Martin looked at him in surprise. ‘What, are you saying that “the evil has gone from the air”?’
He shook his head grimly. ‘No, it doesn’t smell like that. This guy’s evil, okay. But not the black cloak, horns and tail type. At the moment we’re the ones with tails. The bugger’s got us chasing them and somewhere, he’s loving it and laughing at us.’
Martin did not bother to ask Skinner about the basis of his belief. He knew that his style was to drum information, logic and careful analysis into all of his troops. Then every so often, if they were stuck in a rut and going nowhere on an enquiry, he would project himself somehow into the mind of the villains, follow a hunch and break the deadlock.
‘So what about the stake-out, boss? Do we give it a couple of nights and scale it down?’
Suddenly Skinner was vehement. ‘No. We’ve got a public duty, Andy. We keep them up, full strength, armed men and all, and we maintain them at that level for at least a week, or until I’m proved wrong and we nab this bastard. But not you, Andy, not you. I’ve got something else in mind for you. I’ll tell you tomorrow.’
And after their night on the streets, as they sat in the High Street Office nursing huge mugs of hot tea, Skinner kept his word.
‘You know Alec Smith? He’s handing in his papers. Retiring after the New Year. He’s landed a job with one of the big private security firms as their head bummer in Scotland. A fancy salary and a Jag, to top up his pension. I want you to take his place as Head of Special Branch.
‘Mind you, this isn’t an order. You’ve got to be willing. It means a rigorous vetting by outside people, and maybe even a few questions you won’t like, but you’ll understand why they’re necessary. If the process seems like an invasion of privacy, maybe the promotion will make up for that.’
Skinner paused and looked Martin in the eye. ‘Well, do you want the job?’
Contrary to popular myth, there is no centrally controlled organisation called Special Branch, with tentacles all over the nation, run from a false-front office by a man called X or Y or even M. But within each police force there are certain detective officers whose duties are not connected with routine police work, or in the normal course of events with the investigation of crime. Special Branch officers are responsible on their own territory for the physical security of royal and political VIPs adding manpower and local knowledge to the permanent protection staff.
Special Branch officers also maintain a discreet surveillance over terrorist suspects, potential agitators, crackpot revolutionaries and general troublemakers. Their criminal investigative functions extend to offences against the State, or involving the security of the Nation.
In these and in some other circumstances, they will link with that genuinely secret apparatus of State known euphemistically as the Security Service. However on a routine basis, Special Branch officers report to their Chief Constable and Head of CID.
Special Branch activities in the Edinburgh area were under the command of Chief Inspector Alec Smith, a man of renowned judgement and unflappability. Martin was well aware that if he succeeded the veteran he would become the youngest officer ever to hold that private post.
He voiced this thought to Skinner. ‘Do you think I’m ready for it?’
‘Of course I bloody do, or I wouldn’t be offering it to you. Look, Andy, you’ve got it in you to be Chief Constable of this or of some other force. On the way to that you’re going to succeed me as Head of CID some day.
‘You take this number, Andy. You’re ready for it, it’s bloody interesting and it’ll do you the world of good in career terms.’
‘I’ll miss working with you, Bob.’ The decision is made, thought Skinner.
‘Don’t worry. You’ll still be working with me. What you, even you, don’t know, is the amount of contact I have with Alec Smith. He reports to me and so will you.’
‘Doesn’t he report to the Chief, too?’
‘In theory yes, in practice not too much. There are some things that the gaffer doesn’t need to know about, unless and until they’re likely to go critical. For instance, if he knew all there was to know about some of the characters on the Police Committee, he’d never be able to look them in the eye.’
With that, Skinner looked Martin squarely in the eye. ‘Right, Andy, so the answer’s yes, is it?’
‘Of course it is, boss, and thank you very much. When do the snoopers start on me?’
‘They started-on you two days ago, as soon as the Chief had approved the appointment. It seems that your bank manager has done as he was told and kept his mouth shut. As of tomorrow you start a hand-over with Alec Smith. The Royal Visit that’s coming up should give you a good start.’
15
The Japanese man was there as Rachel Jameson rose to begin her cross-examination.
As usual, the tight wig sat awkwardly on her head. She bowed to the Bench, pulled her gown further up her shoulders and walked towards the woman. The witness was stout, with dyed red hair. She was wearing an imitation fur jacket over a tight sweater and skirt. She had teetered into the witness box on pink high-heeled shoes. Rachel thought that she had never seen an alleged rape victim dressed less appropriately. But she knew that the vivid red scar running down the left side of the woman’s face was likely to command all of the jury’s attention.
‘Miss X, you are twenty-four; is that correct?’
‘Aye, that’s right.’ There was a new, aggressive edge to the witness’s tone. She sounds stronger today, thought Rachel. Must have popped an extra Valium.
‘Were you a virgin before the alleged attack?’
Miss X reddened. ‘Naw. Were you when you were twenty-four?’
It was Rachel’s turn to flush. Christ, she thought, that’ll have done her no good with the jury.
Severity stirred in the kindly Lord Orlach. ‘The witness will answer questions, not ask them. Madam, you must accept that counsel is entitled to examine whether your sexual history has a bearing on this trial. Hers most certainly does not.’
‘Thank you, my Lord.’ Rachel turned back to face Miss X. ‘When did you have your first sexual experience?’
‘Ye mean the full thing?’ Rachel nodded. ‘When ah was thirteen, with a boy at the school.’
‘And since that time, how many lovers have you had?’
‘God knows! Naw, wait a minute. Ah’ve had...’ she thought for several econds ‘... eight steady boyfriends, and maybe twenty or so one-offs. Ah cannae remember.’
‘So you like sex?’
‘No’ that much, tae tell you the truth, but the fellas expect it.’
‘Have you ever taken money for it?’
‘No way!’ The woman shouted her answer.
Rachel rebuked herself mentally.
‘Right, let’s accept that. Do you ever make the running, make the first sexual advances?’
‘In Barlanark, are you kiddin’?’ One or two spectators laughed. Lord Orlach threw the witness a frown.
‘So you didn’t give Mr McCann the come-on?’
‘That pig! No way.’
‘You knew him by sight, did you not?’
Miss X nodded.
‘Isn’t it the case that you once told him you fancied him?’
‘Never. I knew him by sight, but I knew about him an’ all, that he was dangerous.’
Rachel’s tone hardened as she moved quickly on to wipe that last remark from the memory of the jury. ‘Did you not invite him into your mother’s home while she was out?’
‘No ah did not. Ah telt that other fella, ah went across tae the Paki’s for a video, and when ah got back he was in the hoose!’
‘Miss X, we have heard your account of the alleged sexual attack. I won’t ask you to repeat it. However you did give a remarkably detailed description of the part of my client’s anatomy on which this case hinges. Do you always notice things like that?’