'How are we doing, Andy?' asked Skinner from the door of Martin's office. He had just returned from Edinburgh Airport, where he had put Pam on the 11 a.m. flight to London, bound for M15 with the original of Mark McGrath's horrific taped message.
'Just about there. Strathclyde cal ed back a couple of minutes ago.
I'm only waiting for Fife.'
'The buggers over there are probably al on the golf course,' the DCC growled. But he had barely spoken before the telephone rang.
'None?' he heard Martin say. 'You sure? Yes, okay, that's fine.
Thanks.'
He hung up and looked across at Skinner. 'They only have five MPs. One's a bachelor, another's newly married, a third's getting on a bit, and so on; end result zero. So no additions to my list.'
He picked up a sheet of paper from the desk. 'Seventy-two Scottish MPs, and only nine of them with children under twelve.
Twenty-five others have teenagers, but let's discount them, for now at least.'
He handed the list to Skinner, who barely glanced at it. 'How do we go about this?' he mused. 'It's pure speculation on our part. If we act on it, and give them all protection, it'll cost a fortune, and probably start a parliamentary panic.'
'I agree,' said Martin, 'but given the threat on that tape, it's speculation we can't ignore. Look, why don't we ask Special Branch offices to make quiet contact with all the names on our list, to advise them to keep their kids under constant observation, and to offer them protection if they want it?'
'Good idea. Let's play it that way. You brief Mario McGuire and have him make the calls.' He turned to the list once more. 'Let's see who's here, then.'
He had only just begun to read, and Martin was reaching for his telephone, when it rang. Frowning with momentary annoyance, the Chief Superintendent picked it up.
'Mario,' he said, surprised. 'I was just going to call you.' He fell silent as a look of pure horror crossed his face. 'Oh no,' Skinner heard him gasp. 'Get down there, now,' he snapped. 'The boss and I will meet you there.'
He slammed the phone back into its cradle. 'Let's have it then,' said the DCC quietly
'See that speculation of ours?' the younger man replied, hunching his shoulders and clasping his hands together. 'I think it's suddenly turned into fact. There's just been a shooting in Abercromby Place.
The victim is a Mrs Anderson.
'Mario thinks that it's the Secretary of State's wife.'