Skinner's Rules (15 page)

‘Fuck it!’ He snarled through narrowed lips. ‘Never changes, does it.’

Before moving off he dialled the Fettes Avenue number. As he swung the Astra away from the kerb, he pressed the send button.

The ringing tone boomed out of the system’s speaker. After three rings, a clear male voice answered: ‘Police Headquarters.’

‘This is Chief Inspector Martin. Please connect me with Chief Superintendent Skinner, right away.’

‘What the hell does Andy want?’ Skinner asked the question aloud, but to no one in particular. He looked up at Mackie from his swivel chair. ‘Okay, tell them to put him through here.’ Mackie disappeared, and a few seconds later, the telephone rang.

Skinner picked it up on the first tone. ‘Hello, Andy, what’s up? Was the Pakora too spicy for you?’

‘I didn’t get that far, boss.’ Skinner could tell from the booming tone that the call was coming from Martin’s car.

‘Look, I can’t explain over the phone, but I’ve had a message from an outside agency. They ask that there should be no further questioning of our guest at this time.’

In the car, Martin felt awkward, and on the spot. He had never heard anyone give Skinner an order before; now he was doing it himself. The message was second-hand and courteously phrased, but it was an order, and they both knew it.

Haggerty and Bell saw Skinner frown. ‘I hear you, Andy. The request, he leaned heavily on the word, ’is academic.’ Now Martin was puzzled. ’However, we will comply. See you when?’

‘Ten minutes, tops.’

‘Okay.’ Skinner replaced the receiver, slamming it into the cradle. Haggerty cast him an enquiring look.

‘What’s up?’

‘Dirty work at the bloody crossroads, perhaps. It seems that our silent pal might have friends in high places watching over him. Whatever it is, it’s too secret for an open telephone line. Andy’ll explain when he gets back. In the meantime, if you need to brief your gaffer, there’s the phone.’

‘Bugger that, sir, have we got time for a pint?’

‘You Glasgow boys get your priorities right, don’t you. Come on. Andy can wait!’

When they returned, the two psychiatrists were waiting in the CID office, drinking bad coffee and completing their assessment of Yobatu.

Kevin O‘Malley looked up as Skinner came into the room. ’Hello, Bob, how are you?’

‘I’m in better shape than Yobatu, I reckon. What d’you think?’

‘Complete withdrawal. The man’s had a massive shock. It could be guilt. It could be the fact of his daughter’s death getting through to him at last. As far as fitness to plead is concerned, let me have him in hospital for a week and I’ll give you a considered view.

‘On the face of it, from the information that your man Mackie gave us, we think he’s probably a psychopathic personality with two extremes of behaviour, huge energy or total depressive introspection. When the top end reaches a critical point, a mental fuse blows and he collapses into the state he’s in now.’

‘Can you fix the fuse?’

‘Maybe we can, maybe we can’t. But we’ll begin by putting him to sleep for a few days, with your agreement.’

‘I might not have a choice. There’s something funny about this one. In fact, Kevin, there’s a lot funny about it. I’m a guy who’s suspicious by nature of things that fall into place too easily.’

Martin was waiting in Skinner’s office. He rose as the Chief Superintendent rose as he entered the room. ‘Hi, Andy. You don’t know our Strathclyde colleagues, do you?’ He introduced Haggerty and Bell.

For Andy, the new title still had an awesome ring. ‘Good evening, gentlemen. Pleased to meet you. My message has implications for you too, so it’s as well that you’re here.

‘Just over an hour ago, my office had a “most urgent” call from a bloke called Allingham. He’s a Superintendent in the Met, but on secondment to the Foreign Office. I suppose you’d describe him as part of the Diplomatic Service. His job is to deal, as quietly as possible, with awkward incidents involving foreign embassies and nationals.

‘It must keep him busy, for he was in his office this evening, when he had a call from the Japanese Ambassador. According to him, the Ambassador was well upset. He had just been told by Madame Yobatu of her husband’s arrest, of the things we found, and of the likelihood of murder charges. The Ambassador’s on the spot, boss, and so are we all.

‘What we didn’t know, and what Yobatu and his wife didn’t choose to tell us, is that the guy has vice-consular status.’

He paused only for breath, but that was time enough for Skinner to explode, ‘Jesus Henry Christ! You know what that means don’t you.’

