"Maybe it does, but plant this thought in your head and do not let it waver. No way could Sarah kill anybody. She is not capable of it."
The big man's eyes dropped. "I'll try, Neil, and it's nice of you to say that. But you and I both know, from professional and personal experience, that that isn't true. There are always circumstances, my friend, in which we can do things we never contemplated. You know that as well as I do."
"Not Sarah," Mcllhenney insisted. "I know you two have been alienated lately, but you're not going to tell me you doubt her in this?"
Bob shook his head. "No, I'm not; and I won't, I promise you. I'm sorry I even expressed the thought. But man, this on top of everything else. We've all got our breaking point; maybe I'm getting close to mine."
Neil laughed. "Aye, sure. That'll come when they tighten the screws on your box, man. Even then you'll probably kick it open. You will get over there and you will get this sorted, or you'll fire up the local boys to sort it themselves."
"You have faith in me, don't you?"
"We all do. And it's justified. Look at today, look at Councillor Maley, who was last seen bustling out of Fettes with her spiky tail between her legs. Sarah did not do this, and you'll get her clear."
"And if I do? What then?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean there are other questions."
"Only if you choose to ask them."
They drove on in silence, until Mcllhenney sped round the approach road to the airport. "Going back to Maley," he said at last. "I've got something on her."
"Indeed? Will it keep till I get back?"
"Probably. He's in Shorts Prison. I just need to check out a few things more."
"Go and see big Lenny, if you need to," said Skinner. "Tell him I sent you, and that I'd trust you with his life. He'll get the humour in that."
The inspector nodded, as he drew to a halt on a double yellow line in front of the airport. Two uniformed traffic officers approached as they stepped out of the car. Mcllhenney flashed his warrant card and frowned at them; they backed off.
Skinner took his flight bag from the back seat, and his passport from his friend's hand. "Thanks, man," he said sincerely, 'for everything you've done. But there's one more thing."
"Name it."
"Alex. I'd hoped to see her to tell her about this, but I just haven't had the time. It's a hell of a job, telling her that her stepmother's in the slammer for murder; there's only you and Andy that I'd ask to do it, and I'd rather it was done face-to-face. You'll find her at her office; she thinks she's waiting for me."
"I'll do that."
"And tell her I love her."
Mcllhenney grinned. "She knows that, man."
"Aye, but tell her anyway."
Forty-One
"How did we do with Sheringham?" Maggie Rose asked briskly. Steele and Regan faced her across the desk in her small office.
"He either hides the incriminating evidence in mysterious ways, ma'am," the inspector replied, 'or there ain't any. We went in there with our search warrant at seven o'clock, and we searched every inch of it, but we found nothing explosive or inflammatory apart from a can of hair-spray."
"I thought he lived alone."
"He does," Steele replied, 'but us guys, these days, we're full of surprises."
"The only hair-spray in our house is mine, but I'll take your word for it. Did you put a sniffer dog in?" She caught his frown. "Sorry, I should have taken that for granted. It didn't react to anything, then?"
"There was a blown condom under the bed, but that was all that excited it."
"She must have been in heat," Regan muttered. Rose glared at him.
"There was nothing at all, absolutely nothing?"
"Well," said Steele, 'there was an extra remote. The boy's a gadget freak. He's got a snazzy hi-fi, a big telly, DVD player, video, and all of them work off remotes. But there was an extra one."
"Is that significant?"
"Long shot, but it could be. The technical boys say that it might be possible to trigger an incendiary with a telly remote, if you set it up right. But we'd need to have the detonator to know that, and it was pretty much melted in the fire."
"Yes, damn it, so it was." She looked at the two men. "What you're telling me, then, is that we don't have any grounds for continuing to detain him?"
"Apart from being a little shite, no, we don't," the inspector admitted. "The phone call isn't enough, not nearly. Even last night, once he'd had a chance to think about it, he was claiming that someone could have taken his phone from his pocket, used it, then put it back.
It was made at seven-thirty; there was a staff drinks party in the Candela and Finch offices last Friday evening, part of the bicentenary celebrations."
"So he could be telling the truth?"
"Yes, and if he is that gives us a list of about a hundred and fifty guys to work through. If he isn't, it makes no bloody difference; the phone call alone isn't enough."
"He goes, then. I'll phone his solicitor; I'd better start making soothing noises as well. George, go down to the cells and get him."
The sergeant nodded, and left the room.
"There's one thing worries me about turning him loose, Maggie," said Steele as the door closed.
"I know. He's still the main suspect. Suppose he tries to scare Andrea again?"
"He needs the fear of Himself put in him then, just in case."
"No, he needs me to advise him and his lawyer, politely, about the need to make no contact with Miss Strachan, while this enquiry is unresolved, and she remains a potential witness. Sheringham's well advised, Stevie. However personal you might find this thing becoming, he'll be more afraid of the Law Society than he is of you." She smiled at him.
"But keep an eye on her, informally," she offered, 'if you want. Someone made that call, and if it wasn't our man downstairs, he's still around, he knows about Andrea, and we don't know about him."
Steele nodded. "I agree. I'll keep her safe, don't worry." He looked at Rose. "I like her; that's all I'm saying, but there's something about her, Maggie. With her medication stable and her confidence back, she really is a completely different personality. She's attractive, and she's got a dry sense of humour about her that takes you by surprise."
"But she's wounded, Steve. Don't forget that."
"I know she is. She knows what's happened to her, and even though she's fine under treatment, she hasn't forgotten it. She can't hide her pain completely… any more than you can."
Maggie started; she looked sharply at him, and for a moment he thought that he had said something that would destroy their easy relationship, until she turned her face away and looked out of the window.
"That obvious, huh?" she murmured.
"It is to me."
"Is the whole force talking about me, then?" she asked. "About me and my husband?"
"Not the whole force; only those who don't know any better, although that's about ninety per cent. Those who know you both, reckon that if you've got problems, you're strong enough to sort them out in time.
While you're doing that, they don't change the people you are."
She turned back to face him, leaning back against the edge of her desk.
"We don't have problems, Stevie," she whispered. "I do. Mario's sleeping with your ex-girlfriend… his own cousin… and I don't mind. I wish I did, but I don't. That's all part of it, you see. I don't and I can't."
"Maggie, sorry," he exclaimed. "I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't prying, honest."
"I know you weren't. Somebody had to say something, eventually; I'd rather it was you than Dan Pringle, or George, or some other dipstick.