Skinner sat silent for several seconds. Eventually he swung round in his chair. ‘So where does that leave us? Without a warm lead, for a start, and with our killer on the run and probably safe again by now.
‘So who was it in the house? It could have been Fazal Mahmoud. He’s missing from the Lebanese Embassy. He’s either running scared because someone zapped his two advocates, or he did it himself, and now he’s tying up loose ends. On the other hand, he could be Ali Tarfaz, alias Rashoun Hadid, another old university type. He’s dropped out of sight too.
‘On balance, based on Andy’s interview with the Harveys, I think it’s Mahmoud. But I’m sure of one thing. Our man did the Harveys because he thought they’d been rumbled. If he was lying there waiting to get them, he’d have done them as soon as they arrived yesterday.’
He picked up a pencil from the desk and spun it between his fingers.
‘Alongside all this activity, we’ve got this Syrian visit on our hands, next Friday, Mahmoud’s boss, for Christ’s sake. We have to consider the chance of a connection between that visit, these murders, and our two wandering Arabs, and whether there could, in it all, be a threat to the President.’ He looked around the room. ‘Any thoughts on that?’
McGuire spoke up. ‘Only this, sir. If our guy is after the Syrian, then he isn’t going to run far.
‘He’s lost his safe house, so he’ll need to find somewhere to lay his head for the next five nights. He’s not going to hang on to that Toyota for long either. Where he dumps it could give us a clue to where he’s heading.’
Skinner nodded. ‘Let’s just assume that he’ll head for Edinburgh, if he isn’t here already. We check now, and again and again if we have to, every hotel and guest house in the city. Start with the wee ones first. Andy, you allocate lists.
‘Mario, get on to communications and pick up a couple of radios. Fife will figure out that the Harveys’ car is missing. They’ll put out a description. Monitor radio traffic till you hear they’ve found it. We could keep track of him by following a trail of car thefts.’
He turned to Mackie and McIlhenney. ‘Brian, Neil, on you go home and catch up on your sleep. We can start the guest-house check in the morning. That’s all, folks. Be back in this office at 9.00 a.m. tomorrow.’
As the four left, Skinner said to Martin, ‘Andy, has McGuire passed his Sergeant’s exams?’
‘Yes, boss. He’s in the queue for a job.’
‘I think I’ll put him into Gayfield when this is over. They could use another good DS there.
‘Oh yes, and split Maggie and Mario up in future.’
He walked over to the window, where a radio sat on a small cabinet and tuned in to Radio Scotland. The news jingle came up after a few minutes.
The first report concerned the deaths of three children in a house fire in Glasgow. The second described the aftermath of violence following the defeat of Celtic by St Johnstone in a Premier League match. The third followed up on a Sunday newspaper story on the latest argument over the Scottish Parliament. Finally, the announcer paused, and his voice took on a graver tone. ‘We are just getting reports that detectives in Fife have gone to a house in Earlsferry following an anonymous telephone call. Earlsferry is a popular holiday resort, and the house is believed to be one of many owned by families from the West of Scotland.’
The bulletin had barely finished when the telephone rang. Martin picked it up, listened, grunted, nodded, said ‘Quick work,’ and replaced the receiver.
‘That was Mario. They’ve found the Toyota abandoned in Cupar, near the bus station. And there have been no other thefts reported anywhere in Fife since Friday night.’
Skinner picked up the telephone. ‘Where was he calling from?’
‘CID room, I think.’
Skinner dialled an extension number.
‘McGuire, is Sergeant Rose with you. Good. Put her on. Maggie, I want you two to go down to the bus station and watch all buses arriving from Fife. If you see anyone of Arab origins, carrying luggage, tail him to his final destination, but do not arrest him. You’d better be armed, just in case. Come up here and we’ll give you SB firearms.’
80
Maggie and McGuire spent three hours in the Metro watching buses pour in from all over the UK. Three of them were from Fife, but none of the passengers looked even remotely Arab. Eventually, they were ordered to stand down.
When they returned their pistols, Martin told them that they would be in different locations for the Syrian visit. Maggie would be at the hotel with Neil McIlhenney, McGuire with Skinner, Martin and Mackie at the MacEwan Graduating Hall.
Maggie made a show of indignation. ‘Why is that, sir? Mario and I work well together.’
‘The boss says so. End of story.’
McGuire smiled. ‘Have to make the best of it, then. Come on, Sergeant, and I’ll treat you to the best spaghetti in town.’
As they left the headquarters building, Maggie was still frowning. ‘Where is the best spaghetti in town anyway?’ she asked grumpily.
The Italian in McGuire smiled again. ‘My place. Where else?’
81
Skinner was about to leave the office, when he remembered that Alex had asked him to call. He dialled the Gullane number. The sound of his daughter’s voice always gave him a lift.
‘Hi, Babe. What was it that you forgot to ask me this morning?’
‘It’s probably nothing, but remember you said this morning at breakfast that, on some case or other, your guys had to check an Amstrad like mine. You said that all the disks looked more or less empty.’
‘Yes, so what?’
‘Well, did whoever did the checking know about the limbo files?’
‘What the hell are limbo files?’
‘I thought not! It’s a software oddity. When you erase a document, you don’t can it completely, at least not at first. All you do is take it off the menu. As it fills up with live files, the disk makes room by jettisoning the dead ones. But until that happens, they can still be recovered.’
‘So you’re saying that if someone had tried to wipe a disk, he might still have left something on it?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Clever girl. How do you check them?’
‘As I remember, you press the option key. Then you press another, F5 I think, and it lets you bring the limbo files back, ready for reading, printing, editing, anything you like.’
‘Alex, that’s great. I’ll have them re-checked. If we find anything I’ll put you up for an OBE or something.’
‘A law degree will be just fine. I must go now. Love you, Pops. Take care.’
82
Martin rang Kenny Duff at 8.45 next morning to arrange for another look at Mortimer’s word processor. ‘You’re just in time,’ he said. ‘The family asked me to give some things to the Social Work Department, or to charities, and that will be one of them.’
The team all arrived promptly. Mackie and McIlhenney looked refreshed; Maggie and McGuire looked even more tired than they had the day before.
Martin told Mackie to begin with Yellow Pages, and to split the hotel and guest-house entries into groups. ‘Then pick up a copy of the B-and-B list from the local tourist office and allocate that too. Do everything by telephone at first. We’ll never get through them all otherwise. Let’s keep the story simple. We can only check one name, and that’ll be Fazal Mahmoud, Lebanese. We say that he is a freelance journalist, touring in Scotland. We need to speak to him because there’s been bad news at home. We tell people to call us at once if the man checks in, but not to mention our call. This is because we don’t want him to panic before we have a chance to break the news. Happy with that?’