Skinner's ghosts

Pamela propped herself up on her elbows, the edge of the duvet fal ing around her waist. 'Yes,' she said softly, 'I can imagine. I'm sorry I'm such a petulant bitch.'

He laid a hand on the flat of her stomach, rubbing it gently. 'You're not,' he murmured. 'Not at al. You're under pressure too, with the Spotlight article, and those appal ing photos. With one thing and another, it's as if we're drowning, you and I.'

She laid her hand on his, half a second before it suddenly clenched, tightening on her belly. 'Drowning!' he hissed, suddenly.

30

When the telephone rang, Alex and Andy were watching a video.

One of the Batman series with interchangeable heroes and big-name villains, was reaching its conclusion.

'Damn,' said Skinner's daughter, freezing the frame and picking up the telephone, to find her father on the other end. 'Pops, really,' she said. 'We were just getting to the good bit.

'Of the movie, I meant!' She passed the phone to her fiance.

'Yes, Bob,' said Martin. 'What's the panic?'

'No panic, but a sudden thought. Quite clearly, this guy is thumbing his nose at me, with a cal to my private line from my home vil age. This guy doesn't want to get caught, but he does want to show us how clever, resourceful and daring he is. You agree with me?'

'Yes, I'l go along with that.'

'Good, now try this one for size. If this guy is an expert on me, and knows about my connection with Mark, don't you think he's bound to know where I first encountered the child?'

Martin whistled. 'You think he might be hiding him up on the moors, where the plane went down?'

'I don't think, I wonder. Let's postpone the press briefing tomorrow, and take a look up there.'

'Okay,' said the Head ofCID, shifting his position against the back of the sofa, as Alex stood up to go into the kitchen. 'I'l do that, first thing. I'l put men on al the roads, then get a helicopter to take a look at al the sheds and bothies scattered about up there.'

'It makes sense, Andy,' Skinner stressed. 'We're pretty certain that he took the laddie out of the city, yet he wouldn't have risked being too long on the road, not with him in his car. Those moors aren't much more than half an hour from the McGrath house.'

'Sure, I agree. We'l do it, first thing. Now you get some sleep and let us finish our video.'

He replaced the phone just as Alex came back into the living room, carrying two cans of Diet Coke. 'What did Pops want?' she asked.

Andy grinned. 'He's had a hunch. You know what he's like when he gets one of them.'

'Do I! Is it a good one?'

'Could be. They usual y are.'

Alex handed him his Coke, and sat beside him once again. He picked up the video control, but she put her hand on his before he could press the play button. 'Andy,' she whispered. 'Do you think my dad's losing it?'

He looked at her, surprised. 'Bob? Never. He's stil firing on al cylinders. What made you ask that, anyway?'

She leaned her head on her shoulders. 'Oh, I don't know,' she said, sadly. 'He just seems like such a lost soul just now.'

Andy touched her chin, gently, and tilted her face towards him.

'Love, you can see how much he's missing Sarah and Jazz. So can I.

So can the Chief. Your dad's the only one who doesn't realise it.'

'No.' She was suddenly indignant. 'Because he's shacked up with this Pamela woman!'

'Maybe. She was there for him when he had his bust-up with Sarah.

She helps him ward off the loneliness. Maybe he does the same for her.'

'Is she a gold-digger, d'you think? Does she have an eye for the main chance?'

He shook his head, after a few seconds' thought. 'No. I wouldn't say so. I don't think she sees herself as your next stepmother, if that's what you mean.'

'Do you like her, Andy?'

He pondered her question again. 'Yes, I reckon I do. She's bright, intelligent and she seems to care for Bob a lot. She had nothing to do with his marriage break-up, remember.'

'Maybe not, but with her around there's no chance of it being mended.'

Andy sighed. 'That, my darling, is something your dad's got to figure out for himself. Always assuming that he wants to mend it, that is.'

'And his judgement, in sleeping with this woman? What do you think of that? Honestly?'

He looked her in the eye. 'We're all entitled to make mistakes, love.'

Alex grunted. 'Let's hope the Police Board take that view tomorrow,' she said, gloomily.

31

The press benches in Edinburgh's ornate Victorian council chamber had never been more ful for a meeting of the Joint Police Board, made up of elected members of the local authorities whose areas the force covered.

The Chair of the Board, MarciaTopham, a Labour council or from Midlothian, was regarded by Sir James Proud as a moderate, and someone with whom he could work. Or as Bob Skinner often put it in private, someone whom he could twist round his little finger.

Today was different. In the ante-room, outside the chamber, the Chief Constable saw that Council or Topham looked tense and nervous. As he had anticipated. Skinner's request to address the meeting at the close of the discussion had been rejected, after consultation by the Chair with her senior colleagues.

'Like I said,' the DCC had growled. 'She's had her orders.'

A buzz went round the press gallery as the members and officials filed into the chamber, and as they saw that Bob Skinner was not in attendance. Marcia Topham frowned in their direction, but her disapproval was ignored.

She cal ed the meeting to order quickly, pounding on the old mahogany desk with her gavel. 'Ladies, gentlemen,' she said loudly, to mask the tremor in her voice. 'Let us proceed.'

She looked around the members, and nodded to the Chief Constable, who was seated in the well of the chamber, alongside the Board's solicitor. 'Item One,' she announced.

Bob Skinner grudged every minute of the time that he was forced, occasionally, to spend at Board meetings. It was an advisory body, but under the previous administration it had become a vehicle for political speeches. However, on the basis of a few months' evidence, the change of government had seen little change in the nature of the meetings.

'It stil sounds the same, Jimmy,' Skinner had grumbled. 'Different bloody axes being ground, that's al.'

The Chief Constable on the other hand, appreciated the Board. He focused on its advisory status, deciding arbitrarily which parts of its advice he would reject, and which he would accept. He understood too that the police service benefited from the lack of significant 108

"w political interference with its work, and had no intention of rocking that particular boat.

'Indulge them, Bob,' he always advised his deputy. 'Let them have their say, then let them go away home. They don't have any weight, so they can't throw it about.'

Today, though, the normally benign Chief was in no mood to be conciliatory.

The listed items on the agenda were eliminated with unprecedented speed, until, fifty minutes after opening the meeting, Councillor Topham announced: 'We now come to other business. I am advised of a motion by Councillor Agnes Maley, of Edinburgh City Council.'

Sir James looked around as Councillor Maley rose to her feet. He knew her welclass="underline" a self-confessed enemy of the police service, she owed her position of power within her party to her ability to mobilise the enlarged group of women members in her support. As she stood, short, squat and denim-clad, she was flanked by five other colleagues.

'Thank you, Chair,' she began, but had gone no further before the Chief Constable thrust himself to his feet.

'If you will excuse me, Councillor Maley,' he boomed. He glowered at the Chair. 'Council or Topham, I had assumed that you would instruct that this motion, if it has to be heard at al, should be stated without the press and public being present. Standing orders allow you to declare that sensitive items be discussed in private. I have to insist that be the case here.'