‘Sammy, did you look for personal papers?’
‘Yes, sir. I didn’t find any, though. He’s quite a methodical man is McDonnell. He had a big folder with all his household stuff in it, indexed. There was nothing in the slot marked “Bank”, no account books or cheque books, and the slot marked “Passport” was empty too.’
‘Did you look for an address book?’
‘No, Boss. I thought I’d better report back.’
The Head of CID nodded. ‘Fine, I’ll come down there with you and together we’ll strip the place. First, we’d better call Fettes, and get people started checking the airlines. If McDonnell caught a plane, maybe someone else bought the ticket for him.
‘If he’s sticking to overland and ferry travel, or better still if he’s got a bolt-hole somewhere in Britain, I’m going to give him something to think about.
‘Joyce, can you give me a photograph of McDonnell?’ The Deputy Governor nodded.
‘Good. In that case I’m going to raise Alan Royston, our press officer, and have it circulated nationally, with a statement saying that he’s wanted for questioning in relation to the murders of Nathan Bennett and his sister. After that, I’ll alert police forces throughout Europe.
‘Officer McDonnell has the answer to our problems, and I want him.’
23
There was something about Bob Skinner’s expression which sent a shiver running through Brian Mackie as he opened his front door. Following his promotion to Divisional Commander, he had moved to a new house in Musselburgh, in the heart of his territory.
‘Hello, Boss,’ he said, managing to show surprise rather than concern. ‘What brings you here? Is it about Nathan Bennett and his sister? I heard about that on radio last night. Bloody awful, eh.’
The DCC nodded. ‘In a way, it’s about Nathan that we need to talk. I was on my way home, so I thought I might look in to see if you were in.’
‘Only just. We got back twenty minutes ago.’ He nodded towards the driveway of the villa, where two cars stood. ‘Sheila’s in the kitchen.’
‘She’s in the kitchen? This must be serious, then.’ The Superintendent had always separated his private life very firmly from his career, but Skinner had been aware of his relationship with Sheila Mackeson, whom Mackie had met during his term as executive assistant to the DCC. She was a director of the consultancy which the police used to recruit civilian staff.
To his surprise, the thin man blushed to the top of his domed head. ‘We’re getting along,’ he said, with a self-conscious smile. ‘She isn’t in there cooking, mind you, just helping me unpack the food shop we did on the way back.’
He held the door open, ushering Skinner into the hall. As he stepped inside, a tall blonde woman appeared in the doorway opposite. She was dressed in shorts and a cotton top, and she held a pack of four toilet rolls in her hand. ‘Where do we keep these?’ she asked, then saw Skinner, and turned as pink as Mackie.
The DCC smiled. ‘Hello, Sheila.’ He glanced at his colleague. ‘Yes, Brian, I’d say you were getting along.’
‘Okay, Boss. It’s a fair cop. Sheila’s moving in with me, as of today.’ Mackie smiled, diffidently, at his new partner.
‘Good for you, mate,’ said Skinner. ‘Good for you, too, Sheila. If I’d known I wouldn’t have come empty-handed. ’
‘Would you have a drink with us, Mr Skinner; to celebrate?’ Sheila asked.
‘Thanks. I’ll have a Coke, or something like that.’
The woman nodded and headed back to the kitchen, as Mackie showed the DCC into his sitting room. ‘What did you want to talk to me about, Boss?’ he asked quietly, as they sat on the shiny new lounge suite.
‘First, I’ve got something to tell you. I understand that you were giving evidence the other day when Lord Archergait died.’
‘That’s right. The old chap took a heart attack, right before my eyes.’
‘No, he didn’t, Brian.’ Calmly, Skinner explained the cause of the judge’s death, watching the other man’s face as the astonishing truth registered.
‘I want you to think back,’ he went on, ‘and try to recall the scene. What happened in the period just before Archergait took his attack?’
Mackie closed his eyes and leaned back, searching his memory, as Sheila came into the room with a tray, loaded with two bottles of Rolling Rock beer, and an iced glass of Coca-Cola.
‘Kilmarnock, the defence counsel, was being a prat,’ he answered at last, taking one of the bottles from the tray. ‘The old judge was getting annoyed with him, and it showed. Then Kilmarnock said something else stupid, and I thought the old boy was about to explode at him. But he wasn’t. He just gasped for air and fell across his desk. I left the box and jumped up on to the Bench to try to help him, but he died in my arms.’
‘Anything else?’
The Superintendent closed his eyes once more. Then he nodded. ‘His water carafe. A couple of minutes before he died, I saw him pour himself a glass. I didn’t see him drink from it, but when he fell, he knocked it over. There was no water on the Bench or on the floor, so I guess he must have drunk it.’
‘I thought so,’ said Skinner. ‘Poisoning his food would have been virtually impossible in the Supreme Court Dining Room, without killing a few other people as well. Someone must have spiked that carafe with cyanide.’
‘He probably wouldn’t have noticed,’ Mackie volunteered. ‘Wee Colin, the Court Officer, told me that he liked a measure of gin and lime in his water jug.’ He put the beer bottle to his lips, then froze, his eyes wide.
‘Bloody hell,’ he whispered. ‘I was going to take a drink from that carafe, until Colin stopped me.’ On the couch beside him, Sheila Mackeson gave a little cry of fright.
‘He stopped you?’ Skinner repeated.
‘Yes. That was when he told me about the gin and lime. Christ, Boss, you don’t think it could have been Colin, do you?’
‘Naw, no more than you do. If wee Colin was going to poison a judge, I can think of a few that he’d have picked before Archergait. Still, we’re going to have to talk to him.’
Finally, Mackie summoned the resolve to take a mouthful of beer. He grinned at Sheila. ‘Tastes okay.’
She frowned. ‘Is your job always like this?’
Skinner answered for him. ‘It’s nearly always repetitive and boring, Sheila. I can promise you that no one has ever tried to poison, shoot, stab or otherwise mollicate the Thin Man, nor will anyone ever. I have a theory that some people attract violence. Christ, I’m one of them. People have been having a go at me since I was sixteen. So far, I’ve always walked away afterwards.’
Mackie chuckled. ‘Or limped. Like the time you kicked that guy in the head and nearly broke your foot.’
‘Ouch! I can still feel it! That was different though. That man only wanted to get away. The trouble for both of us was that I was between him and the door.
‘Anyway, Sheila, don’t worry about Brian. If there’s something about me that invites attack, equally, there’s something about him that invites co-operation. He may be the best shot in the entire force, but that’s another matter.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’ll always worry about him. But I’ve worked for you lot for long enough to know that it comes with the territory.’
‘You planning on getting married?’
‘Eventually,’ she and Mackie said, in unison.
All three laughed. ‘It’s the same with my daughter and Andy,’ Skinner chuckled. ‘One minute they’re gung-ho, and the reception’s almost booked, then something comes up and it goes on hold again. As I understand it, right now Alex wants to complete her training period with her firm, and take her exams for the Bar.’
Mackie looked at him in surprise. ‘The Bar. So that would mean she could wind up cross-examining Andy in a murder trial?’
‘Exactly: a point which has occurred so far to neither of those bright people, but one which I might have to bring up myself.’
Mackie was serious once more. ‘What are you going to do about Archergait’s murder, Boss? How are you going to investigate it?’