‘Right enough.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We’d better go. I have to take Aileen down to the SRU reception, and I promised her a look at the rogues’ gallery.’
‘Mmm,’ McIlhenney murmured. ‘Aileen, is it?’
‘Knock it off,’ said Skinner. There was a hint of sharpness in his voice that took his friend by surprise. ‘Where’s the holding cell?’
‘Round the corner to your left.’
‘Thanks.’ He paused. ‘Indeed, thanks for everything, mate.’ He called to the minister, prising her away from ACC Haggerty, who was being more solicitous than he had ever seen him, and leading her outside and to the left, as McIlhenney had directed.
They turned the corner, and saw a man, a few yards away. He was in plain clothes, with a small golden eagle lapel badge, and he was smoking. Behind him, a door lay ajar. His mouth dropped open as he recognised Skinner, and he came to attention when he saw the look on his face, crushing his cigarette underfoot.
‘What the hell’s going on here, Sergeant?’ the DCC barked. ‘And where the hell are the prisoners?’
‘Major Arrow took them, sir,’ the man stammered, ‘about five minutes ago. He said you wanted them all together, ready for the van to take them to Saughton Prison.’
Skinner took in a quick breath. ‘Did he indeed? Then you go and find DI McIlhenney. He’s in the command centre. Don’t speak to anyone else, just him, but tell him I want both of you outside the cell downstairs in three minutes, tops. And tell him this. .’ He leaned over and whispered in the man’s ear.
As he headed for the stairs, he was aware that the minister was on his heels. ‘Aileen, please go back in there and ask Maggie to show you where the reception is.’
‘Not a chance. I want to know what’s happening here.’
He was about to order her back to the command centre, when he paused. ‘Maybe you should, at that,’ he exclaimed. ‘Come on.’
He led her down the stairs as fast as she could go in her high heels. Half-way down she stopped, ripped off her shoes, then ran after him carrying them.
The corridor leading to the tunnel was deserted as they turned into it, save for one man, standing impassively in front of a solid door, with a small peep-hole but no handle. He seemed to broaden out as Skinner and the minister stopped in front of him, as if he was trying to fill as much of the doorway as he could. He wore twill slacks and a roomy sports jacket; it was unbuttoned.
‘You can’t go in there, sir,’ he said, in clipped tones that spoke of an authority other than the police.
The DCC held up his warrant card. ‘I’m going in there, soldier, I promise you.’
‘No, sir.’ He flicked his shoulder so that his jacket opened a little, showing the pistol holstered beneath it.
Skinner moved faster than Aileen could have imagined, so fast that it was over before her involuntary gasp escaped her. The fingers of his left hand stabbed stiff and straight into the man’s stomach, and then, in the same movement, his left forearm came up and under his throat, slamming him back against the door. When his right hand came into view it was holding the gun, and its barrel was jammed against the soldier’s temple.
‘Adam!’ he called out. ‘Open this fucking door or I’ll use this guy’s skull to batter it down. And don’t do anything in there.’
He waited. ‘No kidding, Adam,’ he called out again, banging the soldier’s head lightly against the black-painted steel to emphasise the point.
Finally, the door opened. As it did, Skinner hurled his prisoner inside, sending him tumbling into a corner, where he lay, still winded by the earlier blow, then he and the minister followed him into the cell. He kicked the door closed behind them.
The DCC breathed a loud sigh of relief. Five figures, four men and a woman, were on the floor, with their backs to him. They were in their underwear and they were handcuffed, but they were all on their knees and they were all still alive. He looked at Arrow, and saw the silenced pistol in his hand. Then he glanced down at the gun he held, and dropped it on the floor.
‘No,’ he said quietly.
‘Bob,’ said the major, ‘I’ve got orders. I have to.’
‘You have to execute five people?’
‘Do you know what’ll happen if they make it to court?’
‘Yes, and it’s my job to get them there.’
‘And my orders are to see that they don’t. . at any cost.’
Skinner smiled. ‘Man, how long have we been friends?’
‘Ages.’
‘So are you saying you’d shoot me too, and this lady here, who happens to be the Scottish Justice Minister, just to make these disappear? If you do, then as soon as you open that door you’ll go down yourself. McIlhenney’ll be outside by now and he has his orders too. If you walk out before me, it’ll be the last step you take.’
‘Then they’ll say I was an al Qaeda plant myself,’ Arrow replied, ‘and that my job was to make sure nobody talked. Bob, please get out of here.’
Skinner shook his head. ‘I can’t do it.’
‘But why not? Fuck me, you’ve dropped people yourself; we both know that.’
‘I made a promise, Adam, that nobody would be harmed today.’
‘Who did you promise?’
‘Father Gibb.’
‘Who the hell’s Father Gibb?’
‘A billion or so people know him as Pope John the Twenty-f ifth.’
As Arrow stared up at him, Skinner felt Aileen take his hand and squeeze it. He felt her body tremble as she moved close behind him.
And then the little soldier smiled. He unscrewed the silencer from his pistol, slipped it into his pocket and reholstered the weapon.
‘I guess his orders outrank mine,’ he whispered, and blessed himself with the sign of the cross.
86
‘When you took me in there you did know that he wouldn’t have shot me, didn’t you?’ Aileen asked him.
‘No,’ Bob replied cheerfully. ‘But I was ninety per cent certain that he wouldn’t have shot me.’
‘Thanks very much.’ She snorted.
She sat beside him on his office settee. He grinned as he reached out and touched her hand. ‘I’m kidding, love, honest. Adam’s done some terrible black things in his army life, and he would have carried out his orders if we hadn’t stopped him, but he’d have seen himself as a one-man execution squad.’ He shook his head. ‘He couldn’t shoot a friend, though; not ever.’
‘But if we hadn’t stopped him, what would have happened to the bodies? It couldn’t have been covered up, surely.’
‘Now it’s you that’s kidding yourself,’ he told her grimly. ‘Black van at midnight, hole in the ground somewhere or up the chimney at Mortonhall Crematorium in the middle of the night. Welcome to the dark side, Minister.’
‘These things can’t happen. I won’t believe it.’
‘You won’t believe your own eyes? If we’d been a couple of minutes later, you’d have seen the aftermath, the blood and the grey sticky stuff.’
Once more, he felt her tremble against him. ‘You know what came to me afterwards?’ she murmured. ‘All that time, none of the people on the floor said or did anything.’
‘They were expecting it. The drummers didn’t expect to live through the afternoon, remember. They thought they’d be blown to bits the moment Father Gibb and the PM got close to them at the inspection of the bands. As for the others, well, for two of them at least, it would have been a mercy killing. Bailey and Cookson, to use the names they took today, they will be sent to America. . that’s unless Tommy Murtagh vetoes it, only the PM won’t let him. They’ll be tried here for Mawhinney’s murder, I’ll make sure of that, but then, in a few months, they’ll be extradited to the US. There’ll be a huge legal process, but ultimately, after a couple of years of thinking about it, they’ll both be strapped to tables and filled full of lethal injection. The Americans might even televise it. The former mayor of New York said he wants to push the button himself. For me, all that’s a sight more horrible than letting Adam put one behind their ears.’
‘Yet you stopped him?’