‘I’d give it some thought right now, if I were you. There are a few ghosts waiting for you on the other side. I asked about you, Peter, and now I know what your obsession is.’
He paused, studying Heuer’s face through the sight, seeing it twitch, and watching his eyes shift around as he peered through the window into the sunlight.
‘You’re a contractor,’ he pronounced at last. ‘Or you were, until you cocked it up. You did wet jobs in the intelligence community. You were an assassin, Peter, back then, when our paths first crossed.
‘You didn’t go into the Polish Consulate that night to steal the silver, did you? You went in to kill the Consul and his wife. Those were your orders. Our people were going to plant documents to make it look as if the Pole had been working for East Germany, and that the Stasi had killed him.
‘The whole idea was to create a big stooshie within the Warsaw Pact, and give Solidarity a big shove forward.’
The red dot wavered on Heuer’s white shirt, as a sudden tremor went through him. ‘Careful,’ called Skinner, and it steadied immediately. ‘I told you, not as much as a twitch, boy.’
He paused. ‘But you made an arse of it, Peter. You didn’t do your homework. You missed the second alarm. Or by your way of it, you weren’t told about it.
‘For you decided that you’d been set up. You expected your paymasters to have you released on some technicality. But they felt that would be too risky, and that you’d have to do time for your mistake. Naturally, being a psychopathic type, you took it personally.
‘But what I want to know is why you took it out on me, you cunt. I was only a poor innocent copper doing my job when I gave evidence at your trial.’
In the sight, he saw Heuer look out of the window, his eyes searching the bracken. ‘No you were not,’ he said. ‘You were part of the plot. It was your evidence more than any other which had me convicted, and you lied in the witness box, Skinner. There never was a second alarm. There was a last-minute change of plan; someone at the top got cold feet.
‘My own people tipped you off. By then, it was the only way they could stop me. So they did, and then they left me to rot.’
Skinner laughed into the phone. ‘How long did it take you to work that story out, Peter? Careful now,’ he warned as Heuer reacted to his taunt.
‘There was no plot to get you. Your mission was meant to succeed, but you fucked it up. Of course there was a second alarm. It was even visible too. A small line-of-sight transmitter on the roof, aimed directly into our communication tower at headquarters. It looked like a radio aerial, and that’s what you thought it was.
‘You can’t accept the idea that you’re fallible, can you, Heuer? You never could. That’s why you were kicked out of the Army. They let you off then, when you departed from an operational plan in Argentina in 1982 and had two of your men killed. They let you resign, because the op was secret and they couldn’t have a court martial. And because you had a special talent for killing people, they passed you on to the intelligence community.
‘How many people did you kill for our side, and for the Americans? A couple of dozen, was it?’
As Skinner paused, two shots rang out around the Gully. He smiled. ‘Free and clear,’ he said. ‘Mission accomplished. You’ve cocked it up again, Peter. You’ll probably blame the RAF this time.
‘Face it, at last, man,’ he went on. ‘You got yourself caught in the Polish Consul’s house, before you had killed him, fortunately. You were nicked by three carloads of our people. A dozen of them. There was no way, with that number of witnesses, that anyone could get you out of it.
‘For fuck’s sake, you were even paid when you were inside, even though you’d botched the job. To keep you loyal, they thought.’
His voice hardened. ‘You’ve been planning this for years, haven’t you? You did your time, five years with parole, and even took on a couple of jobs when you came out four years ago. Yet all the time you were planning to make your bosses pay big-time for the years you did inside.’
Unexpectedly, Skinner chuckled, startling Heuer, making the red dot jump. ‘They are not pleased with you this time, not at all. Do you know, they even asked me to kill you. They don’t want any of this coming out in a trial, you see, so they asked me to do you in, very quietly, resisting arrest sort of thing.
‘What d’you think of that?’ he said, a shocked tone in his voice. ‘Asking me, a policeman, to kill you. That’s how much they want you dead.’ He paused. ‘No, Peter, no,’ he said sharply. ‘Don’t move yet. Not till Andy and the kids are well clear. And keep the phone pressed to your ear.’
