Autographs in the Rain Read online

  are that's the only reason. But if you go up to the golf club, you'll be

  doing something that the police may have done already, or worse, may

  still have to do.

  'Give it up for today. Just go home.'

  He heard her sigh. 'Okay,' she conceded. T will. Come and see me after

  work?'

  'Sure.' He paused, and chuckled. 'Can I bring my toothbrush?'

  There was a silence on the line. 'Okay,' said Ruth, eventually. 'But

  only if you bring your shaving kit as well. I'm funny about morning

  stubble.'

  'Mmm,' he said, replacing the phone quickly; it took a conscious effort

  to force his mind back to the job, and to the minute of the morning's

  meeting.

  Nevertheless, he succeeded; he deciphered his notes quickly and had

  almost finished transcribing them, when the phone rang once again. 'DS

  Pye.' That flash of pride again.

  'Sammy? This is Superintendent Rose. Are you alone?'

  'Christ,' he thought. 'My lucky day.'

  AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN

  'I mean are you free to speak?'

  'Yes, ma'am. Why?'

  'Because something very odd has happened, and I thought I'd talk to

  you about it before I did anything. My duty CID team here in Torphichen

  Place has just had a call from the CID in N Division of Strathclyde Police,

  Cumbernauld Office. Fortunately Ray Wilding took the call himself;

  someone else might not have twigged to the name.

  'Sam, the Strathclyde boys have asked that we pick up Ruth McConnell

  and deliver her to them for questioning about a suspicious death. Do you

  know what this is about?'

  'Jesus!' Pye exploded. 'Some bastard's going really over the top now.

  The so-called suspicious death is Ruthie's uncle; we found him on Saturday

  when we went to visit him. Mr Chase knows about it; he was in the Ops

  Room on Saturday and he called out the local police for me.

  'The old gaffer took a heart attack, or something similar, in his bath.

  That's all there was to it. The Strathclyde lot are being really heavy-handed,

  Ma'am. They wouldn't let Ruthie into the house when she went through

  this morning.'

  'She's not at work?'

  'No. The boss gave her the day off to make funeral arrangements and

  start tidying up the old boy's affairs. Leave it to me, ma'am, I'll speak to

  Mr Martin or Mr Skinner. One of them'll squash Strathclyde.'

  'No, Sergeant, they won't. This is my divisional responsibility, and I'm

  not beginning my tenure of office by showing favouritism, or by getting a

  name in a neighbouring force of some weak woman who passes tough

  decisions up the ladder. If the Cumbernauld CID want to interview Ruth,

  that's their right in the circumstances, whether they're being officious or

  not.

  'Where is she right now? Do you know?'

  'I hope she's driving back through to Edinburgh.'

  'Does she have a mobile?'

  'Yes.'

  'Okay, here's what I'll do. I will call N Division back and tell them

  that I don't have the resources to spare officers to act as delivery boys.

  I'll tell them that they can interview Ruth at this office at five o'clock.

  You call her and tell her to report here in time. Make sure that she does,

  mind.'

  Pye felt anger rumbling up in him, but he suppressed it. He knew enough

  Jl

  not to shout at Maggie Rose. 'Very good, ma'am. Can I sit in on the

  interview?'

  'I shouldn't think so for one minute. But you can be here. From what

  you say, they should really be interviewing you as well.'

  38

  'You did the right thing, Maggie; don't worry about it. I appreciate your

  phoning to tell me about it, but the decision was yours all the way, and your

  assessment of the situation is spot on. You can rest assured that I won't go

  snarling at anyone through in Lanarkshire, either; I promise you, I'll keep

  my hands off this one, completely.

  'All the same,' Bob Skinner continued, 'when the Strathclyde officers

  get to your place, I want them to be bloody clear as to who it is they've

  come to interview. I can't fault anybody for just doing their job, even if

  they are insensitive enough to ask for a bereaved relative to be brought to

  them for interview, but if I find out afterwards that they've been discourteous

  or aggressive to Ruth in any way, then I will have their tripes for supper,

  and no mistake.'

  The superintendent smiled gently. Til explain the background just as

  you say, sir, don't worry.'

  'You do that. Who knows, they might even invite you to sit in on their

  interview. Don't let Pye anywhere near it, though. In fact, once he's dropped

  Ruthie off, send him packing. Tell him you'll give her a lift home once

  they're finished with her; you don't want him pacing the corridor outside

  the interview room.'

  'You're right: I don't. I remember how Mario was when I got hurt, and I

  remember thinking that it was just as well Brian Mackie had the bloke who

  did it locked up in a cell. By the same token, the idea of having a serving

  officer in the building while his girlfriend's being interviewed... even if it

  is a formality... does not appeal to me: too many potential complications.'

