Bob Skiinner 21 Grievous Angel by Quintin Jardine Read Free Book Online Page A

Bella was.

    I shook my head. ‘Try again?’

    She snorted. ‘All right, Skinner. God, you’re a fuckin’ bastard. Ah do a few shifts in the saunas, when Ah’m needed.’

    ‘I didn’t know you were a qualified masseuse.’

    ‘Ah can massage a cock as well as most, although probably no’ as well as one of you polis shites.’

    Beside me, young Martin seemed to recoil with distaste. I saw his hand go, subconsciously, to the crucifix on his neck chain, as if he was warding off an evil spirit, and maybe he was. ‘Back to Marlon,’ I said. ‘You’re saying you haven’t seen him since Tuesday?’

    ‘That’s right.’

    ‘Does he often stay away for a couple of days?’

    ‘Naw, but he said that Mr Manson had gone tae Newcastle, so I suppose he’s gone too.’

    ‘He’d no other plans for Tuesday?’

    ‘None that he told me.’ Finally she seemed to realise that I was stringing her along; she folded her arms tight across her chest and glared at me. ‘Look, Skinner,’ she hissed. ‘What the fuck is this about?’

    She was a nasty, vicious cow from a family without a detectable moral code, but there is one part of the job that no cop ever enjoys; doesn’t matter who’s being given the news. ‘Sit down, Bella,’ I murmured.

    And she did, hard, on the leather settee. I didn’t have to say another word; she knew well enough, for she’d had the same news before. Under the tan her face went ashen, then her back straightened and her mouth set in a thin white line; but her eyes stayed dry. ‘What happened?’ she asked. The edge on her voice could have shattered diamonds.

    ‘He was found dead late this afternoon,’ I replied, ‘in the old swimming baths in Infirmary Street. We’re not certain how long he’d been there, but we think since Tuesday night.’

    ‘How did he die?’

    ‘It seems that he fell off the high board. Our guess is that he had help.’

    ‘Was it just him?’

    ‘What do you mean?’

    ‘What about Mr Manson? Marlon wasnae just his driver, he was his minder as well.’

    ‘No, Manson wasn’t there; we still have to speak to him. But he’ll keep. Bella, do you know if Marlon might have upset him in some way?’

    ‘Naw. No chance of that. Marlon worships the ground that man walks on. And Tony,’ she corrected herself, ‘Mr Manson, likes him too. This is someone else.’ Her expression changed, turned into one of pure savagery. ‘That bastard Holmes! I should have done that fuckin’ job myself, no’ trusted our Billy!’

    ‘Stop right there, Bella,’ I warned her. ‘Whatever Holmes was in the past, he’s out of it now. The man can’t even wipe his own arse. Now, if you’ve got any idea who might have done this, tell us now, and we’ll nail them. But you do nothing yourself; you’ve lost enough of your family to the life you chose to live.’

    Her eyes blazed up at me. ‘Chose? You fuckin’ ignorant toffee-nosed bastard. You come and live here. You bring your family here and see what sort of a fuckin’ choice you’ve got.’

    I didn’t have a glib response to that one. All I could offer was, ‘People do move out, Bella.’

    ‘Aye, most of them in the back of a Panda car, the rest in boxes, like ma boys and ma brothers. Thank God our Mia’s made it.’

    ‘Where is she?’ I asked. ‘Married?’

    ‘She’s had better luck than that. She’s got a good job; she’s on the radio.’

    Back then, I was a cynic, so my life wasn’t full of surprises, but every now and then . . . I couldn’t hold back a gasp. ‘Eh? As what?’

    ‘She’s a presenter. A disc jockey, like. She calls herself Mia Sparkles. Watson or Spreckley didnae sound showbiz enough.’

    ‘Where? What station’s she on?’

    ‘Airburst,’ Martin volunteered.

    I looked at him. ‘Never heard of it.’

    ‘Maybe not, boss, but I’ll bet your daughter has. There were some new licences issued the year before last; it started broadcasting last August. They’re targeting a