‘Exactly, boss. Yobatu has diplomatic immunity!’

‘Marvellous, just fucking marvellous!’ It was one of the few times that Martin had heard Skinner really raise his voice in anger. He decided, very quickly, to wait for the storm to blow over. Even the case-hardened Haggerty looked awed.

‘So what does Mr bloody Allingham want us to do? Turn this murderous lunatic back out on the street?’

‘No, boss. He hasn’t asked that, not yet anyway. The Ambassador wants to talk to you, face-to-face, before deciding what should happen. But he can’t order Yobatu to waive immunity, nor can he sack him retrospectively. Anyway, the Ambassador, whose name is Shi-Bachi, is flying up himself, tonight. He’ll be on the 8.40 British Midland, arriving here about ten o’clock. Allingham is coming with him, and it was him who asked that there should be no further questioning until they arrive.’

Skinner laughed, a short laugh without humour. ‘That’s no problem at all.’

‘What do you mean, boss?’

‘The man’s a vegetable, Andy. He’s had a complete mental collapse. Kevin O’Malley’s just gone off to arrange for his admission to the Royal Edinburgh, and Brian Mackie’s away to get Madame Yobatu, so that she can sign him in.’

Martin whistled. ‘That could be dicey. What if Madame decides to cut up rough, and starts denying everything on her old man’s behalf. Could we wind up being the bad guys here?’

The hard edge had gone from Skinner’s voice. He laughed that odd laugh once more. ‘She can say what she likes, Andy. But there’s one thing, or rather two, that she can’t talk her way round. Remember what was in that toffee box in her old man’s garage!’

He turned to Haggerty. ‘Willie, you’ve got an interest in this. You’d better stay here to see the Ambassador. Get your boss through if you think it wise. Don’t worry, though, if the shite does hit the ventilator over this, I’ll make sure that none of it splatters on you.’

He looked over to Martin. ‘I want you here too, Andy. Allingham’s your pigeon. I’m going to talk to the Ambassador directly, not through him. So you be here to look after him. I won’t have time. Besides, it’ll be worthwhile experience for you; might teach you to store the names of all resident diplomats, honorary or not, in that photographic memory of yours.’

He picked up the telephone and called Sarah. ‘It looks like being a long night, love.’

‘Can I still expect you?’

‘Yes, but I’ve no idea when I’ll be through here. Things concerning our Japanese guest have taken an unusual turn. If I’m not there by midnight or so, you can start without me.’

Martin returned to the Fettes Avenue office at 9.45 p.m., after failing to make peace with Joanne. Skinner, Haggerty and Bell were still there. Three empty pizza boxes and three plates with cutlery lay on the table.

‘You didn’t see Proud Jimmy on your way in, did you?’ Skinner asked. ‘I called him earlier on. Ambassadors are right up his street.’

‘No sign when I came in. Who’s collecting the Ambassador and Allingham?’

‘Brian’s gone to pick them up. I gather the plane was on time. They’ll be brought here, then we’ll go up to the Royal Edinburgh. Yobatu’s there now, under guard, with his wife. I’ve asked Kevin O’Malley not to sedate him until the Ambassador’s had a chance to look at him.’

‘How’s Mrs Yobatu bearing up?’

‘Okay. Brian asked her if she could account for the things we found. She said that she didn’t have a clue. All that she could say was that her husband was and had always been a man who put great store in honour.

Martin grunted his disapproval. ‘That’ll be a great source of comfort to lain MacVicar’s mother!’

As he spoke, Chief Constable Proud swept into the room, resplendent in full dress uniform and radiating authority. The Strathclyde detectives looked hugely impressed, almost bowing as they were introduced. Proud nodded to them, then turned to Skinner.

‘He’s not here yet, is he?’

‘Not yet, Chief. Let’s go out front to meet him.’

‘Yes, let’s be a welcoming committee.’ He bustled out, all epaulettes and silver braid, with Skinner and Martin following.

They stood behind reception for five minutes before Mackie’s car drew up at the main entrance. When he appeared in the hallway, the Inspector led an elderly, balding Japanese, and a tall man with a thin, sallow face and a dark moustache. They were dressed for the frozen North, in navy blue overcoats with a Savile Row look. Snowflakes melted on the dark cloth.