  She paused. 'I suppose it is a formality,' she said tentatively.

  'Of course it is,' the DCC responded at once, then he too hesitated.

  'They're being heavy-handed about it, right enough, but I'm sure that's all

  it is.'

  'Still, it's unusual

  'For someone to be brought in for interview in a run-of-the-mill sudden

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  death investigation? Yes, it is. You know, Mags, with every minute that

  passes this is becoming more difficult for me. As Ruth's boss, and more

  than that, as her friend, I want to pick up the phone, call the officer in

  charge of this investigation, and ask him what the bloody hell he's playing

  at. Yet as the DCC I can't be seen to be leaning on another force, especially

  not at this time.'

  She caught his veiled meaning.

  'If Jock Govan was still in the Chief's chair in Glasgow,' he continued,

  'it would be okay. I could just have called him; or even Willie Haggerty, if

  he hadn't been moved back into uniform as a divisional gaffer. But I don't

  know the new guy yet, so I have to be careful not to provoke any diplomatic

  incidents. I've already had to defuse one bomb today; I don't fancy handling

  another.'

  'Why don't you ask Mr Chase to make enquiries?'

  'Are you being mischievous, Detective Superintendent Rose?' Skinner

  snorted. 'I don't believe in introducing foxes to chicken coops, and that's

  all I'm saying. No, we'll just have to be patient, if we want to find out

  whether there's anything sinister behind this request. It does help having

  them on our turf, though.'

  'In what way?'

  'Well, not interfering in advance of the interview is one thing. But

  afterwards .. .'

  'Don't worry, sir. These people won't leave this office without me

  knowing what all this is about.'

  'Good for you. Keep me in touch.'

  The DCC hung up the phone and returned to the pile of papers throu
gh

  which he had been wading when Rose had called. There was nothing there

  of any drama or import; over the previous few months the force had gone

  through a period of calm almost unprecedented in recent years. It had been

  so quiet that Skinner had even taken to reviewing old and unsolved

  investigations, reading the notes to see if anything caught his eye in a way

  that might offer a new line of inquiry.

  The latest of these, the file on the unsolved murder of two teenage girls,

  still lay on his desk. He glanced at it, and was reaching for it, when the

  phone rang again.

  'Yes, Neil,' he said, knowing that it would be Mcllhenney on the other

  end of the line.

  'Call for you, Boss.'

  'On your number?' Almost invariably, calls for Skinner came through

  Ruth McConnell's extension.

  'Yes. Remember the lady you mentioned to me on Saturday? It's her. Do

  you want to talk to her?'

  'Course I do. Put her through.'

  He leaned back in his chair, hearing the click on the line. 'Hi Lou,' he

  began. 'What a surprise. Right on cue too; my day was beginning to drag.

  What can I do for you?'

  'Nothing, really. I just wanted to talk to you; to make sure you were all

  right after Friday night, I suppose. I guessed that you wouldn't have given

  me this number if you didn't want me to call, so . . .'

  'Yeah, sure. But never mind how? am. Did you get back home okay?

  A"d are you all right? It's me should have phoned you, really, after chucking

  you as broad as you're long down Regent Street.'

  Her deep throaty laugh sent a warm familiar feeling down his spine.

  'You're forgiven: just like old times in a way. I'm fine, honestly. You owe

  me a pair of tights and a cleaner's bill for one Dior jacket, but apart from

  that... Tell me,' she asked, with sudden concern, 'did the police catch the

  man?'

  'Hah! The police didn't even believe that there was a man. There were

  no signs of a gunshot at the scene. The borough commander got very Humpty

  Dumpty about it.'

  'But that's ridiculous! There was a shot. I heard it. I saw the car drive

  away, and I saw you chase it. I'll bloody well call and tell them.'

  'No, Lou. You won't. That would not be a good idea; not at all. Don't

  you worry about old Humpty. He's fallen off his wall since then; all the

  king's horses and all the king's men are looking for the bits, even now.

  'As for the incident itself, I'm not worried about it. London can be a

  wild place at night; any city can. Chances are it was a random thing, some

  cowboy who gets a buzz out of scaring the posh people up the West End. It

  happens.'

  'Why don't I believe you believe that?'

  'Because of who I am, that's all; it's as likely an explanation as any.'

  'But not the only one.'

  'No, but really, Lou. Don't concern yourself.'

