‘Christ, Wilding,’ McCall sighed, ‘you’re as quick as ever with an excuse for getting out of the dirty jobs.’
‘If you like, I’ll see if I can bring in another couple of uniforms. It’ll be difficult, mind, with the Hearts game at Tynecastle this afternoon, but if you reckon you can’t handle this on your own. .’
‘Fuck off.’
The DS smiled and left them to their malodorous task, and walked back to the yurt. It had become their headquarters, Randall Mosley having moved the author facilities to the sponsors’ hospitality pavilion on the west side of the site. He took a seat at the small reception desk, which he and Pye had commandeered. As he settled into the chair facing the double door, half of it opened, and the inspector stepped inside. ‘We’re out of here,’ he said. ‘Professor Joe wants to see us again, over at the morgue.’
‘What for? I’ve had enough of that place for today.’
‘He says he’s got something to show us. He says he knows exactly how Glover died, and that we’ve been barking up the wrong tree. Not that I’m surprised.’ He paused. ‘Have those two started the sift?’
‘Yes, just.’
‘Good, for we really need to find what’s in there. We’re also going to need help later on. I know it’s Alice Cowan’s day off, but I hope she doesn’t have any fancy plans for it.’
Seventeen
‘Well,’ she asked, as he stepped inside, ‘are we getting a dog?’
He looked at her in amused surprise. ‘Why the hell should you say that?’
‘It’s that strange smile on your face. I’ve been watching you all the way up the drive. You look as though you and the cocker twins have become firm friends.’
‘Them? Margot Rendell has them spoiled rotten. They’re crazy. . and please don’t mention the word “dog” to James Andrew, and especially not to Seonaid. No, if I looked moderately pleased with myself, it’s because I am. I wouldn’t say I’ve made a new friend, but we’re on reasonably good terms.’
‘You spoke to them?’
‘Yup.’
‘And you’re all still in one piece? I can see you are. . so they came through it unscathed?’
‘We had a very civilised discussion, me and Derek. He’s their leader, I think. He didn’t describe himself that way, but I could tell by the way the rest looked at him.’
‘Very civilised? That’s more than I expected, the way you reacted when you saw them. But are they moving?’
‘Take a look and see.’ He led her into the garden room, as he liked to call the conservatory that overlooked the bay, and watched as she looked down into the car park.
‘My God,’ she exclaimed, ‘they’re packing up. What did you threaten them with? The SAS?’
‘No threats, honest, and they’re not going far, but the gesture might appease the locals.’ He explained the suggestion that he had made to Derek Baillie, and his undertakings if they accepted it. ‘He called his people together while I was on the beach with Joe and Jarvis. I’m sure their resident do-gooder argued against it. .’
‘Who’s he?’
‘An objectionable wee bastard called Hugo Playfair. He’s their self-appointed spokesman; says he belongs to a pressure group called RON. . no, sorry, wrong Kray twin. . REG. He told Baillie, more or less, to have nothing to do with me.’
‘I’ve heard of them,’ Aileen declared. ‘The group, that is. They brought a deputation to Holyrood when I was Justice Minister, demanding recognition of travellers’ right to roam and to set up camp without hindrance wherever they please. I didn’t see them, though; I was busy so my deputy dealt with it.’
‘What did he tell them?’
‘More or less what you’d have told him, but more politely; he pointed out that what he was suggesting had to be balanced against the rights of the rest of the community.’
‘The demand sounds like Playfair’s position. He doesn’t seem to cut too much ice with Derek Baillie, though. When I came back up the path, he approached me and said they would do what I asked. Now I’ve got to keep my part of the bargain, but that won’t be difficult. I can arrange for the screens myself; as for the other, I’ll call the chief executive of the council when I get back from the airport with the kids. They’ve got a vehicle that pumps out septic tanks; that’ll do the necessary.’
‘What if he refuses? I can’t fix it with the councillors any more; my party’s in the minority in East Lothian, remember.’
‘He won’t refuse.’
‘He might if he thinks you’re standing on his toes.’
‘If he does, then never mind his toes, I’ll jump on his fucking head.’ He paused. ‘But seriously, babe, I know the man, and he won’t be a problem. In fact he’ll probably bollock his staff for not suggesting this themselves. The main complaint you hear about travellers is about the mess they leave behind. But what are they going to do? Dump their crap in the sea?’
‘You are amazing,’ she told him. ‘You go down there a firebrand and you come back a convert.’
‘I’m by no means a convert. I’m not even a sympathiser. I won’t be doing anything specifically for these people. I’ll have done it for the public good, and that’s my job.’
‘Do you know, you’re sounding like a chief constable already, taking the broad view.’
‘If I am, it’s mostly down to you.’
‘I’ll take the credit if you choose to bestow it.’
‘In that case,’ Bob began, ‘you won’t mind if I go out for a beer later on, once the kids are fed and watered.’
She frowned. ‘Why should I? We often do that on a Sunday, after the beach visitors have gone home.’
‘I didn’t mean us. I meant me. I’ve arranged to meet Derek Baillie and his mate Asmir at around half six, down in the Mallard. It occurred to me while I was sorting this thing out that I’m no different from the rest of the mainstream herd, in that I don’t approve of the traveller lifestyle. But equally, I don’t really know anything about it, least of all why they choose to do it. So I’m going to take this opportunity to find out.’
He was interrupted by the buzzing of the entry phone. He stepped into the kitchen and picked up the receiver. ‘Bob,’ a crusty voice crackled, ‘Donald Rendell. I wonder if I might come in?’
‘Of course, Donald.’ He pressed the button to open the gate, then walked back into the hall and opened the front door, to greet his visitor, who was marching up the path towards him, his back ramrod straight as always. In his big right hand he held his customary walking stick, which as far as Skinner could see was more of a fashion accessory than a necessity.
As the ex-soldier approached, Skinner noticed that he was carrying a bottle of red wine in his free hand. ‘A small gift,’ the veteran said jovially, ‘for walking the wife’s bloody dogs.’
‘Donald,’ the policeman exclaimed, as he ushered the visitor indoors, ‘I can’t accept that.’
‘Then it’s not for you, it’s for your good lady; and a refusal will offend.’
‘In that case. . Come on and have a seat. I have to go to the airport soon, but I have time for a chat.’ He led the way through to the garden room.
The old man gazed out of the window, down at the car park. ‘I’m sorry I was out when you brought the little buggers back. You seem to have been successful, from what I can see out there. Laid down the law, did you?’
‘Limited success, I’m afraid.’ He explained the compromise that he had reached with Derek Baillie. As he spoke, some of the good humour left Colonel Rendell’s face.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘It’s something, I suppose, and I’m grateful for it. I have to tell you, though, Bob, that these people infuriate me. I spent my career in a disciplined service, and I cannot abide those who deliberately excuse themselves from society then use its namby-pamby laws to frustrate those whose rights they’re infringing. If I could, I’d call in my old regiment and drive them into the sea, caravans, bloody dogs and all.’
‘And children?’ said Aileen, who had joined them, unnoticed.