Pray for the Dying

by Quintin Jardine

  Their separation and divorce had not been acrimonious. No, it had been down to a lack of communication and each one of them had concluded, independently, that if they had sat down in the right place at the right time and had talked their problems through in the right spirit, it might not have happened at all.

  ‘You what?’ Bob rolled over and sat up in a single movement. He was about to swing a leg out of bed, but she sat on the edge, blocking him off.

  ‘Easy does it,’ she said. ‘They don’t know you’re here.’

  ‘They’ll see my car.’

  ‘No they won’t. You parked it a little way along the road, remember.’

  ‘Alex and Andy?’

  ‘They left after you crashed. That was quite an entrance; five minutes to midnight. Your first words, “Gimme a drink,” then you polished off six beers inside half an hour.’ She paused, then murmured, ‘I can always tell, Bob, the more you drink, the worse it’s been.’

  ‘I know,’ he admitted. ‘And the bugger is, the older I get, the less the bevvy helps.’

  ‘So I gather. You did some shouting through the night. It’s just as well this house is stone, with thick walls. How do you feel now?’

  ‘My love, I do not know.’ He reached out and tugged at the cord of her dressing gown. She slipped out of it, and eased herself alongside him.

  She held his wrist, with two fingers pressed below the base of his thumb. ‘Your heart rate is a little fast.’

  ‘Probably the dream. It was a bastard.’

  ‘Are you ready to tell me what happened?’

  He slipped his right arm around her shoulders. ‘I told you last night. Toni Field is dead, and somehow I let Clive Graham talk me into taking her place for three months. Three months only, mind, even though Aileen and Andy both say once I’m there they’ll never get me out.’

  ‘Hey,’ Sarah murmured. ‘Maybe the witch knows you better than I thought.’

  ‘You think so too?’ He shook his head, and a slight grin turned up the corners of his mouth. ‘And here was me thinking you and I were making a new start.’

  ‘Then let me put it another way. Sometimes you don’t know where your duty lies until it’s brought home to you. You’ve been frustrated since you became chief in Edinburgh; I can see that. You were never really keen on the job, without really knowing why. When you were talked into taking it, you found out. It was more or less what you’d been doing before, but it made you more remote from your people and more authoritarian.

  ‘But Strathclyde’s different. You’ve always known why you didn’t want that job; you grew up there in a different time and you feel that force is too big, and as such too impersonal. Now that you’ve been forced into the hot seat by circumstances in which, in all conscience, you couldn’t decline, you might find the challenge you’ve been needing is to change that. You get what I’m saying?’

  ‘Yes.’ He paused. ‘But I’m a crime-fighter.’

  ‘I know,’ she agreed, ‘but even Strathclyde CID’s remote, isn’t it? If you can bring that closer to the people in every one of the hundreds of communities within the force’s area, then won’t they feel safer as a result, and won’t that be an achievement?’

  ‘Okay,’ he nodded, ‘I can see your argument. Maybe you’re right . . . and maybe if this new unified force does happen it’ll be even more important to have someone in charge who thinks like I do. But probably you’re wrong. The chances are I’ll be back in Edinburgh by November. The chances are also that the unification will happen and I’ll walk away from it.’ He hesitated, and his forehead twisted into a frown. ‘That’s the way I feel right now.’

  ‘So tell me why,’ she whispered. ‘Although I think I can guess, having seen this before.’

  ‘I killed someone,’ he whispered, ‘one of the South Africans. His name was Gerry Botha. He probably didn’t murder Toni Field, not personally, but he was part of the team that did: not just her, but three other people in the last forty-eight hours, and God knows how many more in other places, before that. I’ve shot people before in the line of duty . . .’ He sighed. ‘Christ, darlin’, most cops never handle a firearm, but I’m always in the firing line. At the time it’s a decision you have to make in a split second. I’ve never been wrong, or doubted myself afterwards, but there comes a time when you have to think that however evil the life you’ve just snuffed out, someone brought it into being.

