‘No.’›
‘Ever been close?’
‘No. I’ve always backed off before that. There’s someone I’ve been seeing lately, but that’s a friendship thing.’
‘Maggie Rose?’
His eyes widened in astonishment, and he gasped. They both laughed.
‘Are people talking about Maggie and me?’ he asked.
‘There are those who hope quietly that you’ll get it together,’ she told him, ‘people who like you both.’
‘Well, Maggie doesn’t share their hopes, I promise you, and I’m happy with the way things are between us. I wasn’t talking about her just now, but she falls into the same category as that girl. Sure she’s attractive, but friendship. . and work. . are more important to us both.’
‘That’s almost a pity. For there’s someone else who’s attracted to you, and she’s a lot more hazardous to your all-round health than Maggie. In a way it would be better if you and she were an item.’
‘I’m intrigued. Who is this mystery woman?’
‘Steven, you are neither dumb nor blind. You know who she is.’
He shook his head. ‘That’s crazy.’
‘I know. But craziness happens. What I was saying before. . I work hard at my marriage, and so, to be fair, does Bob: most of the time, until something comes up that he sees as so important that he doesn’t have room for anyone else in his life until it’s dealt with. In the main, though, he tries to be a good husband, and I try to be a good wife.’
‘But?’
‘But. . somehow we’re both failing. The excitement that used to be there just isn’t any more. I’m sure that’s a lament that you might hear from wives all over the world, but it’s true, and it’s the reason why I can be Mrs Bob Skinner, mother of three, and love my husband, and yet still be attracted to you.’
She reached out, took hold of his tie, pulled him down towards her and kissed him, long and tenderly, much more than a brushing of lips. ‘Go on,’ she whispered, as they broke off. ‘Pretend that didn’t happen, Steven Steele.’
22
When the intercom phone on his desk buzzed, Bob Skinner was lost in thought. He was replaying his dinner-table conversation with his wife, and reflecting on the things she had said, admiring the way that, with a few words, she had helped, even more than Jim Gainer, to cut his personal demons down to size and restore his sense of balance.
‘You should have specialised in psychology, not pathology, my darling,’ he murmured aloud. But at the same time he recognised that her attention to his problems had diverted both of them from facing their joint crisis. He had hoped that it would stay behind them in America, but it had boarded the plane like an extra piece of baggage. It was an issue, all right, and one that would have to be faced, sooner or later, not least because of some other disturbing and very private thoughts he had been having over the past twenty-four hours.
He started, in spite of himself, when the buzzer sounded, feeling a twitch in his chest, just below his left collarbone; it happened sometimes when the muscles tensed and disturbed his pacemaker. Bringing himself back to the present, he reached out and picked up the handset.
‘Superintendent McGuire, sir,’ Jack McGurk announced. ‘He’s arrived.’
The DCC smiled, glad of the distraction. ‘Send him in,’ he said. ‘Will we be needing coffee, do you think? My filter machine’s empty.’
‘Looking at him, I’d say so, sir. I’ll get you some from the kitchen.’
Skinner stood up, went to the door and opened it, to find Mario McGuire outside, almost in the act of knocking. The big detective was dressed in jeans and a creased jacket, his shirt was open at the neck, he looked several hours overdue for a shave, and there were dark shadows under his eyes. ‘Jesus,’ the DCC laughed, ‘you look at your best. Come in and sit down before you fall down. Anybody’d think you just came off a transatlantic flight.’
‘You wanted me here right away, boss; what you see is what you get. However,’ he added, ‘out of deference to the command corridor, I did give myself a squirt with the deodorant before I came out.’
‘That’s big of you. No, don’t sit at the desk: grab a comfy seat by the coffee table.’ He followed and lowered himself on to one of the two couches, which formed an L in the corner of his office.
‘So how was New York? What was the weather like, for a start?’
‘Hot when we arrived; cold when we left.’
‘And the city?’
‘I love that place,’ McGuire admitted. ‘I’d have taken some holiday there, had I not been bringing Colin Mawhinney back with me. Maybe we’ll go back next spring. I might even persuade my mother to meet us there. She’d love the art galleries. That Frick collection’s something else.’
‘It is, if you can stand the thought of one person having all that wealth. What did you think of NYPD?’
‘It’s an excellent force, no doubt about it. But it’s the sheer size of the thing. I don’t know how it’s manageable.’
‘Me neither,’ Skinner admitted, ‘especially with so much power in the hands of the mayor. I tell you this: if Jimmy and I had to report directly to the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, I’d be off. The joint board can be bad enough.’
He paused at the sound of a knock at the door. ‘Come in,’ he called out, and Maisie, the dining-room waitress, appeared with coffee and biscuits on a tray. ‘Thanks,’ he said, as she laid them on the table. ‘I’ll sign for them at lunch-time. Our visitor,’ Skinner continued, ‘what sort of guy is he?’
‘Let me put it this way,’ McGuire replied. ‘If there was an ACC post going, I’d suggest you offered it to him. Colin Mawhinney’s a potential police chief. I only spent a few days with him and I could see that. I learned a lot in New York, but to be honest, I can’t think of a bloody thing we can teach him.’
‘Neither can I. That’s why I’m going to show him how Greater Edinburgh works while he’s here, rather than stick him in a patrol car and send him round Muirhouse. Jack’s put together a programme for him that’ll give him a flavour of how our city works. He’ll meet the senior officers tomorrow, and I’ll give him a presentation on the type of work we do.’
‘You’ll do that yourself?’
‘It’s either me or Haggerty; he’d need an interpreter for some of Willie’s Glaswegian, so it’s down to me. After that Brian Mackie will talk him through the planning for next week’s papal visit; when that takes place I’m going to slot him in beside Mackie as a close observer. He might even get to meet the Pope.’
‘He’ll love that,’ McGuire exclaimed. ‘He’s a Catholic. He was going to take Paula and me to mass at St Patrick’s on Sunday, but she bottled out.’
Skinner raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not surprised. The roof might have fallen in on you.’
‘That’s what I thought too, between you and me.’
‘Aye, best be on the safe side. That apart,’ the DCC continued, ‘the rest of his visit’s going to be spent meeting people.’
‘Movers and shakers, and the like?’
‘That’s them, and that’s how he’ll spend the early part of next week. He meets the Justice Minister on Monday morning, then in the afternoon he’s got a session with the Chamber of Commerce. Neil will pick him up and take him to those meetings. In the evening, the chief’s having a reception for him here, with a guest list that’s made up of professionals. . accountants, lawyers, bankers and the like. Tuesday and Wednesday, ACC Haggerty will tour him round the various divisional commanders, showing him the scenic variety of our patch, in contrast to his. Before that, of course, there’s the weekend; that’ll be informal, but since he’s a single guy I’m not just going to leave him on his own. I’m going to invite him to dine with Sarah and me at the golf club on Saturday evening, but unless you’ve had enough of each other, I was going to ask you to take care of him for the rest of that free time. I’ve got you tickets for Tynecastle. . Hearts are playing Aberdeen. . on Saturday afternoon, and for the rugby international on Sunday. Of course I’d like you and Paula to join us for dinner at the club.’