Skinner's Festival

by Quintin Jardine

  'OK. We may not expect further immediate action, but we have things to do now. We’ve had a direct threat to the whole Festival, and we have to privately warn all the personnel involved. There’s no way that we can cover all the venues. Mr Martin’s been pulling some figures together. They should give you an idea of the scale of our task.

  Andy?’

  The detective chief inspector, powerfully built and blond-haired, took Skinner’s place at the front of the room. His green eyes were made even more vivid by his tinted contact lenses as he fixed a piercing gaze on each member of the team in turn.

  'Those of you who ain’t culture vultures – and I have to admit I’m not myself – will probably be surprised by just how big this Festival is. I should really say “Festivals”, because this year there are six different ones all running at the same time. The Festival proper – that’s the Official job, the one the City backs – it’s relatively small. Over the next three weeks, starting tonight, it will put on about one hundred and fifty events, concerts, opera, coots football – sorry, ballet – and plays, in more than a dozen different venues. On the other hand, the Festival Fringe, despite its name, is the biggest event of the lot. This year it’ll put on several thousand individual performances of all shapes and sizes, in over a hundred venues. They range from church halls to circus tents, and they’re all over Edinburgh. Two of them are even

  staged out of town, in Musselburgh.

  'Then we’ve got the Film Festival. Very prestigious. Not Cannes, or anything like it, but it still attracts some high-quality film premieres, and some big names. That what’s-her-name, the one with the big voice-box – you know who I mean, Neil – she’s due in for it next week, and she’ll have to be looked after. Put your hand down Macgregor, Sergeant Rose will draw that job.

  The Film Festival takes place mostly in the Filmhouse, and in that other cinema up Tollcross. This year there are about a hundred screenings, and five will involve personal appearances by directors and stars. The best thing about the Film Festival is that it only lasts for a couple of weeks, not the full three.

  “The Jazz Festival has an even shorter run: nine days, to be exact. It’s been scaled down a bit over the last couple of years, but it still puts on eighty shows – or is that “gigs”? – in nine halls.

  The Jazz Festival, so a friend tells me, tends to attract fewer tourists than the rest. Its for real aficionados, and it’s the big week of the year for all the local jazzers. There is also a strong

  correlation between the Jazz Festival and the consumption of strong ales and lagers, which won’t make our security job any easier.

  'The Book Festival is different entirely. It only happens every other year, and it’s an exhibition as much as anything. This year they’ve stuck it in the new Conference Centre in Lothian Road.

  That makes it easy for us, 'cause there’s all sorts of security built in there.

  'As well as all that lot, we also have a Television Festival. That only lasts for a few days, and it’s more of a talking shop really, but it still pulls in some very high rollers. Scottish Television puts a lot of money and effort into it, and all the big UK names – from the BBC, the Commercial network and now from satellite – turn up. There’s an international contingent, too. Guess who’s coming this year, boss? Your mate Al Neidermeyer of Television News International.’

  The rest of the team looked puzzled. Skinner laughed.

  'If we should happen to meet, Andy, I’m sure the pleasure’ll be all his!’

  Martin grinned and continued. 'When I’d tallied that lot up, I thought that all we needed to make up the set was an international gathering of arms dealers. Then I realised that, in a sense, we have. Because on top of it all, although it isn’t part of any Festival, there’s the biggest event of them all, the Military Tattoo.

  Three weeks of night-time performances on the Castle Esplanade, six thousand seats for every performance, and every one of them sold in advance.

  'Taking it all together, the Festival involves thousands of live performances at a couple of hundred different venues. No one knows for sure how many people will be taking part, but it’ll be in the tens of thousands for sure. As for spectators, working it out on a bums-on-seats basis, it’s reckoned to be around a million.’

  Barry Macgregor let out a soft whistle.

  'Remember,’ Martin went on, 'these are the performance events. I haven’t mentioned the various sorts of art exhibition that’ll be running. There are about a dozen regular galleries in

  Edinburgh, and quite a few other places are pressed into service.

  So that’s what’s happening in our city over the next three weeks.

  And we’ve just had a threat to it of a lethal nature.

  'The idea of calling it all off is a non-starter. The Government can’t be seen to give in to terrorism, and neither, for that matter can the police service. And, anyway, it’s too late. So our job is to protect it, the whole event, as best we can, and the best way to do that is to catch the people behind the threat. On that front, as the boss has said, there are no leads so far. On the security side, I have only two bits of good news. The first is that we can forget the

  exhibitions, during the day at least, and also the Book Festival. All of those have high-calibre private guards as a condition of their insurance cover. There’s a very big exhibition in the National Gallery – Rembrandt’s greatest hits or something. We’ll give that special attention at night. The second bonus is that we can forget the Tattoo. It’s a military event, and the military will look after it. But the rest is up to us. Boss?’

  'Thanks, Andy.’ Skinner took the floor again. 'Right. First, I’ll state the obvious: that which you’re all thinking. We don’t have anything like enough polismen and women to give proper

  protection to all those venues. And, in any event, the game plan is to keep this whole business from becoming public knowledge for the moment at least. But, within these four secure walls, I’ll tell you frankly that I don’t think we’ve a snowball’s chance of doing that for too long. If this lot are as determined and resourceful as I think they are, they’ll soon find a way to force us to go public on their threatening letter. In the meantime heavy police presence at all the Festival events, even if it were possible, would be counter productive, as it could only alarm and annoy the public.