  ‘Gerry Botha and his sidekick Francois Smit, they probably have mothers and fathers still alive, and maybe wives and maybe kids who see completely different men at home and who’re not going to have them to take them to rugby and cricket or the movies or to the beach any more, like I did yesterday with ours before all this shit happened, and when I start to play with all that in my head I start to think, “Oh God, perhaps that man wasn’t all that different from me, just another guy doing the best he can for those he loves.” And that’s when it gets very difficult.’ He leaned back against the headboard, and she could see that his eyes were moist.

  She kissed his chest. ‘Yeah, I know, love. That’s why you, of all people, understand why I prefer to be a pathologist, rather than to work with people with a pulse. But,’ she said, ‘if I was a psychologist, I’d be telling you to take that thought and apply it to Botha’s victims and to imagine how their nearest and dearest are feeling today, then to ask yourself how they’d feel about you if you’d funked your duty? Toni Field, for example; did she have a family?’

  ‘No, she’s never been married,’ he told her. ‘According to the Human Resources director, her next of kin was her mother, name of Sofia Deschamps. He was able to get the mother’s details from her file; he accessed it from home. I’m not too happy about that, but it’s an issue for later.

  ‘Mother lives in Muswell Hill; a couple of community support officers broke the news to her last night. Apparently there was no mention of a father on her file. The mother was a single parent, Mauritian. Antonia must have Anglicised the name at some point, or maybe the mother did, for she graduated as Field.’

  ‘I guess now they can confirm that she’s the victim.’

  ‘Yeah. The press office is going to issue a statement at twelve thirty, after the Police Authority’s emergency meeting. That will ratify my . . . temporary . . . appointment, and I’ll be paraded at another media briefing at one.’

  ‘What about your own Police Authority?’

  ‘Good question. The chairperson’s a Nationalist, one of the First Minister’s cronies. He was going to talk to her last night, but I’ll have to give her a call as well, to ask for her blessing, and to get her to nod through Maggie as my stand-in and Mario’s move up to ACC Crime.’ He took a breath.

  ‘And I’ll have to talk to Maggie myself; I can go and see her, since she doesn’t live far away. Then I’ll need to call in on Mario . . . not to tell him about his promotion, he knows about that . . . but to see how Paula is the day after. And I suppose I’ll have to go to Fettes and change into my fucking uniform . . .’

  Sarah rolled out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown from the floor. ‘Then what the hell are you still doing lying there? Get yourself showered . . . but don’t you dare put my Venus leg shaver anywhere near your chin . . . then dress and come downstairs to surprise our children. I’ll make you breakfast and then you can get on the road.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’ He grinned.

  ‘You’ll see,’ she added, ‘it’ll be good for you, this new challenge.’

  ‘If I’m up to it.’

  ‘That’s bullshit. You do not do self-doubt, my love.’

  Bob frowned. ‘No, you’re right, not when it comes to work. In everything else though,’ he sighed, ‘I’m a complete fuck-up. Three marriages; soon to be two divorces. Are you sure you want to get close to me again?’

  She put her hands on his shoulders, and drew him to her. ‘Even in our darkest moments,’ she whispered, ‘even across an ocean, I was never not close to you. You see us? We’re each other’s weakness and strength all roll
ed into one. This time, strength comes out on top.’

  He nodded, stood, took hold of her robe, and kissed her. ‘Sounds good to me.’

  He headed towards the bathroom, then stopped. ‘Will you keep the kids here tonight?’

  ‘Yes. Will you come back here?’

  ‘Mmm. What do you think? Do you want me to, I mean? What will the kids be thinking? This has all happened pretty quick; Aileen being gone, you and me . . .’

  ‘What do I think?’ she replied. ‘To be brutally honest, I think that Mark won’t bat an eyelid, that James Andrew will be pleased . . . he didn’t like her and, believe me, I never said a word against her to him . . . and that Seonaid will barely notice she’s gone.’

  He nodded. ‘Okay then. I’ll see you later.’

  He was stepping into the en-suite when she called after him. ‘Hey, Bob?’

  He looked over his shoulder. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘If you did walk away from the job,’ she asked, ‘do you have the faintest idea what you’d do?’

  ‘Sure. I could collect non-executive directorships, get paid for sitting on my arse and play a lot of golf, but that wouldn’t be my scene. No, if I do that I’ll become a consulting detective; I’ll become bloody Sherlock.’

