Thursday legends - Skinner 10 by Quintin Jardine Read Free Book Online

over the house, but I
wouldn't get too excited about that. They were at their heaviest in the
kitchen, and we found some on the Domestos and Flash bottles and on the Hoover,
so my best guess is that he had a cleaning lady.
    'The
front door was unlocked, and there was a good palm print on the outside. I'm
guessing that it might belong to the guy who found the body.'
    'Whatever
happened to Alec's dog?' The Head of CID murmured.
    'It's
at North Berwick nick,' Rose answered. 'When we arrived it wouldn't let anyone
near the body, so a couple of the boys took it away.'
    'I'm
sure we'll find it a home,' said Skinner. 'What else, Arthur? No obvious
weapon?'
    'Only
one, sir. There were plenty of objects that could have been used to inflict the
head injuries - there's a whole range of tools down in the cellar - but they
were all absolutely clean. We did find a blowlamp, down there, but there's no
chance that it was the one used on Mr Smith. It was stone cold and it had a
full gas-fuel cylinder. The cellar door was open too, sir. It was very slightly
ajar and there were footprints leading to the ladder that goes down to the
beach. It looks as if that was the perpetrators' exit route, right enough.' 'I
take it we're—'
    Rose
read the DCC's mind. 'I had uniformed officers begin a search of the beach as
soon as the light was good enough, Boss. The trouble is, though, there was a
high tide last night, so if the killer did discard something, he probably threw
it in the sea. It might be difficult to definitely tie anything we do find to
Alec's house.'
    Skinner
grunted agreement, then looked at the scene-of-crime inspector. 'Write up a
provisional report as quick as you can, Arthur, and let DCI Rose have it.'
    Martin
pointed to the camcorder. 'You played that back yet?'
    'No
fear, sir,' said the Inspector. 'That quick look through the viewfinder was bad
enough; I've got no wish to see it blown up. I'll only watch that again if you
order me to.' He paused. 'Oh, by the way, there was nothing on the still
camera, other than pictures of wee boats sailing in the bay out there. I've
told the lab to print them anyway, but there'll be bugger all in them for us.'
    Skinner
tapped the pile of papers on the desk. 'There may well turn out to be bugger
all in these too, but we'll still have to go through them.' He turned back to
Rose. 'This is something your old man could do, Mags. If Alec hung on to any of
his old SB contacts, Mario might recognise the names.
    'Arthur,
you'd better go for a walk on the beach now. DC Ghosh, you're excused too. The
front-line officers are going to have to look at that video now.' Dorward and
his assistant looked at him gratefully and headed for the exit. For a moment,
Skinner thought about following them; instead he switched on the monitor,
picked up the camera, found the 'play' button and pressed it. Rose and Steele
crossed the room to stand between him and Martin.
    For
around ten seconds a scrambled image appeared on the screen, until it turned to
black. Then gradually a picture appeared; Alec Smith, hanging, naked, from his hook.
His mouth was covered by the brown tape, but his eyes were blazing with fury.
Skinner used the remote to turn up the volume, and the room filled with the
sound of the trussed-up ex-detective cursing unintelligibly behind his gag.
    'No
blood,' said Martin. 'The head wounds aren't there at this stage. So how the
hell did they get him up there?'
    Suddenly,
out of shot, they heard a click, followed by a soft hiss, which mutated into a
husky roar. As they watched the look in Smith's eyes changed from belligerence
to terror, as the nozzle of a blowtorch appeared in shot.
    'The
same person.' Rose's voice was almost matter-of-fact, but a slight tremor gave
away her horror. 'It's the same person holding both the camera and the
blowlamp.'
    'Look
for shadows,' Martin whispered. 'Anything, any sign of anyone else coming into
shot.'
    But
all they saw was a hand in a red rubber glove, with a long cuff,