Through his own earpiece, he could hear Heuer’s breathing, no longer even, but heavy and ragged, making the red dot seem to ripple on his shirt as he watched.
‘Imagine, thinking that I’d do that,’ he went on. ‘Even though you terrified two kids out of their wits, and did things that may well scar them emotionally for life. I mean, did you hear Mark’s voice when he learned from the radio that his mum was dead? And what about Tanya, after you blew her mum’s brains out right in front of her?
‘As for Leona, would you have raped and killed her, if she hadn’t been someone you knew I was fond of? You were watching her house that Friday night, Peter, weren’t you?
‘Come on, I want an answer. You were watching, and you saw the bedroom light go on, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes!’ cried Heuer.
The detective drew in a deep breath. ‘Boy,’ he said. ‘You must be thinking that all your Christmas days have come at once, right now. You must be thanking your luckiest star that it’s a straight, idealistic, career copper like me holding this gun, and not someone like my mate Adam Arrow, who’d kill you in an instant.
‘Nod once if I’m right.’
Slowly, the man in the gun-sight nodded.
Behind the carbine, Bob Skinner’s face took on a cold, terrible expression as the memory of Leona McGrath’s abused, battered, throttled corpse appeared in his mind’s eye. ‘Wrong, Peter,’ he whispered. ‘Sometimes life hands you a luxury you can afford.’ The red dot swept upwards to the centre of Heuer’s forehead.
‘Say hello to Ross for me.’ He squeezed the trigger.
84
Martin and the two children were waiting at the foot of the hill south of the Gully as Skinner reappeared over its crest, after pressing Heuer’s pistol into his hand, and squeezing off one shot into the wall beside the window just as Arrow had told him to do.
Mark came running towards him. ‘Uncle Bob! Uncle Bob!’ he cried out. ‘I told Tanya that it’d be all right. I told her that you’d come to get us.’
Skinner swept him up in his arms, and carried him off back down the hill towards Andy and the white-faced, shocked little girl. ‘And you were right, weren’t you? Just like you always are.’
‘Tanya’s awful frightened, Uncle Bob.’
‘She’s had every right to be. So have you, although I don’t suppose you were.’
‘Well . . .’ Mark began. ‘What about the man, Mr Gilbert?’ he asked. ‘He won’t come back, will he?’
‘No, son. Mr Gilbert’s dead. I told him not to do anything silly, but he did and I had to shoot him.’
‘You mean he went back into the kitchen for his gun?’ Skinner winced inwardly as he was reminded of the child’s astonishing memory for detail.
‘Yes, that’s just the way it was.’
‘What’ll happen now?’
‘Some Army people will come up to take him away.’ In fact, he had begun the clean-up process with a phone call to Adam Arrow, from the cottage.
And then Mark asked the inevitable question, the one which his remarkable young mind had allowed him to block out until then.
‘Uncle Bob . . .’ he began. ‘What it said on the radio about my mummy. That wasn’t true, was it?’
Skinner hugged the boy to him. ‘Let’s sit down over here, wee man,’ he said, ‘and let’s have a chat.’
85
‘Mit
ch, does your firm handle property sales?’
‘No,’ said Laidlaw. ‘But I can recommend good people. Why?’
‘I’m selling the Gullane cottage,’ said Skinner.
‘You hardly need do that, Bob,’ the portly lawyer beamed, ‘since the Secretary of State has said that his office would fund your defence costs. He was pretty magnanimous in his statement exonerating you, after the line he took at the start.’
‘He was told to be,’ said Skinner.
The lawyer shot him a curious look. ‘Fine by me,’ he said. ‘It means I can now add your daughter’s time to the fee note with a clear conscience.’
The policeman laughed.
‘I was surprised by what he said in the rest of the statement,’ Laidlaw went on, ‘that the allegations had proved to be spurious and that there would be no further enquiries.’
‘He was told to say that too,’ said Skinner, in a way which invited no further discussion of the matter.
‘Still, Mitch,’ he went on, quickly, ‘despite the outcome, it was pretty hairy while it lasted. All your input and support was much appreciated, and I thank you for it.’
