Skinner took the few steps back to his practice bucket, where Darren Atkinson stood waiting.
'What did Morton say to him?' he asked.
`Well my Italian isn't that great, but I think that "Sleep with the fishes" just about covers it!'
Twenty-two
‘Christ, Bob I wish I'd been there! From the sound of things, the mobster in Morton must still be pretty near the surface.'
`No doubt about that, Joseph. I've seen that look only a few times in my life. Right at that moment, Morton would have killed Masur, given the means and the opportunity.'
Doherty scratched his chin. 'It's as well he didn't have either then. The Yakuza would have taken a dim view of that. From what Atkinson told you, I'd guess that they've told Nakamura that he's going to sign with the home-boys.'
Skinner nodded. 'That's a fair guess. Morton may not take it lying down, though. Still, "Star Wars" between him and Masur and their backers isn't my worry, as long as it doesn't happen here. I've got another priority, and what I saw today of Mike Morton when he's crossed makes me even more interested in him in connection with the White murder.'
The two policemen and Sarah were sat round the small table in the conservatory, the remains of a meal before them. It was just after 10 p.m., and Jazz had been settled soundly in his cot for over an hour. They sat for another half-hour until Doherty, who had decided to extend his stay in Scotland to visit Special Branch heads around the country, pleaded tiredness and retired for the night.
`So how did you two Yanks get on while I was out?' Bob asked his wife, in their bedroom, as he watched her undress.
`Great. He's quite a character is Joe. He worked in New York for a while, so we had some common ground. That can be a problem for us. The US is such a big place that when a New Yorker meets a Midwesterner it can be like encountering someone from a whole different country.' She stepped out of her jeans and pants and turned, naked, to face him. He smiled at her, admiring the way in which her exercise regime had helped her recover a flat, if stretch-marked, abdomen so soon after childbirth. She misunderstood his expression and took a heavy breast in each hand. 'Yeah, they're still monsters, ain't they? But get ready to bid them farewell. Another couple of weeks and Jazz is on the bottle. Natural feeding and my new university job just won't mix'
She slipped into bed, nestling beside him, her swollen breasts hot and heavy on his chest. 'So how about you, my love? Apart from breaking up a gang-fight, how did you do this evening?'
He smiled. 'Couldn't have been better. The world's greatest golfer cured my putting problem, and I met up with my titled caddy in the bar afterwards. I suspect that Darren's the real reason she's offered to pull my trolley.'
As long as that's all she pulls,' said Sarah. She disappeared below the duvet. A few seconds later his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in an involuntary gasp.
Wednesday
Twenty-three
Gullane was easing itself into a wakeful state… or as close to that condition as it could manage… when Skinner slid his car into its main street, and headed, past the Old Smiddy on the left, for Edinburgh.
He drove slowly past the first tee of Number One course where a clutch of caddies stood waiting, hopefully, for their morning hires. He nodded in their direction. 'They're probably expecting a party of your countrymen, over for the tournament. We don't usually see so many of these fellas around so early on a weekday morning.'
Beside him Doherty shifted in his seat. 'When does the thing begin?'
`The main event begins tomorrow, but this is the official practice day, with the course and the tented village open to the paying public. Darren's taking us out for a round at one-thirty. He thought it would be a good idea to get the team used to the crowds. Can't say I'm looking forward to the chance of making a chump of myself in public!'
Doherty grinned. 'Come on, Bob, surely you've done that, before!'
'Cheeky bastard! I suppose I have done a few times in the 'Mess box, but doing it on a golf course'll be a first. You know at it's like when you have a raw suspect in for questioning, and he sits there wondering what it's going to be like, so nervous that you'd swear you can hear his arsehole pucker? Well that'll be me, facing my first shot this afternoon.'
Instead of sticking to his normal route along the coast, he took the exit at Luffness corner and up the mile-long straight, then following the road westward until it led past the entrance to Witches' Hill. He eased his foot on the throttle pedal, and glanced over towards the practice ground, where a solitary figure stood in the address position. 'That's the man, Joe,' he said to Doherty as a perfect swing sent a tiny white speck soaring through the air. 'That's Darren.
Look at the time and it'll tell you why he's Number One. No one's perfect, but the more he practises, the closer he gets.'
He picked up speed again and headed towards Longniddry and, beyond, Edinburgh. They drove in silence for a while, watching the thickening traffic heading in the opposite direction, towards Witches' Hill, until Skinner spoke suddenly. I'm glad you're sticking around for a while, Joe. I know you want to freshen up your Special Branch contacts in the other forces, but before you do that, could you maybe do me — and Brian Mackie — a favour?'
Doherty blinked and looked across at him. 'Name it, my man and it's yours.'
Skinner eased the car up the rise which led out of Longniddry. I'd like to call on the resources of the World's Greatest Law Enforcement thingy once more.
`The more I think about the way Morton reacted to Masur yesterday, the more I fancy him to be involved with the White murder. Now I know that when Michael was killed he was in another room surrounded by witnesses, but if a job's worth doing… it's worth paying someone to do it well!' said Doherty, nodding, and picking up Skinner's favourite saying.
`Right. So what I'd like you to do is ask the Bureau to look again at SSC, but to look past Morton, or Morticelli, and to pull out everything they know about his associates in the company, and anywhere else for that matter. I'm sure that they'll all be law-school guys like Morton, or accountants, but I'd like them all checked out, just to find out whether anyone isn't what he seems. While you're doing that, I'm going to do some digging at the UK end.
Is that OK?'
`Sure,' said Doherty. He glanced at his watch. The time was 8.03 a.m. 'I'll take great pleasure in waking the duty team from their beauty sleep. God knows, they've done it to me often enough!'
Twenty-four
Ruth McConnell was already at her desk when Skinner arrived in the Command Suite, having installed Doherty in Brian Mackie's Special Branch office.
She made to stand up but he waved her back into her chair. 'Good morning, sir,' she said brightly. 'How was your golf?'
OK,' he grinned, beginning to flick through the morning's post, which lay, opened, in a pile on Ruth's side table. 'By my standards, anyway. But I'm playing for the next five days with a man who reckons he can break sixty… and I'm quite sure he can.'
`Better have some coffee to steady your nerves, then. Your filter machine should have brewed by now. I've laid out a plate of biscuits for your visitors.'
He looked up from his mail. 'Visitors.'
`Yes sir, Detective Superintendent Higgins asked if she could see you at nine, and Miss Rose wanted me to keep some of your time free for her.'
`That's fine. I'll see them both, but I don't want to do it in my office. Book a conference room for nine-thirty, and tell Miss Higgins that I want a full meeting. As well as Maggie Rose, she should have Brian Mackie there; oh yes, and McGuire and McIlhenney. I want you there too, to produce a record, and Alan Royston, since we might decide to issue an update report to the media.'