Read Skinner's Round Online

Authors: Quintin Jardine

Skinner's Round (6 page)

BOOK: Skinner's Round
5.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

`That's a pretty accurate summary of our last meeting.' Martin's voice was heavy with irony.

Sir James Proud looked at him, kindly. He had seen the younger man through one or two bad
times, but could not recall him ever being so downcast.

ÒK, but there's more. He said that when he got home, Sarah had given him a going over,
and had made him calm down a bit. He sees now that maybe he did go over the top. I
wouldn't say he's completely happy. He really feels you both let him down.

`But all the same, I think that if you went to see him and talked it through . . . Maybe, as a
gesture, if you apologised, even.' He angled his great silver head, looking tentatively at
Martin. The younger man's green eyes flashed.

Sir James went on quickly. 'What I don't understand is that you and Alex are supposed to be
away on holiday. Bob told me you flew to Florida on Friday. So why are you sat here, now?'

Martin smiled for the first time, but without humour. 'That's the nub of it, sir. The ACC

doesn't know the damage he's done. You tell me to talk it through with him. I tried to do that
last Friday morning, and Alex accused me of taking his side, to protect my career! So I had
an even bigger fight with her than the one with Bob, and she packed up and left. I went
through to Glasgow after her, but she wasn't there. Eventually I cancelled the flights and told
Henry Wills, up at the University, that we wouldn't be using his place after all. I called her
number all weekend, but no reply. It wasn't till Monday, when her flatmate came back from a
weekend at home that I found out where she'd gone. Remember that band she sang with last
year, after the Festival show? Square Peg, they're called.'

`Vaguely. Square Pegs and the like are beyond me.'

`Well, Alex had told me that they're going on a tour of Europe and that they'd asked her if she
would be one of their backing singers. She'd turned them down, but she called their manager
last Friday morning and asked if the job was still open. It was. She left her flatmate a note
telling her that we'd had a bust-up and that she was off, there and then, to join the band for
rehearsals in Dublin.'

His jaw tightened. 'So, sir, I don't see me apologising to the ACC. I've spent the last two days
thinking about this. He told me that I'd betrayed him. All I can see is that he's broken up the
best relationship I've ever had in my life. You know, I was hoping that Alex would come back
from Florida with a ring on her finger. Then Bob steps in and we don't even make it to the
airport.

The last thing that he said to me was that I had no future under his command. So I've taken
him at his word. I've considered my career path, and I've come to the conclusion that it has to
lead me away from him, and right now.'

Sir James pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the window. He looked out across the
playing field, seeming to be lost in thought, as a tense silence hung over the room. After
almost a minute, he seemed to nod slightly. Then he turned back to face Martin. 'Look son,
I'm not going to take anyone's part in this. You are all my friends and I will always be
available to every one of you. All I'd say to you is that Bob and Alex have always been closer
than any father and daughter I've ever known. Now they've blown up at each other, out of the
blue. As for you and Bob, you've been the best of friends for years. This conflict between the
three of you . . . it's so sudden and unexpected that none of you knows how to handle it.

`Maybe you never will sort it out. I don't know. But I do know
that if, as I could, I were to phone Jock Govan and get you transferred into Willie Haggerty's
job in Glasgow Special Branch — it hasn't been announced yet, but he's been made head of
CID — I wouldn't have done any of us any favours.

`No Andy, this is what I'm going to do . . . and this is the Chief Constable speaking now.' He
moved back to his chair and sat down again, facing Martin across the coffee table. 'I've got a
problem in East Lothian. Charlie Radcliffe told me yesterday that he's going into hospital.

He's going to be off for at least four months, and that's only if everything works out OK.

That's too long for an area to be without its commander. You're equivalent rank, and a spell
in the uniform branch will be good for your career development. The decision is made,
Superintendent. You're going to Haddington, on a temporary basis, as area commander.

You'll report to ACC Operations, and through him to me. The only time Bob'll be in your
chain of command is in my absence, when he deputises.'

`What about my job as Head of the Drugs and Vice Squad, sir?'

`That'll be Bob's problem. Serves him right in a way.