‘Don’t mention it. It’s good to see you looking so relaxed after it all, and after yesterday’s events. You’ve had no reaction to . . .’ The rest of the question was unnecessary.
Skinner glanced at him. ‘To having to shoot Heuer?’ He shook his head. ‘No. It’s a part of the job. Not an everyday part, thank goodness, but part none the less. Heuer made his choice when he killed Leona. Up the crematorium chimney’s the best place for him.’
‘Was he killed outright?’ asked the solicitor, slightly awed by a side of his friend that he had never seen.
‘Oh yes. When your brains are all over the wall behind you, everything else tends to stop working.’
Laidlaw shuddered. ‘How were the children, afterwards?’ he asked.
The policeman grimaced. ‘Wee Tanya’s completely withdrawn. It’ll take her a long time to recover I think, if she ever does. I don’t envy Bruce Anderson his job as a father. I think he may even resign his office to look after her.
‘As for Mark, he’s a remarkable and resilient wee boy. But he’s still only that: a wee boy, orphaned by violence.’
‘What’ll happen to him?’
‘He’s with his grandparents just now, but they’re retired. He’ll need a different long-term solution. Still, I’m sure that one will be found.’
Laidlaw nodded. ‘Let’s hope so. Anyway, back to your house: you’re serious?’
‘Yes. I just fancy a change, somewhere I can build a new set of memories. I plan to sell the Edinburgh house too, and buy another place in Gullane.’
‘Ah, so we won’t be losing you from the Thursday night football club.’
‘Shit no. That’s my religion.’
‘That’s good. But after yesterday, I won’t be kicking you again, that’s for sure.’
Skinner laughed as he rose to his feet. ‘Is my daughter available, by the way?’ he asked.
Laidlaw shook his head. ‘No, she called in and asked for the day off. She said that you and she and Andy had had a stressful time last night, unwinding. I told her I quite understood, and that I’d see her on Monday.
‘She did ask me to give you a message, though. She said that a delivery service had been trying to reach you, about a package that’s en route to you. She’s told them you’ll receive it at Fairyhouse Avenue at midday.’
Skinner frowned as he headed for the door of the lawyer’s office. ‘Delivery service?’ he mused, aloud. ‘Wonder what the hell that’s about? The way my luck’s been going lately, this one really will be a bomb.’
86
The package was explosive in its own way, but it was no bomb. It had arrived before he reached the bungalow.
He smelled fresh coffee in the kitchen as he stepped through the back door. He caught the fragrance of a familiar perfume as he stepped into the hall. He heard the rustle of movement as he turned into the living room.
‘Sarah.’
He said her name quietly and calmly, as nervousness, relief and uncertainty struggled for mastery within him.
‘Bob.’ She replied coolly and cautiously, with no hostility, but with no hint of emotion.
‘What . . .?’ he began. ‘What do you want? Why have you come back?’
‘I’ve come back for a fight,’ she said, her jaw set defiantly, holding her head proud and high, light glinting on her auburn hair.
Within him, uncertainty triumphed over relief. ‘Oh my love,’ he cried out, sadly. ‘I don’t want to fight with you. I never did, and I never should have, only I was too big a fool to know.’
She stepped towards him, skirt swinging, stepped right up against him, tall in her high heels, with her hands on her hips. ‘I didn’t say I was going to fight with you, honey.’ She paused, still without a smile.
‘After you called me, to tell me about you and the other woman, and to warn me about the Spotlight stuff, and I gave you that three-month ultimatum; after all that I sat down and I said to myself, “Hold on here a minute, Doctor. Have you ever stopped loving this man, since the day you met him? Would your life ever be the same if you lost him? Are you prepared to let some other lady enjoy your happy ever after?”
‘The answers were “No”, “No”, and “Hell, no!”. Right there and then I decided that you were not getting rid of me that easily, with just one phone call three months down the road.
‘I’m here to fight for you, Bob, my love. That’s if I have to.’ At last, a tentative smile came to her lips, and into her wonderful eyes.
He shook his head as if to clear it, picked her up and pressed her to him. ‘Oh but you don’t,’ he said, hugging her tight as relief, with an overwhelming counter-surge, swept everything else aside. ‘My darling, you don’t.
