Thursday legends

'Why ask me?' she said, coldly.

'Come on, Karen. Don't be naive; if Mr Martin's missing you're one of the first people anyone would talk to.'

'Well, I don't know, okay? All that's over with.' She was angry now, but hurting as well; on top of all that she felt a twinge of fear. 'What about the DCC? Have you asked him?'

'He's out of the office. DI Mcllhenney doesn't know anything; he asked me to have the DCS call Mr Skinner when he got in.'

She thought of the red car in the driveway. 'Ahh, don't worry. He'll be across some new woman or other. Is Ruth McConnell in yet?'

'Of course. There's nothing going on between them. They had a date for tomorrow night, but the DCS called it off.'

'How do you know that?' she asked, surprised.

'I know because I'm going out with her now; she told me what happened.'

'Don't bother taking her to dinner; it would just be an appetiser. Ruth will eat you, Sam. Now, who else have you asked about Andy?'

'SB. And that's what's worrying me. When he left last night, the DCS was doing something related to them. He was going to lift a guy that the Special Branch trawl turned up in connection with the Alec Smith investigation.'

'On his own?'

'Yes. He told me to stay here and finish what I was doing, that he'd have no bother. I called DI McGuire; he was out too, and that new girl in there Alice Cowan, she wouldn't say a thing. It hasn't taken her long to go native. A couple of days ago she was in uniform, now she's a bloody SB zealot.'

Karen thought once more of the red MGF. 'Did he take his own car?'

'No. He walked to Fettes yesterday. He was in a pool Mondeo, and it's missing too.'

Her fear was more than a twinge now; it was chilling her, sending her pulse rate soaring. This is what you do, then. Don't make a fuss, but order every panda car, every patrol car and every biker we have to find that car. Tell operations that it's an order from the Head of CID.

'I'm on my way back now.'

43

They beat the plane to the General Aviation terminal by ten minutes. They stood side by side outside the building which had once served all of Edinburgh's air traffic, looking at its impressive and ever-expanding replacement across the old north-south runway.

Skinner had no idea what type of aircraft to expect, but even he was impressed when an RAF Tornado streaked in to land.

'Every time Adam Arrow shows up,' he shouted to Mario McGuire over the noise of the engine roar as the pilot eased the plane back to taxiing speed, 'it means trouble. For him to arrive like this, it means BIG trouble.'

'What is he, exactly?' the Inspector asked.

'The fact that you're a Special Branch officer and yet are asking me that says a lot in itself.' Skinner could speak quietly again, as the plane approached.

'Adam is everything. He was SAS, but now he's in charge of all MoD security and intelligence gathering, with the power to do things you would never want to tell your grandchildren about.'

'Who's his boss?'

'God, I think, but maybe he's under surveillance too.' 'What rank is he?'

'At this moment? I'm not sure, but it doesn't matter. That little man climbing out of that aeroplane could, if necessary, make a Field Marshal, Air Marshal or an Admiral of the bloody Fleet disappear off the face the earth.' As he spoke, Arrow jumped down from the navigator's seat and came bustling across the runway towards them. He was small, but built like a spinning top; massive shoulders tapering down through a stocky waist to short legs with little feet. His hair was cropped close and he was wearing civilian clothes — dark trousers, white shirt, an MCC tie and a check jacket.

'Morning, Bob,' he said, with a cheeriness which made McGuire wonder how he could possibly be the figure Skinner had described.

'Morning, Captain, Major, or whatever it is now…'

'Major, it says on my door.'

'What's with the tie?'

'My one aspiration to fookin' toffhess.'

'God, you've sold out.' Skinner looked back over his shoulder to the Inspector. 'You remember our Head of SB, Mario McGuire, don't you?'

'Sure, from way back.' Arrow reached across and shook hands; an astonishingly strong grip for a man of his size.

'What's the crisis then, Adam?'

'I'll show you when we get there; there should be a chopper about here somewhere.' He looked around the terminal until he spotted a big grey-green helicopter around a hundred yards away, a pilot standing beside it. 'Come on.'

The pilot saluted as they approached, speaking quietly to Arrow as he ushered them up the few built-in steps to the passenger space.

'He says we're flying back south over the City by-pass, and up into the Pentland Hills. There's Army ground up there…'

He shouted suddenly as the helicopter's engine roared into life. '… as you probably know.'

Something bit at the back of McGuire's mind; something ominous.

There was no conversation as the chopper took off, or as they rose and flew over the Gyle Centre and the impressive, and growing, commercial township known as Edinburgh Park, towards the dominating hills to the south. Instead the three men wore big ear-protectors, against the noise.

They had been flying for less than fifteen minutes when the helicopter began to circle. Arrow pointed downwards, and shouted something. Skinner could not make out a word, but he guessed that the pilot was looking for a safe landing area on the rising hillside. Then he saw a flare, burning on the ground on what appeared to be a flat area. Sure enough, they began to descend.

As Skinner and McGuire jumped out, each ducking instinctively under the decelerating rotor arm, they saw two red-capped soldiers a distance away, where the hill began to slope, standing beside a green Land Rover.

One wore sergeant's stripes; the other approached. 'Mr Arrow,' he began. 'Colonel Fielding, Military Police.' McGuire noted the odd deference; from Colonel to Major. 'Glad you could get here so quickly; a real bloody mess this is.'

The soldier ignored the two policemen; Skinner bridled. 'Then maybe you'd tell us about it, Colonel. I'm Deputy Chief Constable Bob Skinner and this is Detective Inspector Mario McGuire. What is this and, since we're on military property, what the hell does it have to do with us?'

Fielding looked at him. 'I'll show you presently,' he said, coldly. 'Get into the vehicle. Once I've briefed Mr Arrow, we'll take you to it.'

A large part of the DCC wanted to point out to the Colonel that in equivalent ranking terms he was addressing a general; he might have done it too, had Arrow not stepped in. 'Let's not fanny about, Colonel,' he said quietly. 'Just take us there, now.'

'Very good,' the man replied, as stiff as his uniform.

The Land Rover was even less comfortable than the helicopter, it bounced over the rough terrain as the sergeant driver made his way round the hillside, then down, then round once more until he drew carefully to a halt, on an upslope.

Skinner glanced up as he climbed out; two more military policemen stood at the top of the crest, carrying carbines, on guard.

'This way,' Fielding called out, briskly and led them up the slope. 'There,' he said, as he reached the top, with something like awe in his voice.

Arrow, Skinner and McGuire stood on the rim of a small clearing. In the centre, on its back, lay the body of a man. It, and the area around it, was soaked in blood; the head was thrown back, and the throat gaped open.

The trio gazed at the sight in silent horror, until McGuire let out a half-gasp, half-cry of relief.

'What is it, Mario?' Skinner asked.

'I thought they were going to show us Andy Martin, Boss.'

He stepped down into the clearing, leading the other two as they approached the corpse and walked around it in a wide circle.