  Seven

  He looks tired and tense, Paula Viareggio thought. But he also looks more alive than I’ve seen him in a couple of years.

  ‘I am perfectly fine, Bob,’ she assured him. ‘Honestly. The police doctor checked me out last night and he said exactly that. He checked both of us out in fact. The baby’s good too. For a while afterwards I did wonder if he’d stick his head out to find out what all the fuss was about, but it seems he’s keeping to his timetable.’

  ‘You’re some woman, Paula,’ Skinner chuckled. They were sitting around a table on the deck of the prospective parents’ duplex. The sun was high enough to catch the highlights in his steel-grey hair.

  ‘No, I’m just like all the rest. I had my few moments of sheer terror, and I know I’m never going to lose the memory, of the noise more than anything else, the sound of the bullets hitting the poor woman.’

  ‘Hey, enough,’ her husband said quietly.

  ‘No, Mario, it’s all right; I yelled my head off at the time, because I was afraid . . . I was scared for two, as well. But once something’s happened, it’s happened. You can’t go back, you can’t change it, but the danger’s over and talking about what happened won’t bring it back. So no worries, big fella; I won’t be waking up screaming in the night.’

  ‘I’m glad you feel that way,’ the chief constable said, ‘because there is a formal murder investigation going on in Glasgow and it would be useful if you could give my DI a statement, for the record.’

  ‘I won’t have to go through there, will I? I couldn’t be arsed with that.’

  ‘No, of course not. You don’t need to leave home. Knock it out on your computer, print it, sign it with Mario as witness, then scan it and send it to DI Charlotte Mann.’ He dug a card from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Her email address is on that.’

  ‘Will do. Is Aileen having to do the same?’ She paused. ‘That is the one thing that gets to me, Bob: the idea that she was the real target.’

  ‘Then don’t dwell on it,’ he told her. ‘Because I don’t believe she was, and neither does Lottie Mann.’ He looked at his colleague. ‘How about you, Mario?’

  The swarthy detective shook his head. ‘Probably not.’

  ‘But what does Aileen think?’ Paula asked.

  ‘I’ve never been good at working that out,’ Skinner replied, ‘but whatever she believes, she won’t mind having people think she was. There’s more votes in it.’

  She stared at him, shocked. ‘Bob, that’s not worthy of you. The poor woman was terrified last night.’

  ‘Maybe, but she was spitting tin tacks when I spoke to her last at the thought of Clive Graham taking credit from it.’

  ‘Get away with you, you’re doing her an injustice.’

  ‘I wish I was, but I’m not.’ His expression changed, became quizzical. ‘Did she tell you anything last night about the two of us?’

  Paula hesitated. ‘No, she didn’t say anything specific; but looking back, there was something about her, something different.’

  ‘We’re bust,’ he said. ‘Sorry to be blunt, but it’s over. The press will catch on eventually. When they do, we’ll call it “irreconcilable differences”. That’ll be true, as well.’

  ‘The police unification issue? Mario told me you were at loggerheads about it.’

  He nodded. ‘That’s part of it, but not all. She was planning to turn me into a backroom politician. Aileen has ambitions beyond Scotland that I knew nothing about. She had this daft idea that I would help her fulfil them.’ He snorted. ‘As if.’

  He stood, straightened his back, and smoothed his uniform jacket. ‘Now I must go. Wouldn’t do if I was late for my unveiling.’ He turned to Mario once again. ‘Okay, ACC McGuire. I have no idea when I’ll see you again, but I’m glad the promotion’s come through. It probably won’t make any operational difference to you, as you’ll still be head of CID under the new structure, but you’ll be doing the job from the command corridor, where you’ve belonged for a while now.’

  A smile lit up McGuire’s face. ‘Thanks, boss.’

  ‘You’re out of date. Maggie’s the boss, for the next three months. She’ll need support though; be sure to give her all you can. And have your people do something for me too.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Freddy Welsh. The armourer, the man that young Houseman and I arrested yesterday. The man who supplied the weapons for the concert hall hit and God knows how many others. Clyde and I didn’t have time to ask him all the questions we needed to, but they’re still relevant. Technically, it’s part of Lottie Mann’s investigation, but he’s in your hands, so your people should handle the interrogation.

