‘She’s mentioned the possibility; that’s all I’ll say for now. That’s strictly between you and me, by the way. Understood?’
‘Of course. So she hasn’t discussed it with anyone else? The DCC, for example, or Brian Mackie, now that she reports to him?’
‘She hasn’t had the opportunity to discuss it with Mr Skinner, even if she was inclined to. Remember: he’s been on sabbatical since the end of January. As for our new assistant chief constable, they may have known each other for a while, but she’s not ready to discuss careers with him.’
‘Why not?’
The inspector frowned. ‘I’m not sure, but I don’t think she trusts him enough.’
‘Brian Mackie? Why wouldn’t she trust him?’
‘Because he’s new in post: people change when they go into the Command Corridor. I reckon she has a concern. . I’ll put it no stronger. . that if she went into a meeting with him to discuss career options, she might come out without any. No, let everyone assume what they will, I reckon she’ll say nothing about her future until after the baby’s born and maybe not till she’s getting close to the end of her maternity leave.’
‘When does she go off?’
‘In three days. She finishes on Friday.’
‘How long can she take?’
‘A full year from then, if she wants; and just between you and me again, that’s her present intention.’
‘Jesus! She’ll be bored stiff after a month.’
‘Maybe, but a month after that she won’t, not with the baby on her hands.’
‘I suppose you’ll be going off then too. Bloody paternity leave,’ he grumbled. ‘Losing Neil McIlhenney is something I did not need.’
‘You’re complaining about that?’ Steele laughed. ‘I thought you were going to be his new son’s godfather.’
‘Louis? That I am. I’m his big brother Spencer’s too, but Neil didn’t get swanning off for a fortnight when he was born.’
‘Times change, sir.’
‘I don’t know what you’re grinning about,’ McGuire retorted. ‘With Bandit Mackenzie off on extended sick leave, you’re running your subdivision, and with Neil away. .’ He broke off, as Dr Brown re-emerged from the green enclosure. ‘Well, Doc?’
‘I’m glad I didn’t take the bet.’ The Irishman grimaced. ‘It looks as if death was caused by a single gunshot fired directly into the brain, upwards through the second spinal vertebra. It wasn’t a contact wound, but the muzzle was close enough to singe the surrounding hair. As you’ve seen, the bullet hasn’t exited, which, given the range, would indicate something like a point two-two or nine-millimetre weapon. You’ll know when we recover the thing, if it’s not too misshapen from rattling about inside her skull. Time of death? Six to eight hours ago, I’d say.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘That would make it, neatly, between six and eight a.m.
‘Obviously I can’t carry out a complete examination here, but I could see no other signs of violence on the body, save one, and it hardly qualifies. There is very slight bruising on the left shoulder; it could be the print of a hand, possibly indicating that the woman was gripped from behind and shot. There’s no indication of any resistance whatsoever, so chances are, she never knew a thing, just the lights going out.’ He paused. ‘Any of that significant?’
‘All of it, worse luck,’ McGuire growled. ‘Thanks, Aidan. When can you do the post-mortem?’
‘As soon as I can round up someone to assist, or find someone more eminent than me to take the lead.’
‘I don’t want to wait for the professor for this one: I’d like to get my hands on the bullet as soon as possible.’
The doctor’s eyebrows rose slightly. ‘For comparison with another case?’
McGuire winked at him. ‘Come on now, Doc, you know we always run ballistic comparisons.’
‘But maybe not as a matter of urgency.’
‘Bugger off. . with respect to your professional status, of course.’
Brown smiled. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. Get her to the city mortuary as soon as you can. I’ll be ready, even if it means working this evening, so you’d better have your witnesses in place too. If I’m breaking my back over this I don’t want you lot holding me up.’
As soon as the Irishman headed for his car, McGuire beckoned to a red-haired figure who stood waiting, amid a group of tunic-clad officers. ‘DI Dorward,’ he called out. ‘Your team can get to work now.’
‘Are we looking for anything in particular?’ the man asked, as he approached.
‘The day I tell you how to do your job, Arthur,’ the head of CID replied, ‘mine will really have gone to my head.’
‘Come on, boss, give us a clue.’
‘Well, first of all, we’d like to know who she is, so you should make identification a priority. Also, if you find a spent cartridge casing, that would be very nice.’
‘That’s assuming that the uniforms haven’t ground it into the sand. . or you, for that matter.’
‘Give us credit for a wee bit of professionalism.’
‘Not after being in this job for the time I have.’ He glanced around. ‘Will this be a media-free zone?’
‘As free as we can make it. We can keep the beach clear, but anybody with the wit to hire a boat from North Berwick and run it along here will have a clear view.’
‘And they’ll do that too,’ Dorward muttered. ‘We’d better get cracking, in that case.’ He turned, signalling to his team to join him on the beach.
‘So where do we go from here, sir?’ Steele asked; the question was loaded.
‘I go back to Fettes,’ the detective chief superintendent replied, ‘back to Headquarters. You take charge of this investigation.’
‘It’s outside my area,’ the inspector pointed out. ‘It’s in East Lothian.’
McGuire sighed. ‘How did I know you were going to say that? I don’t care where the fuck it is. This murder is identical in every respect to the Stacey Gavin killing two months ago, and you’re carrying the ball on that one. I’m not having two teams chasing the same person, you must realise that.’
‘I do, but will DCI Leggatt understand? He’s the divisional commander here.’
‘Of course he will.’
‘Are you sure, sir? He’s relatively new in his position; put yourself in his place and you might fancy a nice high-profile murder, especially in a rural area. A quick result would make your name.’
McGuire glanced sideways at his colleague. ‘Forgive me, Stevie, if I sound political, but this isn’t any old rural area. We are just outside the village of Gullane. Who lives here?’ He looked to the west. ‘Not a mile away, as the fly crows, or whatever.’
‘DCC Skinner.’
‘Exactly. Big Bob may be in the middle of this study break of his, but he’s still around. He’s been damn good so far about keeping away from the office, and letting us get on with our jobs; better than I expected, to tell you the truth. But I’m not so naive that I wouldn’t do him the courtesy of advising him of what’s happened on his own doorstep.
‘He might not interfere in the investigation, but as sure as God made Motherwell supporters, he will want to be sure that it’s being run to the best of our ability. That does not mean entrusting it to a new DCI whose biggest success to date, good collar though it was, is a white-collar scam involving a bogus property portfolio and some duped investors.
‘Stevie, your first task will be to identify the victim. There’s every chance she’s local, and every possibility that the boss knows her. So don’t you be too bothered about Graham Leggatt making his name; you concentrate on yours.’
Steele winced. ‘Am I supposed to thank you for that?’
The head of CID smiled affably. ‘No. Custom dictates that you say, “Yes, sir.” Anyway, you know I’m right to keep the two investigations under one roof. Don’t worry about DCI Leggatt: I’ll explain my decision to him. And when I do, I’ll bet he bloody thanks me.’
‘Do I keep him in the loop?’
‘If you want to do that as a courtesy, I’ve no objection, as long as you make it clear that it’s in confidence. Otherwise, you report to Detective Superintendent McIlhenney, when he’s back from changing nappies, and to me until then.’