you knows how to handle it.
`Maybe you never will sort it out. I don't know. But I do know that if, as I could, I were to phone Jock Govan and get you transferred into Willie Haggerty's job in Glasgow Special Branch — it hasn't been announced yet, but he's been made head of CID — I wouldn't have done any of us any favours.
`No Andy, this is what I'm going to do . . . and this is the Chief Constable speaking now.' He moved back to his chair and sat down again, facing Martin across the coffee table. 'I've got a problem in East Lothian. Charlie Radcliffe told me yesterday that he's going into hospital.
He's going to be off for at least four months, and that's only if everything works out OK.
That's too long for an area to be without its commander. You're equivalent rank, and a spell in the uniform branch will be good for your career development. The decision is made, Superintendent. You're going to Haddington, on a temporary basis, as area commander.
You'll report to ACC Operations, and through him to me. The only time Bob'll be in your chain of command is in my absence, when he deputises.'
`What about my job as Head of the Drugs and Vice Squad, sir?'
`That'll be Bob's problem. Serves him right in a way.
`No more discussion. Your leave's cancelled. Report to Haddington tomorrow. Charlie goes under the knife next Monday, so you won't have much time for a handover!'
Five
‘You’re not going to tell me to cancel the tournament, are you?'
Arthur Highfield, the Secretary of the Professional Golfers' Association, looked at Skinner apprehensively. They stood in the middle of the practice putting green, set before the wide arc of the conservatory, which opened out from the clubhouse bar, doing double duty as sitting area and viewing gallery.
The big policeman shook his grey mane. 'No, Mr Highfield. No need for me to do that. No point either. I'll want to keep the VIP changing room and the Jacuzzi cubicle sealed off, in case our scientists want a second look at anything, but otherwise you can have the place back.' He paused. 'You don't anticipate any trouble with your sponsors?'
`Murano? They're tied into a pretty tight contract, drafted by Greenfields; even if they wanted to they couldn't break it. I'll tell them right away, of course, but they've got lots of arrangements made. They're putting one of their top eight people in each of the pro-am teams
— that's part of the deal —and some of them will have left Japan for Scotland already.'
`How many other VIP guests are you expecting?'
Ànother sixteen, apart from the golfers. I've given Superintendent Martin a list. I'll give you a copy too, when we're finished.'
`What about the pros?'
`Well, as you know, Cortes, Wyman and Tiger Nakamura are here already. The other five are playing in this week's tour event in England. They are Deacon Weekes, the US Masters champion, Ewan Urquhart, the Open champion, Sandro Gregory, the Aussie — he just won the US PGA — Oliver M'tebe, the young South African lad, and of course Darren Atkinson, el Numero Uno Mundial. He's the current US Open Champion, of course, so that means that we'll have all four of this year's major winners.'
Skinner laughed quietly. 'With a million on offer, I'm not surprised. It's the biggest golf prize ever, isn't it?'
`That's right. There have been other "million" events, but they've all been in US or Aussie dollars. This is the first in sterling.'
Skinner shook his head. 'I was third in our club medal last month. Won a tenner in the sweep.
By the time my wife came to collect me, I'd spent that much in the bar!'
He looked back at the clubhouse. A bulky Japanese man in an outlandishly colourful sweater was looking out of the window. Skinner pointed. 'That's the Tiger, yes?'
`Yes, that's right. Leading money-winner on the Far Eastern Tour. He's never won in America or Europe, but Japanese sponsors always insist on at least one of their countrymen in any invitation field, and of course he's a Mike