`No more discussion. Your leave's cancelled. Report to Haddington tomorrow. Charlie goes
under the knife next Monday, so you won't have much time for a handover!'

Five

‘You’re not going to tell me to cancel the tournament, are you?'

Arthur Highfield, the Secretary of the Professional Golfers' Association, looked at Skinner apprehensively. They stood in the middle of the practice putting green, set before the wide arc of the conservatory, which opened out from the clubhouse bar, doing double duty as sitting area and viewing gallery.

The big policeman shook his grey mane. 'No, Mr Highfield. No need for me to do that. No point either. I'll want to keep the VIP changing room and the Jacuzzi cubicle sealed off, in case our scientists want a second look at anything, but otherwise you can have the place back.' He paused. 'You don't anticipate any trouble with your sponsors?'

`Murano? They're tied into a pretty tight contract, drafted by Greenfields; even if they wanted to they couldn't break it. I'll tell them right away, of course, but they've got lots of arrangements made. They're putting one of their top eight people in each of the pro-am teams

— that's part of the deal —and some of them will have left Japan for Scotland already.'

`How many other VIP guests are you expecting?'

Ànother sixteen, apart from the golfers. I've given Superintendent Martin a list. I'll give you a copy too, when we're finished.'

`What about the pros?'

`Well, as you know, Cortes, Wyman and Tiger Nakamura are here already. The other five are playing in this week's tour event in England. They are Deacon Weekes, the US Masters champion, Ewan Urquhart, the Open champion, Sandro Gregory, the Aussie — he just won the US PGA — Oliver M'tebe, the young South African lad, and of course Darren Atkinson, el Numero Uno Mundial. He's the current US Open Champion, of course, so that means that we'll have all four of this year's major winners.'

Skinner laughed quietly. 'With a million on offer, I'm not surprised. It's the biggest golf prize ever, isn't it?'

`That's right. There have been other "million" events, but they've all been in US or Aussie dollars. This is the first in sterling.'

Skinner shook his head. 'I was third in our club medal last month. Won a tenner in the sweep.

By the time my wife came to collect me, I'd spent that much in the bar!'

He looked back at the clubhouse. A bulky Japanese man in an outlandishly colourful sweater was looking out of the window. Skinner pointed. 'That's the Tiger, yes?'

`Yes, that's right. Leading money-winner on the Far Eastern Tour. He's never won in America or Europe, but Japanese sponsors always insist on at least one of their countrymen in any invitation field, and of course he's a Mike Morton client.'

`What does that mean?'

Highfield smiled. 'It means that doors open for him. SSC organised this event. The European tour has nothing to do with it. I'm here as the PGA rep, and I've got a say in the running of it, but this is the Mike Morton show. White and Hector Kinture brought them in two years ago to set the thing up, and, I have to say, they've done their usual awesome job.'

`Hold on a minute,' said Skinner. 'If it's an SSC project, what's Masur doing here? I thought they and Greenfields were deadly enemies.'

Òh they are, make no mistake. Originally there weren't going to be any Masur men here, but then Deacon Weekes won the US Masters, and Paul Wyman signed with Greenfields in the spring after his contract with SSC expired. Even then Morton wouldn't have had either of them. He was going to introduce two more from his stable.'

`Why'd he change his mind?'

`Michael White had it changed for him. He asked him very politely to book Weekes, and to keep Wyman in the field as the top US money-winner. Morton told him, very impolitely, to get stuffed. So White took a week's holiday in Tokyo and went to see the President of Murano Motors. A two hundred and fifty million yen prize fund buys you a lot of influence.

Morton hated it, but he had to back down.'

`So he had a down on White?'

Highfield looked at him in surprise, hesitating. 'Well yes, I have to say that he did. He was reasonably courteous to Mr White's face, but behind his back, "Interfering son-of-a-bitch" is the politest term I've heard him use.'

`You know Morton well?'

`God yes, in my job it's inevitable.'

`What sort of a guy is he?'

Highfield hesitated again. 'Well

`Look Mr Highfield, this is a murder investigation. I need people to tell me things. But don't worry. I keep them to myself, unless I'm under oath.'