  'No, what we must do is plan on the assumption that any future incidents will involve high-profile targets. Therefore, we’re going to concentrate on the biggest venues. The news blackout on that letter will buy us maybe a day or two, so let’s put that time to good use. In an hour from now, Mr Martin and I are meeting all of the Festival directors, save one, in the George Hotel. We’re going to tell them what’s happening and what we’re doing about it. Then we’re going to swear them to secrecy for as long as we say so. I am operating – and, therefore, so are you lot on my team – with the benefit of certain extra powers afforded me by the Secretary of State. If anybody plays silly buggers with us, we can, as a very last resort, bang them inside. We’ve only had one problem so far with the guy Neidermeyer from TNI, that Mr Martin just mentioned. All our own people are toeing the line, and so will the Festival directors. The reason I’m going to brief them is because you’ll need their cooperation. I want you lot, starting this evening, to recce all the major venues, and then check in here tomorrow morning with reports on how each one can be protected effectively with the minimum visible strength. I’m not using uniforms, if I can help it. If this crowd do start taking pot shots at

  Festival events, then our boys and girls would be sitting targets in their blue suits and funny hats.

  'Brian, I want you to give everyone here a list of the venues.

  Cover all the Official Festival venues: that’s the Usher Hall, Lyceum, King’s, Empire and Playhouse, at least. Cover Filmhouse, and the telly Festival venue, too. Cover all multiple

  centres, where they’ve got more than one theatre; that’s places like the Assembly Rooms and the Pleasanc
e. Oh, and cover the Traverse. Remember, that’s part of Saltire Court, and our friends may decide that a building named after our Scottish national flag would make a prime target. I want your reports to include details of all entrances and exits at each place. By that I mean public, performers’ and vehicle entrances. Produce for each hall and theatre a security plan. If you think we need to shut a few entrances and slow the normal flow in and out, don’t be afraid to make that recommendation. As long as we can empty a place in a hurry, if we need to, it doesn’t matter to me how long it takes to fill it. Bear in mind too that, by Tuesday at the latest, all performers and stagehands will have passes, and will need to show them on their way into the building.’

  Sarah spoke for the first time. Skinner sensed her striving to appear as formal with him as she could, to stake out no special position within the team. 'Won’t that involve thousands of people? And will the photo-booth machines be able to cope?’

  He nodded. 'Sure, we’ll have to issue thousands of passes. But I’m going to second the Scottish Office Information staff to do the processing. And the passes won’t be photographic. They’ll be credit-card style with a signature on the back. We’ll make every applicant sign their pass in the presence of the issuing officer, and then we’ll make them sign in and out of their venue every day. But come on, doctor, tell me. What’s the real reason for the passes?’

  Sarah felt as if everyone in the room was watching her. A frown-line appeared suddenly above her nose, emphasising her concentration on his question. Then, just as suddenly, her face lit up.

  'It’s all about the application forms. You want every performer or stagehand to fill in an application form.’

  Skinner was pleased at her perception, but kept it to himself. 'Right, They fill in the application form. Then Mr Plod feeds the details into his great big computer, and if his great big computer is any bloody good at all, out pop all the nasty secrets. Unless we turn up a very nasty secret indeed, something like a convicted paedophile giving a one-man show for kids in the back of a Transit, we do nothing precipitate, but we keep a very close watch on all the odd-bods, to see where we get led.’

  Skinner switched his gaze to Macgregor. 'What else do we do, Barry?’

  The young detective beamed with pleasure. 'Hotels, sir. Everyone checking into a hotel is asked to fill up a registration form. We just expand them a bit, if necessary. Then, every day,

  we collect copies of all the completed forms and stick them through the computer as well.’

  That’s the game, son. And what do we get out of all that?

  Probably sweet FA, but we do it anyway. And, just like with all the other routine precautions we’re taking, we hope that God’s luck’s on our side.’

  He paused to look around the room, fixing his eyes on each member of the team in turn. When he spoke again, it was in a gentler tone.

  'OK, my good people. Go out there and do your very best and, as usual, that’ll be good enough for me. But, as you do it, keep this thought in your minds. I saw that poor boy today. I know in my heart that this one will get even nastier than today before it gets better. We’ve got other people’s lives in our hands here. Let’s not let them slip. While you’re at it, look out for yourselves, too. I love you all, as friends as well as colleagues, and I don’t want any mishaps. Go to it. This is a no-leave job, so I’ll see you all tomorrow morning.’

  TEN

  'Andy,’ said Skinner, and nodded for Martin to follow as he headed for the door.

  They left the room, Sarah following on their heels and waving goodbye to the rest of the team as she closed the door behind her.

  Bob paused in the corridor and turned towards her. 'Sorry, love, Andy and I have a few things to do. No need for you to hang around here any longer. What you could do for me when you get home, though, is look at your copy of their letter – which I see you did not shred before you left the room.’

