Skinner's ghosts bs-7

by Quintin Jardine

  'I think it would be best for you to go away and arrange legal representation. Once you've done that, the visiting officers and I will meet with you and your solicitor, and we will show you the material which we hold.' He stopped abruptly, looking down at the table for a second or two.

  'The Secretary of State has decided,' he continued, 'and I'm afraid that I have to agree with him, that while the investigation is in progress you should not take part in any police activity. That's why you have to be formal y suspended from duty.

  'You shouldn't enter Fettes or any other police office, for any purpose not related to your defence against the accusation. Furthermore, I have to counsel you most strongly against conducting any personal investigation.

  'The visiting officers will have the brief of enquiring and reporting to me and to me alone. If you approach anyone to whom they wish to speak, you could make yourself vulnerable to accusations of intimidation. And believe me, Bob, that's the last thing you need.'

  'Archie,' said Skinner, evenly. 'I'l do what you say, but if that wee shit Salmon approaches me, then you can be damn sure I'l intimidate him.'

  'Salmon wil be advised not to approach you,' said Lord Archibald, reassuringly. 'We can't order him of course: sub judice rules don't apply at this stage, as you know. But we can warn him of the dangers of interfering with a police inquiry.'

  'That's al very well,' said Skinner, 'but why should my hands be tied behind my back? If you can't prevent Salmon from approaching me, how the hell can you justify forbidding me from making my own enquiries into accusations against me? If that's what you're saying, then I'd prefer you to charge me with corruption right now. If the al egations are the subject of criminal proceedings, then no-one can publish till the case comes to court, and my team will have the right of access to the prosecution witnesses.'

  'Christ, Bob,' spluttered the former Archie Nelson, 'the last thing I want is to charge you with anything.'

  He paused as he considered what Skinner had said. 'I take your point, though. Look, let's have an understanding. You stay away from witnesses personally, but your lawyers can approach them. Deal?'

  The policeman surprised the Lord Advocate by smiling: an open smile, but with something devious lurking behind it. 'You've got a deal, M'Lud,' he said. 'The first thing I'm going to do, though, is look for an injunction preventing the Spotlight from publishing any of his crap.'

  The smile vanished as he turned towards the Secretary of State.

  'As for you, DrAnderson, be aware that I'm going to seek advice on the possibility of raising an injunction against you, and having my suspension lifted.'

  'You can but try,' said the Secretary of State.

  'Before you do, though, Bob,' Lord Archibald interrupted, 'you should be aware that the Court would require you to show good cause why it should injunct. You would be forced to present strong defences against the evidence. In effect, you would be putting yourself on trial without time to prepare, and based on what I've seen this morning, I have to tell you that I believe you would lose.

  'Please, my friend, go and consult your lawyers, quickly, then bring 146 them to Crown Office, and I'll meet you with the Manchester people.

  Let's make it two thirty. I'l arrange for you to use the back door, to avoid the media. They'l be keeping an eye on the entrance as soon as this goes public.'

  Skinner smiled again. 'I appreciate the courtesy, Archie, but bol ocks to it. I've never sneaked in the tradesman's entrance in my life, and I'm damned if I will now. The media have tons of shots of me on file. A few more won't make any difference.'

  He nodded across the table. 'Thank you, Secretary of State. The next time we meet, I'l accept your apology.'

  The big policeman stood up, with the briefest of nods to his Chief Constable, and walked out of the room. Outside, in the corridor, he stood at the lift doors for a few seconds, then headed for the stairs.

  He stood on the first landing and waited. A few seconds later, Sir James Proud, puffing and blowing, crashed through the double doors.

  'Bob, I…'

  Skinner held up a hand. 'Jimmy, before you say anything: whatever it is that Anderson has on me, I swear to you that I know nothing about any Guernsey money, and that I have never in my life accepted as much as a bent penny.'

  'You don't have to tell me that, son. Come on, let's walk.' Side by side they descended the wide stairway. 'Archie will show you the papers later,' said Proud, 'but they've got documentary evidence of an account in your name in this JZG Bank, opened a few months back, in the middle of the Jackie Charles investigation.'

