As Wilson finished Allingham coughed quietly and spoke. ‘Gentlemen, I should tell you also that I have been instructed personally this morning by the Foreign Secretary. You will find that he shares the Lord Advocate’s view. He believes that it would not be in the national interest for us to seek the removal of Yobatu san’s diplomatic immunity. It was his hope that this meeting would result in the immediate repatriation of Yobatu san to Japan, on a voluntary basis of course. Your Excellency will understand that the Foreign Secretary wishes to avoid the necessity of declaring him persona non grata.’
Four of the five policemen sat shocked and silent.
Only Skinner hurled a response back across the table. ‘And has your Foreign Secretary told our Secretary of State that he intends to interfere in his territory? Poor wee Mrs Rafferty was his constituent. Does your man know that?’
Wilson replied for Allingham. ‘Mr Fairchild has been told, Chief Superintendent. As far as territory goes, when a person has a diplomatic passport, technically the ground on which he stands becomes foreign soil.’
‘Don’t lecture me on the law, mister!’
‘Please don’t take it personally, Mr Skinner. The Secretary of State accepts the fact of the matter.’
‘So did Pontius fucking Pilate!’
Gently, Proud placed a hand on Skinner’s sleeve.
‘So what do we tell our people?’ the Chief Constable asked. ‘That we’ve caught the bogeyman but that the politicians won’t let us touch him? His tone reassured Skinner.
Allingham and Wilson began to reply in duet. Allingham nodded and Wilson went on. ‘You’re not going to tell the people anything, Mr Proud. We, and I speak here with the authority of the Lord Advocate, and through Mr Allingham, the Foreign Secretary, do not wish this to become a public issue.’
Skinner laughed harshly. ‘Look, pal, six dead people make it a public issue!’
‘And one which will remain unresolved. We do not wish to see pressure growing for Yobatu to be tried. As we have said, ministers are determined to protect the principle of diplomatic status.’
Skinner looked from Allingham to Wilson and back again.
‘This whole meeting has been a sham, hasn’t it. You two bastards have had your heads together earlier on, to ensure that your bosses get the result they want. You’ve conned us, you’ve conned the Ambassador and now you’re proposing to con the people. Just who do you think you are? How do you think you can stop us from going public on this. I answer to my Chief, and he answers to the Courts, not to you. How can you stop him, or me, from walking out of this room and making a statement to the press?’
But even as he threw down the challenge, turning to find a look of furious defiance in Proud’s eyes, Skinner knew that it was a bluff. And even as the Chief opened his mouth to back him, Wilson called it.
‘Come on now, Chief Superintendent, I see that I do have to remind you of the law. You must know full well that in criminal investigations you are the agents of the Lord Advocate. You answer to him, not the Courts, and I have just told you what his instructions are, or at least what they will certainly be. I’m sorry, Chief Superintendent. There it is. Ministers have reached a clear view; we all will have to live with it.’
‘Sure,’ said Skinner his voice laden with contempt, ‘unlike Shun Lee, Mike Mortimer, John Doe the Wino, Mary Rafferty, lain MacVicar, and Rachel Jameson we’ll have to live with it. And in five years or so, when people see a few quid to be made from a nice gory book about the Royal Mile murders, and point the finger at us as the idiot coppers who couldn’t catch the maniac, we’ll have to live with that, too.’
He looked across at Allingham. ‘What will you boys do when some clever journalist follows the trail we’ve followed, comes to the same conclusion, and makes it the last chapter of one of those books?’
‘It won’t be published.’
‘Or if an MP is persuaded to put down a question?’
‘It won’t be accepted.’
‘And if there’s any other way you’ll block that up too. Right?’
‘Yes, Mr Skinner, that is correct. We have the power to do all that and we will use it should it ever become necessary. This is a story that will not be told.’
Skinner glared at Allingham. Silence hung over the table.
It was Shi-Bachi who broke it. ‘But can you stop me from telling this tale in Japan, Mr Allingham?’
Everyone, including Wilson, whose expression was suddenly shocked, looked at the Foreign Office man.
Allingham raised his hands from the table, steepled them and looked closely at his finger tips. After what seemed like an age, he turned to Shi-Bachi and answered him in a voice so low that it was as if he was afraid that he might be overheard. ‘Yes, Your Excellency, I think that you would find that we can.’
Shi-Bachi shook his head, but it was in recognition of the certainty with which the man spoke, rather than in disbelief. He looked Skinner in the eye, and said sadly, ‘Then I am afraid, gentlemen, that there is no more to be said. I am sorry that you are so badly treated.’
He rose, and the policemen opposite rose with him. He bowed shortly. Only Skinner returned the salutation as the Ambassador turned, opened the brass-handled door behind his chair, and walked out of the room. Without a word, Allingham turned and made to follow.
‘Hold on, you!’ The Chief Constable’s voice boomed like thunder, ahead of a gathering storm. Skinner had never heard that tone from his boss before. He guessed that Allingham was about to discover how Proud Jimmy felt about being shown by an interloper, in his own office, the limitations of his power.
Allingham stopped in his tracks.
‘You’ve made this mess. You clean it up. I want Yobatu san off my patch and on his way back to Japan, asleep or not, before this day is out. You will make that happen.
‘If you try to leave Edinburgh before the arrangements are made and under way, I will have you arrested. And in this city, I have the power to do that.
‘Martin, go with this man, and make sure that he does what he’s told.’
Allingham’s face flushed but he said nothing. He left the room with Martin, purposeful, at his heel. The Strathclyde detectives looked at Proud in undisguised admiration. He thanked them as they left. For Wilson he had only a glare of dismissal.
38
Skinner turned to go, but Proud stopped him. ‘Hang on a minute, Bob. Sit down.’ He settled into one of two leather armchairs set on either side of a coffee table in the middle of the big room, and motioned Skinner towards the other.
Proud hesitated, as if considering his choice of words very carefully. At last, he said, ‘Bob, you and I are different sorts of policemen. Let me put it this way. I’m a policeman, but you’re a copper, in the best sense of the word. You have an understanding of the job and a feel for it that I, even at my exalted rank, have never had. I see it as something that is necessary to society, and I tend to approach it dispassionately. That works for me. But you, you care so much.
‘I’m an administrator, you’re a motivator. I feel bad enough about all this, but I can only imagine how gutted you must be at the way it’s turned out. You’ve been a detective for most of your career. That’s a dirty job, but there are times when my job can get dirty too; you’ve just been involved in one of them. I hate creeps like that man Allingham, but believe me, there are worse than him about. You’ll find that out when you’re sat behind that desk over there.’
Skinner looked at him in astonishment. Proud Jimmy had never talked to him like this before, had never mentioned him as a possible Chief.
‘Maybe I don’t want that,’ he began, cautiously.