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
‘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
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