Detective Chief Superintendent Martin was seated at his desk as Skinner rapped on his door and burst into the room. Detective Constable Sammy Pye, with his back to the door, looked over his shoulder and sprang to his feet.
'I'm just getting young Sammy started on that list you ordered, sir,' said the Head of CID.
'Good,' said Skinner, closing the door behind him, and waving Pye back to his seat, 'but put it on hold for now. Our Friends in the South have come up trumps. We know where the caller was when he phoned me, and you're not going to believe it. The cheeky bastard was within a quarter of a mile of my bloody house!'
Martin's eyebrows rose. 'You what?' he gasped, incredulously.
'That's right. The background noise gave him away. From what I've been told, my guess is that he cal ed from the phone box outside the Post Office, across the road from the pub. However we can't be certain of that. Chief Superintendent, I want to know, from British Telecom, the location of every telephone in Gullane that was used at ten fifty last Saturday night, and I want every one of those subscribers checked out.'
He paused. 'I can't believe that the guy would actual y hide Mark in my home vil age, but it's the first lead we've had and it must be fol owed. Unless we turn up something from the telephone check, I want a house-by-house check of the whole place. You can leave mine out, but I want every other door in that village knocked.'
'What are we looking for?'
'We're looking for a lucky break, Andy.'
The Head of CID grunted assent. 'Yes, like the guy stil being around. It beggars belief, though, to think that he actually lives there.'
'Sure, I agree. But he phoned from there. It's not beyond belief that he might be hiding out there. Remember, there are stil weekend cottages and holiday homes in Gul ane… my own among them, til recently at any rate.'
'Do we know which they are?'
'A few, through Neighbourhood Watch, but not al, not by any means. Quite a few are just left from one visit to the next. Some have private caretaking arrangements.'
'How do you want to play it? What line should our officers take with the householders when they knock their doors? These people are your neighbours, after al.'
Skinner pondered the question for a while. 'Simple is best,' he said. 'Let's have them say that we're extending our enquiries out from Edinburgh. Ask each occupier if he's seen anything out of the ordinary in the area, and ask those with substantial outbuildings – and there are some; you've seen them, up the Hill – whether they've checked them lately.
'Where a house is unoccupied, see if the neighbours know anything about the owner.'
Martin nodded. 'Let's think carefully about all this,' he said. 'We've got an advantage, here. Our man can't know that we're on to the fact that he called from Gullane. We want to keep that information secret for as long as we can.'
'Fine. In that case let's keep it literally to ourselves. Other than you, me, and our staffs, the people doing the rounds can simply be told what we've just decided to tell the punters; that the search is being widened. They'l be al the more convincing if they don't know any different themselves.
'You'l need more leg-power for al this, so you'd better mobilise Brian Mackie and Maggie Rose. All of a sudden this investigation has spilled over into their area.' Skinner nodded to himself, as if in satisfaction. 'How quickly can you get it done?'
'It'll be done within forty-eight hours.'
'Quicker, if you can. Start today. While that's happening, there's something else we should do. I want officers in all five pubs and hotel bars in Gul ane this evening, checking on everyone who was out for a bevvy on Saturday.
'Someone may have seen our man in the phone box, and may be able to give us a description.' He paused. 'We'll need a cover story for that too. Tell our troops that we're looking for someone who's been using the box to make obscene phone cal s. Christ,' he added grimly, 'that's true, in a way.'
Skinner turned to leave. 'There'll be another line of investigation to be fol owed up also,' he said, 'but I can't do anything about that until a certain tape arrives from London.'
He opened the door, then stopped, and spun round to face Martin and Pye again. 'Call box. Coins. Sammy, get on to Telecom and have them empty the cash from that phone box. You never know, maybe my cal er left a thumbprint on a ten-pence piece that'll help us put a name to his voice.'