.’
‘Wouldn’t you prefer “wife”?’ he asked her.
They looked at each other for a long, lingering moment, locked in the kind of silence that brooks no interruption. John, the proprietor, read the sign, and his move towards their table was aborted in mid-stride. ‘Was that a proposal?’ Aileen whispered eventually.
‘I suppose it was. Not the most gracious one I’ve ever made, I’m afraid. I’m sorry, it wasn’t planned. It just slipped out.’
‘Then slip it back in again,’ she said. ‘I am very happy as we are, love. We’ve been together for little over half a year: there’s no need to rush fences. Let’s just enjoy being together and let things take their course.’
‘I’ll take that as a “no”, then.’
‘Take it as a “not yet”. Take it as a “maybe”. Take it as “You’re the man I love, we’re a couple, and that’s all I’ve ever hoped for.” Besides, you’re still coming down off your sabbatical. Wait till you get back to work; you’ll be too busy to think about things like that.’
‘You’re supposed to be pro-marriage,’ he challenged, smiling broadly as if to reassure her that he had not been wounded by her rejection. ‘Isn’t that the party line?’
‘The party line is toleration of all sorts of permanent relationships: formal, informal, straight, gay …’
‘Sheep, chickens. .?’
Her giggle was girlish, unlike her; in that instant he felt privileged, knowing that he was seeing her as no-one else ever did. ‘We’re not that modern,’ she replied.
‘So are you saying that I’d be a high-risk husband?’
‘No!’ she protested. ‘I wasn’t saying that at all.’
‘If you were, you’d be right. Look at my track record. On that evidence, I’m terrible at husbanding. That’s where I fear my hypocrisy lies.’
‘Explain.’
Bob leaned forward, until they were only a matter of inches apart. They were sitting at right angles to each other at the small square table so that each could have a view across L’Escala’s moonlit marina. The night was hot and the air was heavy; he swatted a buzzing fly away from his face as he gazed at the throng of boats, side by side on their moorings.
‘I’ve been married twice,’ he began. ‘If I say that Myra, my first wife, played around, I’d be understating things. She was international class, as I discovered years after her death. Yet in truth, even if I’d known the whole story, everything, as it was happening, I’d have forgiven her. Why? Because I worshipped the damn ground she walked on, that’s why. There was one blip, when we were engaged and very young, but I was faithful to her all through our marriage and, in truth, for quite a while after she was dead. I was never there for her, though: I was too busy career-building. Don’t let anyone tell you that success came my way by accident. I had my eyes fixed on command rank from the day I joined the force, and I worked my arse off getting there. Myra suffered for it, Alex suffered. .’