Read Online Skinner's Round by Quintin Jardine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Quintin Jardine
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to see if there are any other skeletons in his business dealings.'
`Good idea. You do that; I'll be in the office tomorrow. Look in sometime and give me a progress report. Unless, that is, you get lucky and make an arrest. Mind you on the basis of what we have so far, that'll take a lot of luck.
Now, I'd better go and speak to the press. See you later.'
He stepped through the automatic doors, out into the afternoon sunlight, with Alan Royston following behind. In addition to the two television operators, there were around a dozen reporters and three photographers assembled in the car park. He strolled slowly across.
Àfternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to tell you as much as I can. We are dealing with the murder of a man. He suffered a fatal cutting injury some time after midday today, and we do not see the possibility of suicide. Enquiries are under way, and you will be kept informed of their progress.'
`Who's the victim, Bob?' A husky voice came from the rear of the group.
Skinner glanced across in surprise. 'Hello, John. Didn't expect to see you out here on a Sunday.'
John Hunter, a veteran Edinburgh freelance, and one of Skinner's oldest journalist friends, laughed ironically. 'You're kidding. Wi' all these new tabloids opening up and wanting copy, I don't have a day off any more. Come on. You can tell us. Who is it?'
Skinner shook his head. 'Sorry, chum. Not until I'm sure that the widow's been informed.' He nodded towards Royston. Àlan'll give you a name as soon as we know that's happened.'
"S no one of the golfers, is it?'
`Certainly not. Just be patient for a few minutes more and we'll have something for you.'
Ànything else you can tell us, then? Like, is anyone in custody?'
`No, I'm afraid not. The victim went off to take a bath after playing golf, and the body was found by a member of staff half an hour later. We're still taking statements from everyone who was on the course at the time.'
Aha,' said John Hunter, dramatically. 'Golfing, eh. That tells us it's no' the Marquis, anyway.'
He paused as a thought crossed his mind. 'Here, it's no' Michael White, is it?'
`See you later,' said Skinner, poker-faced, as he left the group and walked back to his car.
`How's Andy? From what I hear, he's settled in OK. Roy Old has moved big Mcllhenney out to East Lothian, and I expect that he's behind that.
`Jimmy's appointed himself as a sort of unofficial emissary between us, sounding me out, sounding Andy out. He tells me that Andy isn't in the mood for any olive branches. Says he never wants to see another Skinner as long as he lives!'
`So I shouldn't invite him to supper just yet?'
Ì don't think that would be a brilliant idea. More to the point though, have you had any joy in tracking down that daughter of ours?'
`No. Her band's management company gave me a list of venues, but they wouldn't go any further than that. I pushed them, but eventually the girl there got rude and told me that they weren't there to act as a contact service.'
`Cheeky sod! Give me the number, and I'll ruin her day.'
`No, my darling. You've done enough of that. I'll write to Alex at each of the venues on the list, just asking how she's doing. Just letting her know that I'm thinking about her. Don't worry, honey. She'll get in touch.'
He looked at her mournfully. 'What makes you so sure?'
She laughed. 'She might have fallen out with you; with me even; but before long she'll realise she's missing her kid brother.
`Just be patient. We'll hear from her. And when we do . . . we'll just take it from there.'
MONDAY
Seven
‘H ow did she take it?'
`Just about as you would expect of Myrtle White. Very calmly, at first. Then as it sank in she began to shake. No tears, just this violent shivering as if the room was very, very cold.'
Sir James Proud gave a slight shudder himself, as the memory chilled him, too.
Òf all the jobs I've ever had to do in the police service,' he said quietly, 'breaking bad news is the one which
`Good idea. You do that; I'll be in the office tomorrow. Look in sometime and give me a progress report. Unless, that is, you get lucky and make an arrest. Mind you on the basis of what we have so far, that'll take a lot of luck.
Now, I'd better go and speak to the press. See you later.'
He stepped through the automatic doors, out into the afternoon sunlight, with Alan Royston following behind. In addition to the two television operators, there were around a dozen reporters and three photographers assembled in the car park. He strolled slowly across.
Àfternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I'm going to tell you as much as I can. We are dealing with the murder of a man. He suffered a fatal cutting injury some time after midday today, and we do not see the possibility of suicide. Enquiries are under way, and you will be kept informed of their progress.'
`Who's the victim, Bob?' A husky voice came from the rear of the group.
Skinner glanced across in surprise. 'Hello, John. Didn't expect to see you out here on a Sunday.'
John Hunter, a veteran Edinburgh freelance, and one of Skinner's oldest journalist friends, laughed ironically. 'You're kidding. Wi' all these new tabloids opening up and wanting copy, I don't have a day off any more. Come on. You can tell us. Who is it?'
Skinner shook his head. 'Sorry, chum. Not until I'm sure that the widow's been informed.' He nodded towards Royston. Àlan'll give you a name as soon as we know that's happened.'
"S no one of the golfers, is it?'
`Certainly not. Just be patient for a few minutes more and we'll have something for you.'
Ànything else you can tell us, then? Like, is anyone in custody?'
`No, I'm afraid not. The victim went off to take a bath after playing golf, and the body was found by a member of staff half an hour later. We're still taking statements from everyone who was on the course at the time.'
Aha,' said John Hunter, dramatically. 'Golfing, eh. That tells us it's no' the Marquis, anyway.'
He paused as a thought crossed his mind. 'Here, it's no' Michael White, is it?'
`See you later,' said Skinner, poker-faced, as he left the group and walked back to his car.
`How's Andy? From what I hear, he's settled in OK. Roy Old has moved big Mcllhenney out to East Lothian, and I expect that he's behind that.
`Jimmy's appointed himself as a sort of unofficial emissary between us, sounding me out, sounding Andy out. He tells me that Andy isn't in the mood for any olive branches. Says he never wants to see another Skinner as long as he lives!'
`So I shouldn't invite him to supper just yet?'
Ì don't think that would be a brilliant idea. More to the point though, have you had any joy in tracking down that daughter of ours?'
`No. Her band's management company gave me a list of venues, but they wouldn't go any further than that. I pushed them, but eventually the girl there got rude and told me that they weren't there to act as a contact service.'
`Cheeky sod! Give me the number, and I'll ruin her day.'
`No, my darling. You've done enough of that. I'll write to Alex at each of the venues on the list, just asking how she's doing. Just letting her know that I'm thinking about her. Don't worry, honey. She'll get in touch.'
He looked at her mournfully. 'What makes you so sure?'
She laughed. 'She might have fallen out with you; with me even; but before long she'll realise she's missing her kid brother.
`Just be patient. We'll hear from her. And when we do . . . we'll just take it from there.'
MONDAY
Seven
‘H ow did she take it?'
`Just about as you would expect of Myrtle White. Very calmly, at first. Then as it sank in she began to shake. No tears, just this violent shivering as if the room was very, very cold.'
Sir James Proud gave a slight shudder himself, as the memory chilled him, too.
Òf all the jobs I've ever had to do in the police service,' he said quietly, 'breaking bad news is the one which
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