‘Not a fucking word, mate; you’re not that special. However, you might like to call another chum of yours, the First Minister. I reckon Aileen will have put his nose mightily out of joint.’
‘Thanks for that, and the rest. Cheers.’
The chief was unfamiliar with the telephone console on his desk, but he had noticed a red light flashing during the last couple of minutes of his conversation with Fox. As he hung up he discovered what it was for as the bell sounded, almost instantly. He picked up the receiver, expecting to hear the switchboard operator, or Lowell Payne, but it was neither.
‘Yes,’ he began.
‘Bob,’ a male voice snapped back at him, ‘can’t you keep that bloody wife of yours under control?’
‘Hello, Clive,’ he replied. ‘Funny you should call. Your name just came up in conversation.’
‘I’m not surprised. Your ears must have been burning too. Do you know what Aileen’s done?’
‘Yes.’
‘When did you know?’
‘I first became aware of it about ten minutes ago. Clive,’ Skinner asked, ‘what the fuck are you on about? Haven’t you read any newspapers today?’
‘No I haven’t. I’m not in the office. I’ve spent the last thirty-six hours incommunicado, comforting my distraught wife. She’s under sedation, Bob. I’m still trying, but failing, to make her believe that I wasn’t the target. . although the truth is, I’m not a hundred per cent sure of that myself.
‘But more than that, it’s not just the thought of me with my brains on the floor that’s got to her, it’s the notion that if she had come with me, and not Toni, she’d have copped it. So you’ll see, Bob, reading the press hasn’t been at the top of my agenda. My political office has only just emailed me the unification press release Labour have put out.’
‘And that’s all they’ve sent you?’
‘That’s all.’
‘Then you should shake up all your press people, in the party and in government. Somebody should have told you that two hours ago my dear wife and I announced that we’ve split. They should also have told you to check out today’s Daily News. You’re going to have fun with that come next First Minister’s Questions at Holyrood, I promise you.’
He heard the First Minster draw a deep breath, then let it out slowly. ‘Then I apologise, Bob,’ he said, quietly. ‘The government people are supposed to brief me constantly on what’s happening in the media, partly to ensure that I don’t make any embarrassing phone calls like this one. I told them, firmly, to leave me alone, but when the troops are afraid to override your orders when necessary, that makes you a bad general.’
‘Or an authoritarian bully,’ Skinner murmured.
‘What?’
‘Nothing. You can tell Mrs Graham to calm down. We have absolute proof that Toni was the target. They were set up and waiting for her.’
‘Are you certain?’
Skinner snorted. ‘I appreciate that you’re a politician, but even you must know what “absolute” means.’
‘But how did they know she’d be there?’ the First Minister asked, sounding more than a little puzzled.
‘When did you invite her to accompany you?’
‘Two weeks ago.’
‘Yeah, well, one day later Toni posted the engagement on bloody Twitter, and on the Strathclyde force website. She set herself up.’
‘But who’d want to kill her? I know she was abrasive, but. .’
‘I’ve got a team of talented people trying to find that out,’ the chief replied, ‘and I imagine that right now they’re waiting in my assistant’s office.’
‘Then I won’t delay you further. Again, I’m sorry I went off at half cock.’
‘No worries. For what it’s worth, I reckon I know why Aileen broke ranks on unification. You might not realise it, if you’ve been cloistered since Saturday, but you’ve become something of a media hero, thanks to Joey Morocco’s eyewitness account. He’s seen a few things up close in the last couple of days, has our Joey. With the election coming up, Aileen couldn’t let that go uncountered. It’s the way she thinks.’
‘I suppose it is, and I might even understand it. It won’t do her any good though. I’ve seen our private polls: Labour will be crushed, and her career will be over.’
Bob laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it, Clive. She has a plan for every contingency. She’s like Gloria Gaynor: she will survive. Get on with you now. Go and give your wife the good news.’
Twenty-Seven
‘Will I survive this, Alf?’ Aileen asked, leaning forward across the table, with a goblet of red wine warming in her cupped hands.
‘I’ll treat that as rhetorical,’ the chief officer replied. ‘You’ve just locked up the female vote within the party; as for the men, they were eating out of your hand anyway.’
‘But tomorrow’s coverage will be all about me dropping the bomb on that twat Hatton, and not about the policy initiative I announced.’
‘Aileen, you and I both know that is bollocks; the announcement doesn’t matter. We don’t make policy any more, the SNP do.’
‘But they need us to get unification through fast,’ she countered.
‘No, they don’t. You and Clive Graham agreed to rush it through before the election so that it doesn’t become an issue that the Tories could score with, but the Lib Dems are for it as well, and even in a minority situation their votes would see the bill through. That’s if he tables it at all. The poll’s in a few weeks, and you’ve just removed police structure as an issue anyway by announcing that we’re for it.’
‘You’re saying that if I’ve pissed him off with my challenge he might walk away from our agreement.’
‘Indeed I am.’ He glanced around the basement restaurant to which they had retreated, checking that they were still alone and that no journalists had followed them there. ‘But so what? It’s irrelevant alongside the campaign that’s ahead of us. With everything that’s happened, are you sure you’re ready for it?’
She looked him in the eye. ‘How long have you known me, Alf?’
He scratched his chin. ‘Twenty years?’ he ventured.
‘Exactly, since our young socialist days. And in all that time have you ever known me not to be up for a battle?’
‘No,’ he admitted. ‘But you’ve never been in circumstances like these before. You’ve had a horrendous forty-eight hours.’
‘Horrendous in what way? My marriage has broken up. That happens to more than ten thousand of my fellow Scots every year, and probably as many again who end cohabiting relationships. And although the statement Bob made me agree to was bland and consensual, the idiot woman Hatton just succeeded in portraying me as the partner who’s been wronged. Don’t you imagine that was in my mind when I staged my walk-out?’
‘Are you saying that wasn’t spontaneous?’
She hesitated. ‘No, I’m not, but even before I reached the door I could see the positives in it. Can’t you?’
‘I suppose so,’ he admitted.
‘Exactly. So, my other personal disaster: what of that? My body was all over today’s Daily News, and by now it’ll have gone viral on the internet. But I’ve read the story, there and in all the other papers. Not one has said that Joey was actually in the room, because no way can they prove it, so their lawyers wouldn’t let them. Neither of us will ever admit that he was, so what am I, Alf? A victim of the paparazzi, that’s what, and that’s how the party has to spin it. Understood?’
‘Understood,’ he agreed, ‘but you didn’t have to spell it out. Our communications people have been doing that since the story broke, both here and in London. You probably don’t know this, but the shadow Culture Secretary in Westminster is going to demand that the government legislates to make invasion of privacy a go-to-jail offence. They won’t do that, of course, because it can’t afford to piss off the News, but they’ll make sympathetic noises.’
‘I’ll bet they will. The last thing they want is Clive Graham with an absolute majority.’ She smiled. ‘Do you still think I’m not up for a fight?’