Proud shook the Ambassador’s hand, and nodded in Allingham’s direction. Shi-Bachi bowed slightly, and he and the Chief exchanged pleasantries as Proud led the way to his office. Skinner, following behind, attempted small-talk with Allingham. The man did not respond.

There was a pot of coffee on a tray on the big rosewood table in the Chief Constable’s office. Proud poured six cups and handed them round.

‘Well gentlemen, shall we get down to business. Bob Skinner has charge of this investigation, and enjoys my complete confidence; I suggest that he leads off.’

Shi-Bachi smiled and nodded his assent. He looked across the table towards Skinner, who put down his cup.

‘Thank you, Chief, and thank you, Your Excellency, for coming north so quickly to help us with this difficulty. Now, where shall I begin?’

To his astonishment, even as the Ambassador opened his mouth to reply, Allingham cut in, brusquely.

‘You can begin by telling His Excellency how a Japanese vice-consul, with full diplomatic immunity, comes to be locked up in your nick!’

Skinner turned on the man. He glared at him and said in a hard, even voice, ‘Listen here, Mister; Superintendent is it? I don’t know who the hell you are, I don’t know what the hell you are, and guess what, I don’t care about either! But I know where the hell you are. You’re on my patch, interfering with my investigation, with no locus or authority. So before go any further, you will go somewhere else with Mr Mackie, and make the Ambassador’s hotel arrangements. That’s what you’re here for. That will allow His Excellency and I to discuss this matter without interference. Brian, take this man away!’

Allingham looked to Proud for protection, but was met by silence and an angry glare. He turned back towards Skinner, blustering. ‘If that is what the Ambassador wishes... ’

‘It is.’ Shi-Bachi cut him short. The man flushed, but rose without another word and left the room, with Mackie on his heels.

Skinner turned back to address the Ambassador. ‘As I was saying, sir.’

Shi-Bachi nodded. ‘Now that my guard has gone,’ he said with a smile, ‘perhaps you would simply tell me why you believe that Yobatu
san
may have done these terrible things.’ He spoke in perfect, if slightly clipped English.

And so Skinner led him through the whole terrible story, beginning with the brutal murder of Yobatu’s daughter and ending with the man’s mental collapse earlier that evening. He missed no detail, and it was fully half-an-hour before his account was complete.

‘So, Your Excellency, you will see that we have the strongest evidence of Yobatu
san’s
guilt. But as a diplomat, even an honorary one, he cannot be prosecuted, or brought to account for himself in any way. He is known here as a respectable businessman. If he is simply declared
persona non grata,
people will want to know why. If the story should emerge there will be embarrassment, to say the least. How do you suggest that the matter should be settled?’

Shi-Bachi looked grave. And then, after deep thought, he said, ‘Let me see him. Let me try, at least, to speak with him. Then, as you say, we will sleep on it, and decide upon action in the light of the new day.’

Skinner nodded in agreement. ‘Then let’s go to the hospital.’

When they arrived at the Royal Edinburgh Hospital in Morningside, they were directed to a first-floor room. A uniformed policeman stood outside the door.

Inside, a second constable sat facing the bed on which Yobatu lay. His wife was at his bedside. The woman rose to her feet the moment the Ambassador entered, preceding Skinner, Proud and Martin. She bowed in respect. Shi-Bachi, smiling, walked to her. He spoke softly in Japanese and pressed her gently back into her seat.

Yobatu lay propped up by pillows, staring fixedly at a point on the wall. Shi-Bachi leaned over him and spoke clearly in Japanese. There was no reaction.

‘I am sorry, gentlemen,’ he said to the policemen. ‘For your convenience, I will speak in English.’

He turned again to face the bed. ‘Yobatu
san,
you know me well.

‘You have been accused of terrible crimes. Do you have any defence, or any answer to these charges?’ His tone was stem, but it brought no movement, no reaction of any kind.

Shi-Bachi repeated his question, louder the second time. But Yobatu continued to stare at his piece of wall.

The Ambassador looked at the man for some time. He placed himself in his line of sight. Still Yobatu did not react, or move a muscle. Shi-Bachi turned to the group of policemen.

‘We have a problem, you and I. Let us go away to think about it.’

They left the hospital in silence. Skinner drove Shi-Bachi to the Caledonian, one of the two massive hotels which stand like bookends at either end of Princes Street. A subdued Allingham met them in the foyer. They arranged to meet at Fettes Avenue at 9.30 a.m. next day.