  'Because big tough Bob can take care of himself? Sure you can; you

  always could, even at university. But I've read about you. I didn't tell you

  on Friday, but I've followed your career ever since you began to get your

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  name in the papers. Remember Lucy, my sister? She was only a toddler

  when you and I were going out together, but she's kept me in touch with

  your adventures over the years. I know about some of the scrapes you've

  been in, like that time when you were stabbed and almost killed. You

  probably didn't even know this, but while you were in hospital, your wife

  had a delivery of a bouquet of red roses. There was no card, but they were

  from me.

  'You're not a cat, Bob. You don't have nine lives-. Too damn right I'll

  concern myself, even though I'll concede that Friday night probably had

  nothing to do with your past.'

  He scratched his chin. 'God, do that speech in an upstate New York

  accent and you'd sound just like Sarah.'

  'She's welcome. I'll tell you something, my love. It's great to hav"r-a

  past with a man like you, but I don't envy Sarah the present.'

  'That's comforting to know. In that case you won't want to have dinner

  with me again, when I'm in London after the New Year.'

  'I didn't say that. Actually, you'll have an opportunity before then; unless

  you don't want to be seen with me in Scotland, that is. I've been offered the

  lead in a new movie, and it's going to be shot in Scotland. I get to play a

  lady lawyer involved in some sort of shenanigans; I've only just been sent

  the script.

  'I'm coming up to Edinburgh on Friday; I'm meeting the director and

  the executive producer in the Balmoral, then being driven round the

  locations.'

  'Okay,' he responded. 'If you're free in the evening, let's have dinner.

  But why don't we do it at my place? You can meet Sarah, and give her your

  sympathies. You can tell her about the roses too if you like. If you take the

  part, you'd better meet my daughter as well. She's a lady lawyer; she'll

  help you research it.'

  He heard her draw in her breath. 'Are you sure about that? Introducing

  me to Sarah, that is.'

  'Sure I'm sure. Are you up for it?'

  'Yes,' she said, firmly, a decision made. 'Thank you; I'd like that.'

  'Okay, it's a date. I'll collect you from the Balmoral around six.'

  'Is this normal practice with you CID people?'

  Ruth McConnell was bristling with anger as she stood on the pavement

  staring at the entrance to the Torphichen Place police office. As she turned

  her fury on Sammy Pye he had a mental picture of his toothbrush, standing

  alone in its glass beside his bathroom mirror.

  'No, it isn't,' he assured her. 'But different forces do things in

  different ways. These people are sticklers, and there's nothing I can do

  about that.'

  She was only slightly mollified. 'Okay, I won't blame you. All the same,

  this is ridiculous. Telling me to report to them, indeed! Why couldn't they

  have come to see me at home? That's what you'd do in the same

  circumstances, isn't it?'

  Pye was inwardly thankful that he had not told her of the original request

  from the Strathclyde officers, that she be brought to their office. 'Sure it is,

  love,' he answered, 'but like I said, I can't speak for these punters.'

  She shook her long shimmering hair and straightened her back. 'Oh well,'

  she snapped. 'We're here now, so let's get it over with. Then maybe I can

  get on with burying my poor uncle.

  'Where do we go?'

  T we to take you to Maggie Rose's office.' He held the door to the building

  open for her.

  'Will you come with me when I see them?'

  'I don't think they'll allow that.'

  She stopped in her tracks. 'What? In that case I'm not going to speak to

  them. Take me home, right now.'

  'Ruthie,' he pleaded. 'Don't be difficult. If I was them I wouldn't want

  a man from another force sitting in either. But I've told you, it's just a

  routine interview. So come on.'

  She shot him a look. 'Okay. But you be here when they're finished with

  me.

  44

  AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN

  'I will be, don't worry. We've got a date, remember.'


  'What? Oh yes. We'll see how I feel after this. Who knows, I might be

  right off policemen by then.'

  He knew that she was serious, as he led her up the stairway which led to

  the CID suite, rapping on the divisional commander's door and stepping

  inside on her call. 'Ma'am. Ruth's here.'

  Maggie Rose looked at him, unsmiling, and at his companion as she

  stepped into the room. 'That's good; right on time.' The red-haired detective

  superintendent nodded in the direction of two visitors who stood beside

  her desk, a man and a woman. 'These are our colleagues from Strathclyde;

  Detective Inspector Mackenzie and DS Dell. People, this is DS Pye, and

  this is the lady you want to see.'

  She looked at them, her expression suddenly sharp. 'This summons had

  better be justified, otherwise you might find yourself having to explain to

  Ms McConnell's boss.'

  As the tall, dark Mackenzie smiled, his face took on an expression of

  pure menace. Pye took an instant dislike to him, and wondered if, after all,

  he should force his way into the interview. 'And who's that?' the man