‘I am so, so, sorry for the fool I’ve been. Please, please forgive me. I accused you of being disloyal to me, and I drove you away in the process. But it’s me who failed the loyalty test, in a big way.’ He set her back on her feet.
‘Yeah,’ she said, her smile gone once more, ‘You sure did. But I have to tell you, husband, we’re even on that score.’
He felt a punch, a hard, winding punch, in the pit of his stomach, but he rode out its force. ‘This Terry guy, yes?’
She nodded.
‘Well,’ he sighed, ‘you were entitled. As far as I’m concerned it never happened.’
‘Oh but it did, lover,’ she insisted. ‘And you must listen to me. Like I said, I have to tell you why.
‘It had nothing to do with entitlement, or revenge. I was evening the score between us, yes, but with a good motive behind it, I hope.
‘I decided I should go to bed with Terry for one reason alone - and I’m telling you for that same reason - so that I’ll never in the future, if ever I was stupid enough, be able to brandish my fidelity over your head like a club.’ She laid her forehead against his chest, and spoke quietly. ‘This is what happened.
‘I invited him on a dinner date, and I even insisted on paying. Afterwards, I took him to a hotel room I’d booked, and I said, “Okay, Terry, now give me your best, and I’ll give you mine.” As it turned out, his was a lot better than mine - you’ll be glad to know I’m lousy at casual sex - but it was nowhere, my love, nowhere near as good as yours.
‘When we’d done it - once was enough - I got out of bed, took a shower, said “Thanks and Good Night”, and went home, feeling guilty about using Terry, but leaving my banner of virtue behind me as I had set out to do. I didn’t feel like a whore, though. I was relieved, because I’d been able to do what I believed was necessary, and most of all because I was ready to go home.
‘I want to make a fresh start,’ she whispered. ‘Forgiveness on both sides.’ She looked up to find his eyes looking solemnly into hers.
‘If Terry had looked in my bag when I was in the shower,’ she said, ‘he’d have found the plane tickets there: Edinburgh via Amsterdam, one way.�
��
‘Tickets?’ he asked, hopefully.
‘Of course we both came back,’ she said. ‘Jazz is with Alex.’ She grinned. ‘Hey, your gal’s getting a touch broody, Pops. Maybe having her baby brother back will calm her down a bit.’
She hesitated. ‘Alex told me all about Pam; she told me the whole story. That it was her who tipped off Spotlight? It was her who set you up with the bribe thing? And all because you put her brother away for something or other. How driven can a person be?’
Bob shook his head. ‘Alex doesn’t know the whole story, love. Neither does Andy. Only you can ever know it. Sit down.’ He took her hand and led her to the couch, sitting her down and facing her along the leather cushions.
‘I put Pam’s brother away all right, Sarah love. Six feet deep.
‘Remember the time we had the President of Syria here, and he was killed? Remember the man who shot him, and who was going to kill me, and you too, because I found out the truth?’
Her face went white. She leaned, suddenly and heavily, against the back of the sofa. ‘The man you shot dead? That was Pam’s brother?’
‘Yes, that’s who he was. His real name was Ross Masters. Just like Heuer, he was a soldier who’d become a professional assassin, and he worked within the intelligence community. He and Pamela were very close . . .’ He hesitated, and she caught his meaning.
‘Incestuous, you mean?’
‘That’s right,’ Bob grunted, grimly. ‘Incest, the game the whole family can play! Ross called her Polly, by the way. She came to hate it if that name was used by anyone else, even by her poor mug of a husband. The marriage was Ross’s idea, she told me. Purely for show.
‘The two of them were so close in fact, that she knew what Ross did, and the risks it involved. They had an arrangement. He always contacted her, in person or by telephone, within a three-month period. He told her that if ever he failed to do that, it would certainly be because he was dead. If that happened, she was to go to a private safe depository in London and present a key which he had given her.
‘Just over three months after Ross and I had our fatal encounter, she made that trip. She was given a box which her brother had kept. Inside, she found a hundred thousand pounds, in Bank of England notes, and a letter.’
07 - Skinner's Ghosts Page 32