Jim Glossop clasped his hands together. ‘Probably. All of us, when we’re born, are given a number; a National Health Service number. It’s a bit like herpes; once you’ve got it, you’re stuck with it for life.
‘What else can you tell me about Beatrice Lewis?’ he asked.
‘She was born in Dundee. She’s dead, but had she survived she’d be sixty. The birth may have been registered by her uncle, Michael Conran, of Fraserburgh.’
As Skinner spoke, the man scribbled notes in a pad. ‘That’s enough to be going on with. Beatrice Lewis, Michael Conran, Fraserburgh, mid to late fifties. Leave me your number, Mr Skinner. I’ll call you as soon as I have anything to tell you.
‘If this woman gave birth anywhere in Scotland under the name you’ve given me, I’ll find out about it.’
79
Alexis Skinner stared through the glass wall of her office. The thing which concerned her most was not that she and her fiancé had had a blazing row, but that they had not.
Andy was one of the calmest people she had ever known. She had never seen his temper raised to boiling point. But she knew that the way in which he had switched off, had become even calmer, and suddenly sad, during their argument over careers and babies, was a much more serious indicator of his feelings than any explosion would have been.
They had decided to drop the subject for a few days, to give each other time to reflect. The night before Andy had passed on her father’s advice, to put their problem on a future agenda, and concentrate on being happy today. She knew that her dad meant well, yet also that when he and Sarah had hit their crisis, it was guidance which he had been unable to follow himself. This was something on today’s agenda, and it would determine her future, and Andy’s.
As her mind and her eyes came back into focus, she was aware suddenly of a figure standing in the open office area beyond the glass wall, looking at her intently. It was Mitchell Laidlaw. She gulped inwardly, and went back to the papers on her desk, yet out of a corner of her eye she still saw him move towards her, then heard the soft click of her door opening.
‘Grappling with a legal poser, young lady?’ the head of the firm asked.
‘No,’ she responded. ‘I understand the issues in the Provincial Insurance matter, and I think I know the best way of approaching them. I’m sorry, Mr Laidlaw. My mind was wandering there.’
‘I know,’ he said, kindly. ‘It’s not like you to frown like that, Alex. Is it a work problem?’
She sighed, and pushed her chair back from her desk. ‘Yes and no,’ she confessed. ‘It’s partly personal, and partly professional. After our discussion the other day about my possible future with the firm, I broached the subject with Andy.
‘Let’s just say that he has a different vision of the future.’
‘He doesn’t like the idea of you aiming for a partnership here?’
‘No, it isn’t that, so much. Andy has his own ambitions, for the two of us. He knows what he wants, but the trouble is that his vision is likely to conflict with my career plans.’
Laidlaw frowned. ‘You’re not saying he’s told you to choose between him and your career, are you?’
‘He might as well have. What he’s saying is, “Do it my way, or we may not be doing it at all”, and I don’t know if I can accept that.’ She stopped. ‘Look, I’m sorry. It’s our problem and I didn’t mean to bring it to the office. I promise I’ll leave it at home in future and get on with my work.’
‘No, no, no. This is a close-knit firm, for all its size. Tell me how I can help you? Would you like me to phone Andy?’
She looked at him in horror. ‘No, please. That wouldn’t help at all.’
Alex shook her head in a gesture of despair. ‘I really am a silly little cow, you know. My timing always has been lousy. I shouldn’t have raised this at all just now, not while he’s still got this armed robbery stuff on his plate.’
Mitch Laidlaw’s eyebrows rose. ‘Oh? I thought that was all sorted now. At least that’s the impression the press gave me.’
She glanced at him. ‘Don’t repeat this, but that’s what the press are meant to think. Andy’s still looking for someone, the man he believes planned the whole thing and then killed Bennett, Saunders and Collins.’
‘Is that so? The papers are suggesting that these men Newton and Clark did that. They’re talking about a feud within the gang.’
‘That’s just speculation that Alan Royston hasn’t bothered to refute. The man Andy’s searching for has been seen with the gang, and with the woman who gave them the information that set up the diamond robbery at Raglan’s. He doesn’t know anything about him, other than that the rest of the gang all called him by the nickname Hamburger.’
Laidlaw chuckled. ‘So poor Andy and his squad are checking out every fast food bar in Edinburgh looking for suspects, are they? You did choose a bad time for a serious discussion, didn’t you. A man called Hamburger, indeed.’
He looked down at her. ‘To be serious once again, young lady, if you’re willing, I’d like to take you and Andy for supper one night soon. I’m keen to keep you in this firm, and I’d like to talk to you about how we can best do that, and keep your relationship on an even keel as well.
‘I’ll ask my secretary to give you some dates to choose from.’
She smiled. ‘Thanks very much, Mr Laidlaw. I’ll talk Andy into coming along. There’s just one thing, though. No hamburgers on the menu, please.’
The lawyer’s laughter rang out as he opened the door. . then suddenly it stopped, as he closed it again.
‘Alex,’ he said, ‘I’ve just had the daftest idea. Would you like to get your fiancé on the phone, please.’
80
Sammy Pye looked out of the window of the small room near the Head of CID’s suite. ‘It’s a nice day out there, Mr Ankrah,’ he said. ‘The sooner we’re out of this place the better.’
‘I agree. But this is a job which must be done.’
‘I know. I just need to give my eyes a rest, that’s all.’ He stood up and leaned to one side and the other, stretching his sinews; fingers interlinked, he stretched his arms above his head until they touched the ceiling.
‘What would you think of this weather in Africa, sir?’ he asked.
‘In Africa, Sammy, we would call this. . winter!’ The Ghanaian grinned, flashing shining teeth. ‘When I go home, I plan to invite some officers from Edinburgh on a reciprocal visit. I thought you might like to be one of them.’
‘Lead me to it, sir,’ the young detective constable responded eagerly.
‘And Sergeant Neville, of course. It would be only right to invite you both.’
‘What do you mean sir?’ Pye’s expression was blank innocence.
‘You know damn well what I mean.You may be discreet in everything you say and do, but I am a student of body language. Yours and the pretty sergeant’s give you away to me.’
The DC looked at him cautiously. ‘How?’
‘It is in the inflection of your voice when you speak to each other; the way in which your postures relax. Your bodies are comfortable together; they know each other, and to a practised eye it shows.’
‘But we’re just good friends, sir.’
Ankrah nodded, and grinned again. ‘Yes. But very good friends. Now come on. Let’s finish viewing these tapes.’ They turned back to face the monitor, and Pye pressed the play button on the video recorder.
They were watching one of the sharper, cleaner tapes. The colour was unblurred although the figures moved jerkily on the screen, a result of the slow-speed recording. The tape showed the Galashiels bank, and it had been recorded on a Monday, less than two weeks before the robbery and shooting.
The customers that morning had been few and far between; a burst of men in the first hour of business. . Publicans, Pye guessed, depositing their weekend takings. . but after that they had slowed to a trickle of mostly older people, interspersed by the occasional shop staff member sent out for change.