Skinner's ghosts

'When we find the bullet that killed your wife. Minister, it will tell us whether the gun has been used in an earlier crime, but it's highly unlikely that it will tel us who pul ed the trigger.'

Anderson nodded. 'I understand.' He sighed. 'To think that I turned down the chance of Protection Squad cover. What a bloody self-confident fool I am.'

'No,' said Skinner, quickly and emphatical y. 'Don't torture yourself with that one, sir. They'd have been with you, not your wife and daughter.'

'Okay. That's some comfort. Now what can we do to catch this man?'

'We've already blocked every main road out of Edinburgh,' Martin replied. 'However, he may have gone to ground in the city itself.

Alternatively, he had plenty of time to make it out of the city before our officers were in place.

'To be frank, sir, I don't see this man simply driving up to a roadblock. He's too thorough.' The Head ofCID paused. 'How long had your wife been going to Charlie Kettles on Saturday mornings?'

'About three months.'

'And taking Tanya every second week. The man must have been watching her for al of that time, establishing a pattern, planning. He must have watched Leona McGrath in the same way.'

Anderson twisted in his chair, to look at Skinner. 'Need this be the same man? Couldn't it be a copycat?'

'Aye,' said Skinner, 'it could. But it isn't. It's the same man. I received a tape this morning.' He looked round, and saw a midi hi-fi unit on a sideboard behind the couch. 'Listen to this.'

He took the copy of Mark McGrath's message from his pocket, slid it into the tape player, and switched it on. Anderson listened in silence, as the child's voice filled the room. Gradually, his face twisted in anguish, and he began to sob.

The two detectives waited, as he composed himself once more.

'Sorry, gentlemen,' he said at last. 'It's all just too much.'

'I know,' Skinner whispered. 'My daughter was kidnapped once.'

The Secretary of State looked up at him. 'Did you catch the man who did it?'

'Oh yes,' said the detective, even more softly than before. 'I caught him. He won't do it again. I'l catch this bastard too, and neither will he.'

Anderson smiled, weakly. 'I'd better lift your suspension, then, pending the outcome of the enquiry.'

'No. Don't do that. I don't know for sure, but it may be better if this man thinks I'm out of the action.'

'Whatever you want. So how wil you catch him. Bob?'

'I'll wait. The next move is his. When he makes it, I'l be ready for him if he makes the slightest mistake. Sooner or later, he will.'

Anderson sighed. 'Oh my God, but I hope so.' He looked at the two detectives, numbly, from one to the other. 'Is this political, gentlemen?' he asked, bewildered

'It has to be,' Skinner replied. 'Two MPs' children snatched. A Member and a Member's wife murdered. And yet it could be personal too in some way. The man chooses to contact me. There's a link between Leona and me, and between Mark and me. There's a link between you and me, Dr Anderson. So it could be aimed at me, somehow. Or it could be all about money.

'We'l know soon, when he contacts us again. For now Andy and I will just have to do the thing we're worst at.'

'What's that?'

'The waiting.' He rose from his seat. 'We'l send a car for you, Dr Anderson, when your wife is ready for a visit. It'll be within the 187 hour, I hope. We'l use the back entrance for your privacy.'

'Also,' said Martin. 'I'll put armed officers in position, front and back.'

'What's the point?' replied the Secretary of State. 'The horse has bolted.'

'Still.' The Head ofCID followed Skinner out of the room, all the way down the stairs to the back door at the sub-basement level.

'Here,' he began, at last, as they slid into the Mondeo, 'upstairs, when you were talking about motives, you said something odd: about links.'

'I know,' said Skinner. 'I should have told you before, and I better had now. Because I'm pretty certain you're going to find out anyway.'

56

It was the most tumultuous press conference that Martin had ever attended, let alone chaired. The murder of a cabinet minister's wife, and the kidnap of a second politician's child.

For the first time in his life, he had felt that the media were out to get him, and although he had been as careful as he could not to al ow words to be put into his mouth, he knew that he would be lucky if only a few newspapers questioned his competence and hinted that Skinner's suspension was compromising the investigation.

The DCC was gone when he returned to his office, en route for the airport to pick up Pam from her return flight. Martin sat with his head in his hands, feeling helpless, as the first radio news bulletins were already beginning to say, and very alone.

He was grateful for the sound of the telephone, even though he did not have the slightest expectation that it might be bringing him good news.

He snatched the hand-set out of its cradle. 'Martin,' he said, eagerly.

'Hi, Andy. I like it when someone's pleased to hear from me.'

Such was the clarity of his voice that the man on the line might have been in the next room, but the Chief Superintendent knew that he was calling from Washington. 'Hi Joe,' he responded. 'Yes it is good to hear from you. I feel like I'm running out of friends, and luck, just at the moment.'

'Jesus, kid,' drawled the American. 'What size of dog's crapped on your lawn?'

Quickly, Martin told him of the morning's atrocity, and of the earlier surprise in Skinner's morning mail. 'I see what you mean,' said Joe Doherty, tersely. 'I would say that you are dealing with a real Lulu there. Yes indeed, a real peach. I take it you've looked for a terrorist connection.'

'Joe, we've looked for every sort of connection, and come up blank.

Like Bob says, al we can do now is wait for the guy to make his next move, and hope that he makes a mistake. You never know, maybe we wil get something from Mark's message tape.'

'Yeah, you never know. But just don't hope for anything; then at least you won't be disappointed.'

There was a pause: as Doherty drew on a cigarette, Martin guessed.

'How's Bob bearing up?' he asked at last.

'He's like a grizzly with a hangover… and piles. After all that's happened in his life over the last year or so, he really did not need this nonsense from Spotlight. Did you appreciate that Pam, who cal ed you yesterday, is the new woman?'

'I put two and two together. Bob cal ed me, beginning of last week, and asked me to make sure that Sarah wasn't bothered. He told me then about his… domestic alterations, let's say.

'What's gone wrong with him, Andy?'

'I don't know, Joe. Truth is, I don't think he does either. Did you speak to Sarah?'

'Yeah, I cal ed her.'

'How did she sound?'

'Hurt and confused. Just like Bob, real y.'

'Ahh!' cried Martin, despairing. 'I just feel helpless. And for these corruption al egations to come on top of it al.'

'Yeah,' said Doherty. 'Ms Masters told me about that. What the tuck is that about?'

'Someone's set him up. He has people working on it, Alex among them. I hope she'll bring back some good news tonight. We sure as hell need some.'

He forced himself to sound more upbeat. 'Anyway, why this cal at the US Government's expense? Have you got anything for me on this miserable rag that's crucifying my friend?'

'I've got some. Spotlight is quite an institution over here you know.

It's making inroads in Great Britain too, as you have reason to know.

The story about Bob and Pam got it the sort of national attention it's been after.'

'So who owns it?'

'A straight question: not such a straight answer. In the first instance, Spotlight belongs to a corporation registered in Chicago. It owns just that one news magazine, but also a string of cracker radio stations, mostly though not al in the South.'