`Well, in that case. Morton is the worst enemy a man could have. Vicious, can be petty, completely ruthless, and of course very powerful. He hates competition and in the past he's fought it off. But Masur's a different kettle of piranhas.'

Ìn what way?'

`Well for a start, he's as big a shit as Morton. But he's not the only competition. There's Darren's company too. It manages him, and Andres Cortes . . . and young M'tebe.'

Skinner looked at him, taken aback. 'I must start paying closer attention to the golf magazines in the club. I didn't know that Atkinson had moved into management.'

Òh yes,' said Highfield, 'about a year ago now. It caused quite a stir at the time. He's been self-managed all through his career, and it's done him no harm. Not long ago there was a rumour that he was going in with Greenfields, but he wrong-footed them all and set up his own operation with his brother. He's a very smart guy, is Darren. He thinks long-term. He's in his mid-thirties, so he knows that it can't be too long before he's knocked off the number-one-ranking spot.

`He's a charismatic chap, as well as being a brilliant golfer. He attracts followers like no one I've ever seen, not least because he is what he seems, genuinely likeable. At the moment his overriding aim is to win every pound, dollar or yen that's available to him. But he's very ambitious in other ways, too. He told me that he doesn't want to become another middle-aged legend, touring the Sunshine States and competing with other has-beens for obscene pots of money. The management company is only a first step; he's looking for other golf-related investments. Basically, he wants to become as powerful in Europe as SSC is in the States and Greenfields is in Australasia. He says that he isn't interested in anything beyond that. He simply wants to make sure that there's a strong European management operation available to European players.'

Skinner laughed. 'And get even richer himself in the process.'

Highfield shrugged his shoulders. 'Don't quote me, but rather him than either of those two corporate carnivores in there.'

Ì'll watch with interest. Does he have any partners? Cortes, for example?'

`No. Cortes only wants to play. Andres only thinks about his game. It's all that matters. Why, he won a Ferrari in an Italian tournament a few months back, and gave it to his caddy. "I only want to drive golf balls," he said to the press. He likes Darren and he's happy for his people to be running his business. When he signed up, all the Spaniards followed, and most of the young Brits. Quite a few of the older tour guys have signed letters of intent, in advance of their existing contracts expiring.

`Young M'tebe was the real catch, though, after Andres that is. Ever seen him?'

Skinner nodded. 'Yes. I had a day at the Open. He's quite a talent.'

`Wonderful player,' Highfield agreed. 'The next superstar, everybody says . . . and they're right. Once he gets used to Northern Hemisphere conditions, he'll be hard to hold.'

'Atkinson's holding him this week, though. He had a six-shot overnight lead down south, had he not?'

Òh yes, make no mistake, Darren will stay on top for two or three years yet. He's still a class above the rest. He's due in tomorrow to begin practice. If you're here, introduce you.'

Ì'd like that,' said Skinner. 'I'm pretty sure I will be here. I've no idea what our interviews will produce, but even if we make an early arrest there will still be things for my team to do.

Normally I try not to become over-involved at crime scenes now, but Michael was an acquaintance, and a very good friend of my Chief, so I'll be giving this one special attention.

Now I must go. I've told my troops to report to me in the boardroom once the interviews are over. Perhaps you could drop that guest list in there?'

`Bob, just let it lie. We've got a police force to run as best we can, and I don't think that you
want it to be deprived of Andy Martin, any more than I do.'

`No, Jimmy, I don't. That doesn't mean that I think Andy's an innocent victim. But I wish I
could play that scene over again.'

Ànd how would you handle it differently?'

Ì'd bite my tongue, turn around and walk back down those bloody stairs.'

`Like hell you would, man. Your fuse is too short. As for Alex, she's your double in every
respect. You tried to come the heavy father once before, I seem to recall, and she reacted in
just the same way.

BOOK: Skinner's Round
5.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Dad for Billie by Susan Mallery
Count on a Cowboy by Patricia Thayer
Meatloaf in Manhattan by Robert Power
Locked Rooms by Laurie R. King
Wine and Roses by Ursula Sinclair
Portland Noir by Kevin Sampsell