He nodded. "Fair enough. Let's pack, and get the kids ready. With luck we can pick up Mark from school and head straight for the airport."
He turned to leave, but she caught his arm. "Hey, I almost forgot something. When you were out, Alex called, to see how things were. We talked for a while, and during our conversation she said something really weird, about your brother." A puzzled look crossed her face.
"What brother?"
"It's a long story; I'll tell you all about it over the Atlantic. How was Alex with you, incidentally?" he asked her.
"She's been friendlier, I have to say, but at least she didn't call me a two-timing tart, or any other choice descriptions."
"She wouldn't. She told me some truths about me, though."
For a moment all his hurt showed in his face, and she felt his pain within her. "Bob," she said, breaking the silence. "So we're not the golden couple the world thinks we are… and when this comes out in court the world's going to know it too… but we're still pretty formidable, and we've still got more going for us than at least eight out of another ten. Remember that, and remember this too. There's one thing more than anything other… more than the kids, even… that's taking me back to Scotland, and that's the fact that I love you."
He looked at her, and gave a long slow smile, one that she had not seen, she realised, since the day that Seonaid had been born. "And for the avoidance of doubt, honey," he told her, "I love you too."
"I never had any doubt," Sarah whispered. "Come on, let's get ready."
"Yes." He bent to scoop up the baby in his arms. "By the way, do you want to phone friend Babs before we leave?"
Sarah looked at him and snorted. "Like hell I do!"
Sixty-One
"This must be an unusual experience for you," said Andrea.
"What do you mean?"
"Saying goodnight to your date on her doorstep, and not being invited in."
Stevie gave her a wounded look. "Having a date's an unusual experience for me these days."
"That'll be right; I'm not so innocent I'll believe that. Are you disappointed that the evening ends here?"
"No. Honestly. You set the pace; I told you that and I meant it."
"In that case, let me tell you something. The pace might hot up, quite significantly, when I stop feeling that the policeman in you is still interviewing me about that damn fire. All night, charming as you've been, I've had the feeling that there are still questions you want to ask me, but don't like to, since this evening's meant to be just about us and nothing else. You've also, if I may say so, looked remarkably smug, as if you've just done something very clever, and can't wait to tell me."
Steele leaned against the wall beside her front door and smiled at her.
"There's not much subtlety about me, is there? You've got two out of three right; where you're wrong about is that I can't tell you, not yet at any rate."
"Two out of three's not bad," Andrea conceded. "So what is it that you want to ask me?"
"I don't need to at all, actually; I could find out from other sources, but it would be quicker if I got it from you."
"Go ahead then."
"Okay, if you're happy. When you were in trouble, for trying to burn down the Baptists, and you appeared in court, who acted for you?"
"A woman called Davina Chapin, of Candela and Finch; they're our family's lawyers."
"Mmm," Steele muttered, trying to sound matter-of-fact, and succeeding.
"Thanks."
"You mean that's it?" she exclaimed. "That's all?"
"Yup," he assured her. "I promise that's the last question I will ever ask you about this investigation. In the event that we do need to talk to you about it again, it'll be Maggie Rose who does it. I'll be nowhere near."
"Promise?"
"Promise. I'll declare a personal interest."
Andrea took his hand and tugged him gently off the wall. "In that case," she said, "I'd best make an honest copper of you. Would you like to come in?. Just for a coffee, you understand."
Sixty-two
"I hope you're grateful," said Neil Mcllhenney, as he pushed a video cassette across Bob Skinner's rosewood desk. "I took Thursday night off the football to get that for you. I had to frighten Joanne Virtue to do it as well; I wasn't very happy about that."
"You must have been impressive if you could scare big Jo. What's on the tape?"
"A virtuoso performance, signifying the end of the career of Black
Agnes Maley. You can watch it if you like, but I wouldn't recommend it. I'd like it back afterwards if you do; it belongs in my safe."
"Just tell me then. What have we got on her?"
"Improper use of influence in return for sexual favours," Mcllhenney replied. "That sums it up as politely as I can."
"And Joanne Virtue helped? The Big Easy herself?"
"Yup."
"Good for her; as of now she's on the list of those to whom we owe favours. Can we prosecute Maley?"
"Not for what's on the video. What they're doing isn't against the law, no money's seen to change hands, and all three of them are of age.
In theory there's corruption, but we'd never make it stick. Anyway we don't need to."
Skinner tapped the cassette box. "I take it there's another copy."
"Yes. It's in the possession of the First Minister's security adviser."
"Jock Govan? He's laced up as tight as they come."
Mcllhenney nodded and laughed. "He was just about sick when he saw it. I don't know whether he showed it to his boss or not, but it's had its effect. Maley's off the list for Holyrood and her resignation as a councillor will be tendered formally to the Lord Provost this morning. She's gone for good, and we've got a criminal intelligence file on her as well."
"Big Jo is safe, is she?"
"Maley's been warned off, don't worry."
The DCC beamed. "Happy Mondays, then. Thanks a million, Neil; I never expected a result like this when I set you on the woman." The smile vanished, abruptly. "I never thought you'd have to get your hands so dirty either. I know it can't have been pleasant. I won't forget it."
"You do exactly that, boss; forget it. When it comes to favours exchanged between you and me you're still well in credit." He picked up the tape. "I'll take this, if you don't want to see it."
"Do that."
Mcllhenney nodded, then held out a big padded envelope, which had been tucked under his left arm. "This was delivered to me on Friday morning," he said, 'from your sinister pal Arrow'
Skinner took it from him. "There's nothing sinister about Adam," he chuckled. "What you see is what gets you. Thanks again."
"No problem." The big inspector looked down at his friend, back in his accustomed chair. "Good to see you there at last," he said. "You got a result in the States, then?"
"The man was in court while we were still on the runway at JFK on Friday. He'll plead to manslaughter; there'll be no trial… for which I am profoundly grateful."
"And you and Sarah? Did you get a result there too?"
"She came back with me; let that speak for itself. I've learned a lot, Neil, about her and about me. I'll change, or at least I'll do my best. You've helped in that too, mate; whatever you say, if there was ever an account between you and me it's tilted well back to you."
"You'll be at the football in North Berwick on Thursday, then?" asked Mcllhenney.
"Count on it."
"About bloody time too; we've been a man light for weeks now." He turned and walked out of the DCC's office. As soon as the door had closed, Skinner picked up the package on his desk, ripped it open, and tipped out the contents. Three documents fell on to the desk; one of them, he saw immediately, was a note from Adam Arrow.