  'Uh-oh, my first blooper.’ Sarah turned a shade of pink.

  ·And hopefully, your last. Still, let’s put it to advantage. Read it carefully, study the language, the style, anything in particular that strikes you, and see if you can come up with some sort of a psychological profile of the author.’

  'Yes, boss!’

  'And, once you’ve done that, burn it!’

  She nodded. 'Yes, sir, will do. See you later. We will get to Alex’s play, won’t we?’

  'No problem. I’ll rest easier if I’ve taken a bloody good look at that venue myself, anyway. I’ll be home for 7:30, latest. We can eat after the show, so book us a table somewhere, eh?’

  He started off towards Martin, who stood waiting at the end of the corridor, but she held him back with a gentle tug at his sleeve.

  'Bob. In there, earlier on, I had the impression that Andy was going to say something important, but you shut him up. Was it something that you didn’t want the whole team to hear – or just me?’

  He looked at her wide-eyed. 'Don’t know what you’re on about, love. When did I ever chop Andy off in public – and before you lower ranks, too?’

  The unmasked doubt in her expression countered the wide-eyed innocence in his. 'Skinner, you are being evasive. We will discuss this later.’ Her tone left no room for doubt.

  “Nothing to discuss. But I’ll see you.’ He strode off to join Martin.

  As soon as they were out of sight, the big ACC cuffed the Head of Special Branch lightly around the ear. 'Dropped me in it there, mate, haven’t you. Don’t tell me you weren’t on the point of chipping into my briefing with a homily about gun-toting motorcycle messengers in Charlotte Square. Christ, if I hadn’t been looking at you at the time! There are things you need to break to the wife in private – if you choose to break them at all.

  Now I’ve got no choice!’

  Martin wore a guilty look that was rarely seen. 'Sorry, boss. I just didn’t think.’

  Skinner considered his point made. 'It’s OK, son. I chose to bring Sarah into the team, so it’s half my fault for putting you in the situation, anyway. There’s another side to it, though, and a good reason not to tell the team about my wee bit of excitation.

  These Apache Couriers are all over town. I’d hate to think of what might happen if next week one of them even looked sideways at one of our team while reaching into his jacket. Bang,

  bang. Dead courier. “Oh, you were only getting a hankie out were you. Sorry about that. Just a wee mistake.” No, thank you very much! Not even Proud Jimmy would see the funny side of that one.’

  They had reached Skinner’s office in the Command Suite.

  'Come on in, Andy, and I’ll let you halfway in on a state secret. I told you I’ve already accessed available files on the MI5 computer from my other office, and come up blank?’

  Martin nodded.

  “Well, not all the stuffs on computer. With all these hackers and folk like that, and viruses and so on, the plain fact is that information technology doesn’t have the security you need at the very top level – or at the bottom level, depending on how you see these things. There are files still kept on paper, in London, behind a very thick door with a very long combination and a very loud alarm. I’m going to use my secure phone to brief the MIS analysts to look at them all, and prepare me a list of people to be considered. It probably won’t be a long list, but I’ll bet they’ll have some entries for us. This will all be stuff I probably haven’t myself. I’ll have picked up bits of it now and then, just wee scraps of information, but the total picture is gathered together by section teams in Head Office.’

  He sat down in a chair at the side of his desk and pulled his scrambled telephone to him.

  'While I do this, Andy, could you access your SB stuff through my terminal, and run another list for me. Journalists – anyone you’ve got on file, either here or in branches in the rest of the

  country. Look at their special interests and their known associates. I fancy we’ll want to talk to one or two of them, too, when the moment comes.’

  That
not a bit of a risk, leaning on journalists?’ asked Martin.

  'Who said anything about leaning on them? We’ll just say we’re consulting them; it’ll make them feel important. The hack is not yet born who is so hairy-backed and anti-establishment that he doesn’t want the polis owing him a favour. You do that, while I make this call. Then we’ll get off to the George to scare the shit out of the Festival directors.’

  ELEVEN

  The George is not the most imposing of Edinburgh’s first-division hotels, but it is one of the best. It is situated on the street from which it takes its name, and its narrow entrance affords clients a greater degree of privacy than its massive rivals at either end of Princes Street. It is possible to slip virtually unobserved into the George, while entry through the wide doors of the Caledonian or the Balmoral, past their liveried and effusive keepers, is always something of a performance.

  Skinner and Martin arrived at the hotel in the BMW just after 5:00 pm, finding a parking place with unusual ease, as the Saturday shopping crush had eased off. Martin, who enjoyed

  special relationships with every hotel manager in the city centre, had asked for a private room for their meeting. He carried a briefcase as they walked into the hotel. Six of the seven Festival directors were waiting for them. Only Trevor Golley of the Book Festival had been unavailable. None of the six had been told in advance that the others would be present. As the two policemen entered the room, the low buzz of conversation stopped, and half a dozen faces turned towards them.

  Skinner broke the ice. 'Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I must thank you for coming along here at such short notice, and in response to such a mysterious invitation. We appreciate how busy you must be just now, so we won’t keep you long.’