Head Shot

'So did I,' Haggerty confessed. 'Either him or Maggie Rose, at any rate.'

'Bob and Andy thought it was too soon for either of them,' the Chief explained. 'Besides, Pringle's done a fine job over the last few months in sharpening up the Borders Division. We all agreed that he deserved it.

Actual y, the truth is it's very much an interim appointment; Dan's not that far away from retirement.'

'So who's going to the Borders?'

'Mario McGuire,' the DCS told him. 'He's done his Special Branch stint; he's earned a move as well. So he's off on promotion to a divisional CID command, as a detective superintendent just like his wife, and big Mcl henney's going to the SB job.'

'Which leaves a vacancy as Bob's executive officer,' Haggerty mused.

'Indeed it does,' the Chief agreed. 'That'l be decided after Bob gets back from his conference. Incidental y, he and I have been discussing that subject more generally. After al the fuss we had with Ted Chase, we've decided that you should have the opportunity to appoint your own assistant. Sergeant rank: think about it, eh?'

The new ACC leaned back from the table as the waitress took away his soup bowl and laid a plate of braised beef, carrots and chips in its place. 'Can I have Maisie, here?' he joked. 'She's doing a great job so far;

Proud Jimmy shook his head. 'The needs of the senior officers' dining room supersede yours, William.'

The Glaswegian laughed; yes, the Edinburgh air was different, but it was fresh and it suited him. He had been astonished by Bob Skinner's phone cal, asking if he would be interested in the job, in the wake of the appointment of his predecessor, Ted Chase, to the office of the inspector of constabulary. The bluntness of the question had taken his breath away. He had felt himself to be in a rut, his career path at its end, marked down as too rough a diamond for the command floor, an unlikely choice, as a confirmed thief-catcher, to be given charge of uniformed policing.

'Apply for it, Willie,' Skinner had said. 'The job's yours if you do; Jimmy and I'll make sure of that.'

'But why me, for ruck's sake?' he remembered croaking the question.

'I'm having no more Ted Chases in here, pal. It's as simple as that.

Aye, we want new blood, but this time I'm going to make sure I know what type it is. You're my choice; and besides, it'll be a damn good career move for you. The Dumfries and Gal oway post will be coming up in a few years; that'd be a nice place to command.'

'Jesus wept, you think long-term, don't you?'

'I've got fuck all else to do in this job; other people catch the thieves and murderers now. When Jimmy said he'd make a politician of me, he didn't know the half of it. I don't like the breed, Wil ie, based on bitter experience. But they exist, so I'l play their game.. . only I'll make up my own rules.'

So he had applied, and Skinner had kept his promise, despite what Haggerty had regarded, privately, as the worst interview of his career.

He glanced around the headquarters dining room, at the heavy silver braid on the uniforms. Yes indeed, he thought. A different air from Glasgow.

5

He had almost finished his beef when Martin's mobile rang. The Chief gave a slightly tetchy frown; he had a firm belief that there should be sanctuaries in which the telephone did not ring.

'Sorry, boss,' the Head of CID apologised, but he answered its call nonetheless.

'Andy?' The word was a sob. The voice on the other end of the line was so contorted that it was almost unrecognisable. At first, he supposed 16 it was Karen; the fear of a miscarriage rushed into his mind. Then he looked at the number shown by the phone's LCD display, and he knew who it was.

'Sarah?' A muffled, gasping sound was her only answer.

'What's wrong?'

'Andy.' It seemed to be al she could say.

'Sarah, what is it? Are you ill? Is it one of the kids?'

'No,' she moaned. 'Andy, can you come out here? I need you. I can't get through to Bob.'

'Sure, I'll come. But what is it?'

He heard her sobbing intensify. 'I can't talk about it over the phone,' she whispered, through her tears.

'Okay, okay. I'm on my way.'

He ended the call. Proud and Haggerty were staring at him; and not only them. He realised that the urgency in his voice had brought all conversation in the dining room to a halt.

'What is it?' asked the Chief.

'I don't know,' he answered. 'She couldn't, or wouldn't, say. I'm off out to Gullane; that's where she was calling from.'

He rose from the table and turned towards the door. Before he reached it, it swung open and Detective Inspector Neil Mcl henney came into the room, shock and concern written across his face. 'Andy,' he said, his voice low, 'I've just taken a call from a guy who said he was the county sheriff, in Buffalo, New York. He was looking for the Boss, but the message was about Sarah…'

Detective Superintendent Maggie Rose was still on a high; the phone cal from Mario had come as a complete surprise. She knew that the Special Branch posting usually carried a reward thereafter, but she had not expected that her husband would have jumped straight from his secretive office to the status of divisional CID commander.

'How long have you known?' she had asked him, with more than a hint of suspicion, once the initial delight had subsided.

'I didn't; not until this morning, when the Chief called me in and told me. Honest, love, it's the truth. Do you think I could have kept something like that from you?'

'After all that time in Special Branch? Too bloody right I do. But I'l take your word for it. So what's happening to Dan Pringle? Early retirement?'

He had hesitated for less than a second, but she had picked it up. 'Far from it. He's the new Head of CID.'

Thinking back, she had felt not even a twinge of disappointment; no, her instant reaction had been one of relief. 'Good for Clan. He's earned it.'

'Aye, sure, but…'

'I've told you, Mario. I've gone as far as I want for now. That job's about half a step below executive rank; I don't have the experience for it.

Besides, I've out-ranked you for long enough.'

'You think we'l make the papers? Husband and wife team and al that?'

'Are you kidding?'

'TFR, I'm kidding. The Chief said he wants that aspect played down; the press guy's under orders not to mention it.'

But someone would, she mused, as she stared out of the window of her small office, all but deaf to the bustle of the Haymarket traffic.

Sooner or later, some wag would decide to run a feature on the Nick and Nora Charles of Edinburgh CID, and for al ofAlan Royston's contacts and negotiating skil s, it would happen.

She was brought back to the present by a knock on her door. 'Come,' she cal ed, sharply. It opened, with its familiar squeak, and a fresh-faced probationer constable came into the room. He was carrying a brown folder; she noticed that his hand trembled slightly as he held it out to her.

Christ, she thought, is that how the youngsters think of me?

'Yes, Constable?' she greeted him, deliberately softening her tone and offering a smile.

'I'm sorry, miss… eh, sorry, ma'am, but…'

She interrupted him. 'That's at least one "sorry" too many, son. You're new here, yes?'

'First month, ma'am.'

'What's your name?'

'PC Haddock, ma'am.'

Poor lad, she thought. You 're going to have to be good.

'When they sent you up here, PC Haddock, did the lads tell you that I eat probationers for lunch?'

'More or less, ma'am.'

'They're right.' She paused. '… But not in their first few weeks. I prefer them a bit more seasoned. Now; what have you got for me?'