  ‘I want to know who placed the order for the weapons. Was it Cohen, the man who put the operation together, or was it someone else? Somebody sent that team after Toni Field . . . yes, Paula, fact is we’re certain she was the target . . . and we must find out who it was and why they did it.’

  ‘I’ll handle it myself,’ the new ACC said. ‘But it’s a pound to a pinch of pig shit, Bob; his lawyer will have advised him by now to keep his mouth shut.’

  ‘Then keep his lawyer out of it. Welsh is going away for years for illegal possession of firearms, and conspiracy to supply. We don’t need to charge him over his involvement in Field’s assassination, so you can interview him as a potential witness, not a suspect.’

  ‘Okay, but I’ll bet you he still won’t talk. His customers aren’t the sort you inform on.’

  Skinner smiled. ‘If that’s how it is, you give him a message from me. If he holds out on us, I won’t hesitate to hand him over to MI5, and Clyde Houseman. My young friend made quite an impression on Freddy at their first meeting. I don’t think Mr Welsh will be too keen on another session. Now, I really am off.’

  McGuire saw him to the door. ‘Well,’ he said as he rejoined his wife in the sunshine. ‘Is this our morning for surprises? The big man enticed to Strathclyde, not to mention him and Aileen being down the road.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Paula laughed. ‘And maybe get yourself ready for another. When she saw that Joey Morocco last night, before the concert, and it was all going off . . . mmm, that was interesting.’

  Mario looked at her, intrigued, reading her meaning. ‘She looked like she wanted to eat him, did she?’

  ‘Oh, I think she has, in the past. In fact I know so, ’cos she told me. And I’m pretty certain she fancies another helping.’

  Eight

  ‘God, but you’re hot stuff when you’re angry, Aileen de Marco,’ Joey Morocco gasped.

  She smiled, looking down on him as she straddled him. ‘Then look forward to mediocrity, my boy, because I won’t stay mad for ever . . . unless you can come up with ways of winding me up.’ />
  ‘What if I told you I’m a Tory?’

  ‘Hah! That might have worked once, but now I’d just feel sorry for you, ’cos you’re an endangered species in Scotland.’ She raised an eyebrow, reached behind and underneath her and took his scrotum in her right hand, massaging him, gently. ‘You’re not, are you?’ she asked.

  ‘Absolutely not! Absolutely not!’

  ‘Just as well,’ she laughed, releasing him.

  ‘You don’t need to stop that, though.’

  ‘Yes, I do. I’m knackered.’ She pushed herself to her feet, bounced on the mattress as if it was a trampoline, and jumped sideways off the bed. ‘Besides, have you seen what time it is?’

  ‘No; a gentleman removes his Tory Rolex, remember.’

  ‘And this lady keeps on her nice socialist Citizen. For your information it’s gone half past twelve.’

  ‘Missed breakfast, then,’ he observed, with a cheerful grin. ‘Have we still got fairies at the bottom of the garden?’

  ‘My unwanted guardians, you mean?’ She crossed to the window and looked outside, taking hold of a curtain and drawing it across her body. ‘Yup. They’re parked across your driveway too; that’s a clear sign to anyone that there’s something going on here. I thought the protection people were supposed to be subtle. Here,’ she added, ‘do you ever have paparazzi hanging around?’

  ‘Yes,’ he exclaimed, sitting upright, suddenly alarmed, ‘so get your face away from the window.’

  She stayed where she was, looking back over her shoulder, and letting go of the curtain. ‘Why? Would I be bad for your image? Would your fans not approve of you with an older woman?’

  ‘I’m not worried about my image, Aileen,’ he protested. ‘I’m concerned about yours. You’re married to a bloody chief constable, remember, and you’re a top politician. You can’t afford scandal.’

  She left the window and winked at him. ‘Not to “a chief constable”, Joey; to “The Chief Constable”. Bob’s taking over the Strathclyde job; it’s an emergency appointment. There was nobody else there anyway.’