  'How much?'

  'One hundred thousand.'

  'Jesus. But, Jimmy, anyone could open an account in the name of Robert Skinner. I'm not unique. Why should they think it's me?'

  Proud shook his head. 'It's not in anyone's name. It's a numbered account, but Anderson said that there was potential evidence which shows that you're the knowing beneficiary. It's a high-interest, long-access job.'

  'What bloody evidence can he have? It's all nonsense.'

  'I don't know what he has – Anderson wouldn't tell me – but I think it's pretty serious. I tried to get him to stop short of immediate suspension, but he told me that in his view the supportive evidence made it essential.'

  Skinner looked round at his friend as they emerged once more into the cold, barren entrance hal. 'I tell you one thing, Jimmy. For our Secretary of State's sake, he'd better pray he's on solid ground.

  Because if he's playing politics with my reputation again, he'll find it giving way beneath his feet.'

  45

  'Andy, it's me. Listen careful y. I want you to find Pam. There's some pretty shocking news you're going to have to break to her.'

  'Where are you, Bob? I know you can't be in the building, to have come through on this line.'

  'I'm in Mitch Laidlaw's office, with Mitch, and with Alex. Now shut up and listen.'

  Speedily, Skinner told Martin of his summons to meet the Secretary of State, and of his encounter in Committee Room One.

  'Anderson set it up as a real Star Chamber,' he said as he finished,

  'roping in Archie Nelson, with Jimmy and the Topham woman as his official observers.

  'The bastard didn't have to play it like that. He could have called me in and shown me his evidence informal y; given me the chance to knock it on the head before setting up this very public inquiry.

  This is the second Secretary of State who's crossed me up, Andy. I tell you, if I can, I'll see to it that he goes the same way as the other one.'

  'Sure, Bob, but get yourself off the hook before you start to get even. Why's he cal ed in officers from England?'

  'He's got to have at least a DCC in charge. I know all the chiefs and deputies in Scotland, so I guess he figured he had to be seen to be setting up an impartial inquiry.'

  Martin snorted. 'So he's saying in effect that he has no faith in the honesty of any chief officer in Scotland.'

  'That's one way of looking at it. In fact it's a point I should have made to the bugger myself. Tell you what. Have a word with Royston, and ask him, when this thing goes public, to try and work that line into the media coverage tomorrow. I smell another Scotsman leader coming on!'

  'When will it go public?'

  'Any minute now, I should think. Anderson won't hang about. So please, get hold of Pam, and tell her, before she hears it on the radio.

  Then you'd better call Scott Rolland for me. Tell him that Pam'll take the Falkirk job, before he changes his mind and withdraws the offer.'

  'Okay. Look Bob, I can't think of anything to say, except good luck.'

  'Thanks, mate, but I don't need luck. I'm innocent, remember.'

  He hung up and turned to face Mitchell Laidlaw. The chambers of Curie, Anthony and Jarvis were in one of Edinburgh's newest and grandest office developments, with a fine outlook across the Castle Rock and up to Princes Street. Laidlaw's room enjoyed the best of it.

  It was furnished comfortab
ly rather than opulently, but left visitors in no doubt that they were in the nerve centre of one of the country's leading professional firms.

  'So, Mitch,' said Skinner. 'I know your firm doesn't get involved in criminal work as a rule, but nonetheless, wil you take me on?'

  'Of course we wil. Bob,' nodded the ruddy-faced lawyer, looking more rotund than ever in his high-backed leather chair. 'From what you've told me this isn't really a criminal inquiry anyway. It's a sort of a half-breed, set up by the Secretary of State rather than the Lord Advocate, even if it does report to him.'

  'I take it that Anderson has the power to do that?' the policeman asked.

  Laidlaw smiled broadly across at Alex, who sat by the side of his twin-pillared partner's desk. 'What do you think, Ms Skinner?' he asked.

  Alex flushed slightly, thought for a few moments, then launched into her reply. 'Basically,' she said, 'the Secretary of State can do what he bloody well likes unless statute or the courts tell him differently.

