There he had been, Toni Field’s arch-enemy behind Toni Field’s desk. God, it had been hard to take.
He hadn’t expected subtlety and there had been none. ‘Michael,’ Skinner had begun, ‘you don’t like me, and I don’t like you much either. But that’s irrelevant; if everyone in an organisation this size were bosom buddies it would get sloppy very quickly. Far better that some of us are watching out for each other, and that there are some rivalries in play.
‘I had two CID guys in Edinburgh who could have been twins, they were so close; indeed, twins they were called, by their mates. Eventually they rose until they were at the head of operations. It didn’t work out; things started to slip through the net, because each one overlooked the other’s weaknesses and mistakes. At least that’s not going to happen with you and me, in the time I’m here.’
‘In that case,’ Thomas had ventured, ‘wouldn’t that make me an excellent deputy?’
The response, a frown. ‘Nice try, but no. In my ideal world, people like you and me would be elected to our post by the people we seek to command, not appointed by those who command us, or by boards of councillors. I’ve been here a day and I’ve worked out already that if we did that, you wouldn’t get too many votes.
‘I don’t doubt your ability as an officer, not for a second, but what I’ve seen in ACPOS and heard since I’ve been here make some believe that you’re not a leader. Forgive me for being frank; it’s the way I’m built.
‘However,’ Skinner had continued, ‘even though I chose ACC Gorman as my deputy when necessary, you are still my assistant and that I respect. So let’s work together, not against each other, for as long as I’m here. I’d like to meet with you and Bridie tomorrow morning, so that you can both brief me on your areas of responsibility. Meantime. . there’s something quite important that I’d be grateful if you could handle. It’s not going to be pleasant, but it needs a senior officer.’
And that was how Michael Thomas had come to be standing, seething with anger, in an autopsy theatre, gowned and masked, looking, not for the first time, at the naked body of Antonia Field. The pathologist had followed him into the room. She was a woman also, a complete contrast to Toni, and not only in the fact that she was alive. She was tall, fair-skinned, and the strands of hair that escaped her sterile headgear were blonde.
‘You’re the duty cop with the short straw in his hand, I take it,’ she said. ‘I’m Dr Grace.’ She turned and nodded towards a young man. From what Thomas could see of his face, his skin tone looked similar to that of Toni. ‘And this is Roshan, who’ll be assisting me.’
He realised, to his surprise, that she was North American, possibly Canadian, possibly US; he had never been able to distinguish the respective accents.
‘ACC Thomas,’ he replied. ‘Given the circumstances, I felt it was appropriate that I come myself.’
‘And I don’t imagine Bob tried to talk you out of it,’ she murmured, through her mask.
He looked at her, puzzled. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Chief Skinner. He’s my ex, my former husband. The older he gets, the more squeamish he gets.’
‘I see.’ The bastard had set him up!
‘That said, he’s been to more than his fair share. How about you?’
‘I’ve spent most of my career in uniform,’ he told her, avoiding a straight answer.
‘Ah, so you’ll have seen mostly suicides and road fatalities. They have a pretty high squeamishness quotient.’
‘Mmm.’
She looked at the man. His eyes told her what the rest of his face was saying. ‘You’ve never been to an autopsy in your life, have you?’
‘No,’ the ACC confessed.
‘So here you are, looking at somebody you knew and worked with, who’s now dead and you’re going to have to watch me cut her open and take her insides out, all in the line of duty?’
Thomas felt his stomach heave, but he mastered it. ‘That sums it up pretty well,’ he conceded. ‘I suppose your ex would say “Welcome to the real world”, or something like that.’
‘That sounds like a Bob quote, I admit. Since he didn’t, I assume you didn’t tell him you’ve never done this duty before.’
‘Of course I didn’t.’
‘Ah,’ she exclaimed, ‘the macho thing. The traditional pissing contest, in yet another form. As a result I’ve got somebody in my workplace who’s liable to faint on me or, worse, choke himself to death by barfing inside a face mask. You should have told him, and he’d have sent someone else, because he knows that’s the last thing I need. And by the way, he isn’t an ogre, either.’
‘Well, I’m here now, Doctor,’ he replied stiffly, ‘so we might as well take the chance. I’ll make sure I don’t land on anything important when I fall over.’
‘Not necessary.’ She peeled off her mask. ‘You’re a legal necessity but in practice don’t have to watch every incision or every organ being removed. This is not going to be a complicated job. Cause of death is massive brain trauma caused by gunshot wounds; we know that before I touch her. But the law needs a full report and that’s what it will get.
‘You can go sit in the corner and read a book, or listen to your iPod. If I find something I believe you need to look at up close, I will tell you and you can look at it. But that’s not going to happen. And from what I’ve seen of our next customer, that’s going to be the case with him as well. He was shot from so close up that some of his chest hairs are melted. So go on, get out of my space.’
He looked at her, gratefully. ‘Thank you,’ he said. He started to move away, then paused. ‘Doctor Grace,’ he ventured, ‘this is a silly thing to ask, I know, but Toni and I, well, we were friends as well as colleagues. Be gentle with her, yes?’
‘As if she were an angel,’ Sarah replied, feeling pity for the man, then adding, in case he thought she was being sarcastic, ‘Who knows, by now she may be one.’
Thirty-One
‘Ye cannae do this,’ the prisoner protested, ‘ma lawyer’s no’ here. I’m saying nothin’ till he gets here. And this charge! What the fuck yis on about? Conspiracy tae fuckin’ murder? That’s pure shite. Ah never murdered onybody.’
‘Technically that’s true, Cec,’ Dan Provan admitted. ‘The jury was stupid enough tae convict you of culpable homicide, and the judge was even dafter when he gave you five years. But the boy ye killed was just as fuckin’ deid, so let’s no’ split hairs about it.’
‘We can do it,’ Lottie Mann assured him. ‘We can do pretty much what we like.’
‘Oh aye?’ Cecil Brown stuck out his jaw, with menace, then took a closer look at the expression on her face and realised that aggression was not his best option.
‘Oh aye.’ She pointed at the recorder on the desk. ‘That thing is not switched on. When your brief gets here it will be and we’ll get formal, but until then, tell me what business you and your brother had with the South Africans.’
He stared back at her. When they had arrested him, the DI’s impression had been that he was genuinely surprised. As she studied his big, dumb eyes, that feeling moved towards certainty. ‘What fuckin’ South Africans?’ he asked.
Provan leaned forward. ‘Son,’ he murmured, ‘off the record, who’s your biggest rival in Glasgow?’
‘Ah don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.’
He laughed. ‘Of course you do. Don’t fanny about, Cec. I’m askin’ you who you’ve got in mind, what mind ye have, that is, for toppin’ your brother. Paddy Reilly? Specky Green? Which of those have you crossed lately? Which of those are we liable tae find in the Clyde any day now?’
When the sergeant floated the second name he saw Brown’s eyes narrow; very slightly but it was enough. ‘It’s Specky, right? Let me guess; you and Bazza ripped him off on some sort of a deal, or moved gear intae one of his pubs. So you’re thinkin’ it was him that bumped off the boy. Well, if ye are, ye’re wrong.’
‘Aye, sure.’ The tone was a mix of scepticism and contempt. ‘Ah might be thick, but no’ so thick Ah’d believe youse bastards.’