Skinner's Ghosts by Quintin Jardine Read Free Book Online

Mrs McG' ath may have had ... sorry to be so blunt... before and after her widowhood.'
    The big detective nodded. 'We'l do al that, Joe, and any more that's necessary, don't you worry. Just you go and get out your fine-tooth comb.'
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    'Can I ask you something, Bob?'
    Skinner turned to Pamela and smiled. 'When couldn't you?'
    'Oh come on! When I went to work for you at first; I couldn't then. And now, when I see shadows cross your face when you don't know I'm looking at you.'
    'That happens a lot, does it?'
    'Yes it does. For example, every time I find you looking at your son's photograph, your eyes are thousands of miles away.'
    He grimaced. 'Allow me that, Pammy, please. I miss wee Jazz every moment of every day. Missing him's become a part of me, but it doesn't affect our relationship. Come on, what did you want to ask me?'
    She looked around the kitchen of Skinner's bungalow in Fairyhouse Avenue, not far from the police headquarters building. 'Why have you never brought me here before?'
    He looked her straight in the eye as he replied: 'Because this is the home I made with Sarah. The furniture in it we bought together.
    The swing on the tree outside I made for our son.
    'Gul ane's different. That's the home I made with Myra, years ago.
    You know about her, al about her life and death. It seems natural for you and I to be together there, or for that matter at your place. But I haven't felt right about bringing you here, not until now. That's the truth of it.'

    She looked at him, solemnly, and nodded. 'Yes, I thought you'd say that. And I understand it. So why have you brought me here this afternoon?'
    He smiled back at her. 'Because this evening I'm going to begin to do what I promised you. I'm going to have dinner with Alex and Andy, and I'm going to tell them that you and I are seeing each other.
    'Then tomorrow, I'm going to have lunch with the Chief in the New Club, and tell him the same thing.
    'Final y, tomorrow night, I'm going to phone Sarah and talk things through with her. I'm going to ask her if she wants a divorce.'
    'What if she says no?'
    'At that point, I'l tell her about us. I'm sorry if that seems devious or even cowardly, but I'd sooner that Sarah and I divorce because 30
    she's thought it through and wants to than because I'm putting a gun to her head.'
    He saw her eyes narrow. 'You're guilty about me, aren't you?'
    He shook his head at once. 'I have a clear conscience. My mother might not have seen it that way, but I do. Sarah and I had parted before you came on the scene. But I do care for her, and I want to be as gentle on her as I can.'
    'What if she tel s you she has another man?'
    'I'll say, fair enough.'
    'But you'l hurt inside.'
    'If I do, love, that's where it'l stay. Now, let's talk about something else.'
    To his surprise, she frowned, and a different shadow crossed her face. 'Remember when I dropped my car off at my place, I went up to check the flat?'
    Bob nodded.
    'There was a message on the answering machine. From Alan Royston.'
    He snorted. 'Royston? Your ex? Did he want you to ask me to let him off the hook?'
    She shook her head, vigorously 'Don't be daft. He doesn't know about us, any more than anyone else does. No, he didn't leave any message, other than for me to call him as soon as possible. He sounded funny, though - anxious, I mean. What should I do?'
    'Nothing!' said Skinner, vehemently. 'Don't cal him back under any circumstances. I'm interviewing him on Monday morning, to give him a chance to explain himself. I'm stil undecided what to do about him. If you speak to him at al there's a danger that you could compromise both of us.
    'In fact, till I have dealt with him, don't even mention the bugger's name to me. For now, Royston's another subject that's off limits!'
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    The Saturday evening traffic in Leith was unusually heavy, a result in part at least, Skinner guessed, of the police flagging down and questioning the driver of every grey car in sight.
    Having dropped