  'From what we know of the way this investigation's been set up, I'd say that you could probably chal enge its validity before just about any Scottish judge and win the day. But what would that achieve?

  You would be seen as trying to frustrate investigation of the complaint against you, and at the end of the day, Anderson would simply turn the papers over to the Lord Advocate and back off himself.

  'So any court victory would be Pyrrhic. It would result in you becoming the subject of a ful -scale criminal investigation, and possibly even liable to arrest at a fairly early stage. That's what I think.'

  'Couldn't have put it better myself,' said Laidlaw. 'Of course, if you could establish malice against you by Anderson, there might be grounds for another form of action. Is there a chance of that?'

  Skinner shook his head. 'I can't say so, honestly. Andersen's just covering his arse, playing to his back-benchers.' He snorted. 'If there's any malice in evidence, it's borne by me towards him.'

  Laidlaw spluttered. 'Let's not repeat that outside this room.' He swung round in his chair and leaned across the desk. 'Right, Bob.

  I'l handle this matter personal y, with an assistant.'

  The policeman nodded, and pointed towards his daughter. 'Yes,' he said, 'and she's sat there. I promised Archie that I wouldn't go 149 near any potential witnesses myself. But I want them to know who they're dealing with.'

  'Pops,' Alex intervened. 'Are you sure about this?'

  Mitch Laidlaw raised a hand. 'If he isn't, I am. I don't see anything wrong with a bit of personal involvement in these circumstances.

  Also, if this does require detailed investigation by us… well something of your father must have rubbed off on you!

  'One other thing,' he said. 'It may be helpful if we engage counsel at some point. Do you have any preferences, Bob?'

  Skinner rocked his head back and stared for a while at the dappled ceiling, as if racking his brains. At last he looked back across the desk. 'You might think her daft, but of all the people currently available, the best criminal silk who ever cross-examined me is dear old Christabel Innes Dawson, QC.

  'I often thought that if I was really in the shit, there's no-one at the Bar I'd rather have on my side. Wel I am now, she's stil listed as a practising member, and she stil has all her marbles.'

  Laidlaw smiled. 'I've never instructed her,' he said, 'but I remember seeing her in action, when I was a student. A terrifying sight in ful cry, as I recal. If you want her, I'l have a word with her clerk today, to put down a warning marker.

  'But meanwhile, let's the three of us have some lunch, before we head up to the Crown Office, to find out just what sort of battle the old lady is going to have to fight.'

  46

  Pamela sat open-mouthed, facing Andy Martin across his desk. 'I can't believe it. Surely this must be a set-up. But how would the Spotlight manage to fake evidence so well that it convinced the Secretary of State?'

  'Beats me, Sarge,' said the Chief Superintendent. 'Noel Salmon didn't do it all on his own, that's for sure. He could barely forge a betting slip, far less set up a phoney account in an offshore bank.' A light came into his eyes as he said the words. 'That's a thought, isn't it? I think it's time we stopped bothering about the monkey, and found out more about the organ-grinder.

  'Pamela, do you want to help Bob?'

  She looked at him with sudden outrage. 'Of course I do.'

  'Sorry, that was a sil y thing to say,' he acknowledged. 'What I want you to do, then, is dig up Companies House and get hold of the registration details for Spotlight in the UK. After that I want you to cal a man in Washington. He owes Bob a couple of favours. It's time we called one in.'

  He reached into his desk drawer and produced a smal notebook.

  He flipped through it until he found the page he was looking for, then picked up a pen and scribbled on a scrap of paper. When he was finished he replaced the notebook, locked the drawer, and pushed the paper across the desk to Pamela.

  'That's a direct number to a desk on Capitol Hil. Once you've used it, burn it. The man's name is Joe Doherty, and he's a top gun on the US National Security Council. Tell him that Bob needs help, and why. Then ask him if he can get for us detailed information on the ownership of Spotlight, and on how it operates, international y.

  Anything that he thinks is relevant.

  'Ask him to call me personally, as soon as he has something for us.' He glanced at his watch. It was ten minutes past midday. 'Go on, then, and get started. By the time you've checked the UK company listings, Joe should be in his office.

