He turned on his heel and crashed out of the room, slamming the anonymous door behind him.
66
‘We’ve been warned off, Andy. Hughie Fulton, big Aberdonian shitbag that he is, told me to be happy that we can lay the blame on Yobatu, and to leave it at that. Friendly advice from a father figure, with a threat lying not far behind it.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘What do you think? I told him to get fucked. I’ve had bodies littering this city, one of them a copper, and neither powers nor principalities are going to prevent me finding out who put them there.’
‘What will he do?’
‘Try to lean on the Chief, I expect. Jimmy’ll back me for a while, but when the blackmail starts, no knighthood, that sort of thing, leading up to heavier threats, I don’t know whether he’ll hold out.
‘The thing that narks me most is that Fulton knew about our investigation. Somewhere, he’s got a spy. He knew about the money, and he suggested an explanation, one that would sound plausible if you ignored the fact that there are dead people involved. He knew about Aileen Stimson’s job, and he knew that you were coordinating things.
‘If we’re going to continue with this operation it’ll have to be tighter than a fish’s arsehole. You, Andy, I’d trust with my life, and I’m as sure as I can be of Brian Mackie. What do you think about the rest?’
Martin thought for a few moments. ‘I’d vouch for Maggie Rose. She’s rock-solid, doesn’t panic, and loves the job. The DCs are two of the closest guys you’ll ever find. Good company, great talkers in the pub, but never giving anything away, and even more important, great listeners to everything going on around them. The four of them, Brian, Maggie, McGuire and Mcllhenney, all have one other thing in common. They’re single.
‘Since they don’t have any steady partners, there’s no danger of pillow talk being passed on by accident, by some daft wife or boyfriend to a mate in the supermarket queue or in the pub.’
‘What about Aileen Stimson?’
‘We can’t rely on her. She isn’t committed to the force any longer.’
‘You’re right. Her cover’s blown too. Either one of those things would disqualify her for me. Pull her out.’
Skinner sat upright in his chair. ‘So our team is six. No one else. Wrap up the searches at the two flats and report to me on the findings. Then arrange for our people to take over the Harvey surveillance. No word on that yet?’
‘No, it’s business as usual for them. No odd moves at all.’
‘Good. That means they didn’t catch on to you.
‘One other thing. I want our team, no one else, to work on the Syrian security job when it happens. When he was still in a dealing mood, Hughie Fulton promised me all the special back-up we’ll need. The boys from Hereford and all that.’
67
The report which Martin brought to Skinner was bleak. Neither of the search locations had yielded a single clue to the reason for the secret payment to the two advocates.
‘It’s a dead end, boss. Nothing on paper, or on Mortimer’s computer disks. I’ve given Kenny Duff his keys back. As far as I’m concerned he can carry on with winding up the estates.’
Skinner considered this for a few moments. ‘Okay. Tell him we’v finished with everything, except for Mortimer’s briefcase, and the other items that we have in the Productions Store.
‘Are the team here?’ Martin nodded. ‘Let’s have them in.’
The four detectives came into the room. Skinner invited them to sit. ‘Well, people, you’re probably all bored stiff by now. I’m sure you all see this as a complete waste of time.’
McGuire shook his head.
‘Come on, Mario,’ said Skinner. ‘I sent you hunting wild geese. That’s what you’re really thinking, isn’t it?’
With a slow, wry smile, McGuire nodded his head.
Skinner smiled back. ‘Well that’s tough on you. Sometimes it comes with the warrant card and the nice suits we get to wear!
‘But seriously, I’ve been impressed by the way that you lot have done the job, regardless of the boredom. You worked well and methodically as a team. That’s why I want us all to work together on one of the most sensitive security jobs we’ve had in this city since the Pope stood under John Knox’s statue. Andy, will you explain, please.’
Martin stood up from his seat in the corner. ‘Question. Who is Hassan Al-Saddi?’
He looked from face to face. ‘No? Well, for the past six weeks or so, Mr Al-Saddi has been President of Syria. He took over following his predecessor’s enforced resignation, having been the strong man behind the scenes for some time before that.
‘He is a hard-liner, and believes that the previous incumbent was soft in his attitude to the West, and conciliatory towards Israel. Since he came to power there have been signs of a shift in the balance in the Arab world; the PLO have certainly become noisier. Get to know the name, and that face.’ He handed round a large black-and-white photograph. ‘On January the eighteenth you’re all going to be involved in protecting him when he visits Edinburgh.’
Martin described the detail of the Syrian’s visit. ‘Syria doesn’t have an embassy in this country at the moment. Later today, a Lebanese diplomat and a guy from the Foreign Office will arrive to look over the route, the hotel and the venue. Mario, you’ll drive the boss and me to meet them at the airport, and then take them to the Norton House Hotel and the MacEwan Hall. I’ve already had a quick look. All three places appear to give us the minimum security problems. Everybody on the team will be allocated specific tasks for the visit once the Lebanese representative is happy. That’s all I have to say for now.’ He resumed his seat.
‘I have a few things to add on the other matter,’ said Skinner. ‘Call it a bonus. All that boring time you’ve spent going through those files wasn’t in vain after all. The Filofax and the address book which Mr Martin and I took away have given us a lead. That lead has taken us quite a way.
‘For example, we now know that our two victims were paid twenty thousand pounds - that’s right, twenty big ones - in two cash instalments; paid, it seems, by a diplomat who, by a coincidence, bearing in mind the previous item, happens to be Lebanese, with strong Syrian connections. We have to consider the possibility that this transaction was linked in some way to the murders, and that this man, might be our killer. I’d like to ask him politely whether he is or not, but I can’t. Not just because he’s a diplomat, but because he’s disappeared.
‘We know too, that this same bloke has a past connection, a student relationship at Edinburgh University, with Rachel Jameson. We are further aware of a link between the pair of them and a one-time student radical, now turned businessman - and boring wee fart, according to Mr Martin - called Andrew Harvey.
‘Mrs Harvey, who was around then, too, has for some reason, been telling us porky pies about those days. In current circumstances, I hope you’ll agree that all that is very interesting. So we’re keeping a close eye on Mr and Mrs H. at the moment, as the only members of this wee group who are alive or otherwise available. I want you four to take over that surveillance, and to be ready to follow wherever it leads you.
‘I’ll say this once more. I want you to keep this enquiry absolutely secret.
He looked slowly from face to face. ‘I’m going to tell you this only because I trust you all implicitly. There are people in high places outside this force who know something of our enquiries, and who don’t like them one wee bit. In fact, I’ve been given a heavy hint to lay off, for reasons which I believe to be political.’