  'Incidental y, you don't need to say anything to Bob about this.

  He regards Joe Doherty as his own personal snout.'

  Pamela stood up to leave looking shocked and slightly bewildered. For all his personal loyalties to Sarah, Andy felt a pang 151 of sympathy for her. 'Hey,' he said, standing up. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. 'Try not to worry too much. This is nothing; at worst this is just some evil sod playing sil y buggers. Bob's been in far worse scrapes than this and come through them.

  'I often think that he's been in more trouble than even I know about.

  'There was one time he was shot in the leg. He told Alex and me that he had been careless and that his own pistol had gone off accidental y. But that same night, a man disappeared right off the face of the earth… as far as I know, at any rate.

  'I asked about him afterwards, out of curiosity. All I got was silence, and sincere advice through the Special Branch network to mind my own business.'

  She looked up at him. 'You're not saying that Bob…'

  'I'm not saying anything, other than don't be too concerned about him. He's like a cat, with quite a few of his nine lives left.'

  'You know what I like about you, Chief Superintendent,' Pamela said, with a smile. 'You only see one Bob Skinner, and he can do no wrong.'

  Martin grinned back. 'I wouldn't go that far. These contact lenses of mine have a green tint, not rose-coloured. Now, on you go. I'l come out with you. I want to see young Sammy.' He ushered her out of his office and towards her own desk in the corner of the CID

  Command Suite.

  'Tell you something,' he said quietly as she took her seat. 'I ain't half going to miss the big fella's presence. Whoever set Bob up has done Leona McGrath's killer a favour.'

  '… Unless, of course, they're one and the same person.'

  He looked down at her. 'The same thought's been niggling away at me. But let's not turn a long shot into a conclusion. The boss would tel you that setting up the McGrath crime was a ful -time job. He'd say that the guy wouldn't have had time to spare for him.'

  The Head of CID switched his gaze to the far corner. 'Sammy,' he cal ed, 'come through and give me a report on the supplier of those false plates.'

  'I've been waiting to do just that, sir,' the young Detective Constable replied. 'I think I might be on to something.'

  Martin had been heading for his office. He stopped in his tracks
and turned back to face Pye as he rose from his desk. 'You do, do you? Good work if you are, lad. Come on, let's hear it.' He strode back into his office, with his junior at his heels.

  'It's like this, boss,' said the constable, closing the door behind him. 'I was plugging away like you told me to, round the used car network, and round our informants, without getting as much as a 'w1" sniff about anyone supplying dodgy plates. I thought I had run it dry: then I had an idea.

  'Remember those two guys we encountered in the Jackie Charles investigation? Whitehead and Bailey, the two salesmen who worked for him in the Seafield showroom?'

  'Yes,' Martin acknowledged, 'I remember we interviewed them.

  But they were on the up and up, weren't they?'

  'That's right. The inquiry concluded that the showroom was the only legitimate part of Charles's business portfolio, and that they were exactly as they seemed, honest car salesmen.'

  The Chief Superintendent nodded. 'Go on.'

  'Well, sir, I thought, wasn't that a bit unlikely, really? Everything else about Charles was completely bent. Surely some of it must have washed over the car operation. Then I remembered that guy McCartney, the heavy who was nicked in Ainwick with the, eh… incriminating cargo… in his boot. He was one of Charles's team, and the plates on that big white Rover of his turned out to have been false too.

  'So I took a chance. I went down to Seafield, to see Bailey and Whitehead. You know that Jackie's showroom was rebuilt, and that his dad's managing it for him?'

  'Yes.'

  'The old man was out when I called, so I saw the two salesmen together, without being bothered by him interfering, or intimidating them by his presence. I told them that we were wrapping up the prosecution case against Ricky McCartney, and that we had info that Jackie's workshop, behind the showroom, had put false plates on the Rover. I asked if they could confirm it, but I said that we were pretty sure of our ground. Of course, I sort of pointed out that it would mean the end for the business. The finance companies would blacklist it; that sort of thing.'