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Detective Chief Superintendent Malcolm Munroe came up to her, stiff in his dress uniform. ‘Shona, good to see you. Bit of a carry-on, this.’ He sniffed over his ginger ale. ‘Money better spent elsewhere,’ he added, indicating a loud group at the free bar. Shona was mortified to see Rob among them.
‘A high profile initiative with the business community to cut crime must be a good thing, sir.’ She guided Munroe to a quieter spot away from the bar
. ‘I hear you’re retiring soon.’
‘Yes, I’ve done my bit. It would be good to go out on a high, leave a legacy.’ He nodded. ‘You did well with Op Fortress, I hear. I did the right thing putting you in charge in Dumfries,’ he congratulated himself. ‘Do you miss London at all?’
‘Not at all,’ Shona assured him.
‘Keep in touch with your old boss, DSU Harry Delfont?’
‘No,’ said Shona evenly. Why was Munroe asking that? Delfont had given her a glowing reference only because he wanted her out. ‘We never had that much in common.’
‘So, liking it in Dumfries? Land of Robert Burns. A fine part of the world.’ Munroe looked like he was winding up to deliver a sample of Scotland’s national poet when there was an announcement over the PA and Kenny Hanlon bounded onto the stage to a roar of applause.
In the manner of a TV evangelist, Hanlon greeted a stream of celebrities, business leaders and senior police officers who pledged their commitment to the project. After a carefully choreographed ten minutes, the TV cameras were finished, and it was the turn of the photographers. Various combinations of people were corralled onto stage, officers lining up to have their picture taken with celebrities. Even Munroe was caught in a burst of flashlight like a rabbit in the headlights, a fixed grin on his face as he gripped Kenny Hanlon’s hand. She should find Rob and escape before they came for her. Hanlon’s jovial face beamed from the stage but as the cameras turned away and the lights dimmed his resting expression seemed to her to have a reptilian edge, the yellow eyes a predatory watchfulness.
When she finally located Rob at a corner table strewn with empty glasses he put up only a brief resistance. He shook hands with his old university friends with promises to keep in touch and followed her unsteadily towards the foyer. They were almost at the door when The Enterpriser himself stepped in front of them.
With the show over, Hanlon also appeared to have been sampling his own hospitality. Shona sidestepped his attempt to drape an arm around her shoulder. ‘Oh, you’re not going now?’ He stuck out his bottom lip.
‘So sorry.’ She smiled regretfully. ‘Our daughter’s expecting us home and we have guests arriving tomorrow and… business is business.’ She winked in a fair impression of The Enterpriser’s opening titles.
‘Ha.’ Hanlon laughed, obviously delighted with this homage to his brand. ‘What a cherub you are. Oh, you must stay.’ Shona managed to duck an attempt to take her face in his meaty hands.
Shona smiled through gritted teeth. She linked Rob’s arm firmly. He had a look of bemused amiability on his face, having lost the thread of conversation a while back, but everyone seemed to be having fun. ‘Cheers, big man,’ he called boozily to Hanlon as Shona pulled him away.
They were heading towards the car park when Rob looked her up and down and said, ‘Where’s your jacket?’ It was vintage Fendi and a present, too expensive to leave behind. Shona swore under her breath. ‘Want me to go back for it?’ he asked hopefully.
She raised her eyebrows at him and handed over the keys. ‘Nice try. You sit in the car, I’ll only be a minute.’
Shona retrieved her jacket. As she left the cloakroom she heard Hanlon’s booming laugh and stepped back into a dim alcove hoping he’d pass. An angled mirror was set in the opposite wall. The reflection showed Hanlon and Nicola Baird. He was exploring the intricacies of her dress and she was doing nothing to stop him. After a moment they moved away.
Shona was heading back down the empty corridor when Baird appeared. ‘That went well, didn’t it?’ he said, beaming.
‘Yes, sir,’ she said.
‘Gavin,’ he corrected her. ‘You know, Shona, two good results on the drugs.’ Baird bent closer to her, blocking her exit. ‘What a great team we are when we work together.’ His breath was hot against her ear. ‘You and I are not so different, both clawed our way up, learned to make deals to get what you need. I can make it worth your while.’ She could smell whisky on his breath. ‘Rob looks pretty out of it,’ he continued. Shona tried to take a step back, but he put out an arm to stop her. ‘The room’s booked. You could stay?’ Baird was standing close, staring down at her with a hungry expression. The corridor was dim and stuffy, but the prickling of sweat on her back had nothing to do with the heat. She felt a wave of nausea, then anger. The drugs hauls had been down to her and her team. Baird had had nothing to do with it and now he thought he deserved, what? Her gratitude? Her fawning admiration? Her compliance? Her body?
She took a step to the side, but he followed, moving closer. She glared at him. ‘Excuse me.’ He leaned forward, pressing his body against hers, grabbing her wrists, pinning her to the wall. She felt a sick wave of panic. Turning away as he tried to kiss her, she spied Nicola coming along the corridor towards them, a deep frown on her face. ‘I think your wife’s looking for you,’ she hissed at Baird as she prised herself free.
Why hadn’t she seen this coming? She and Munroe were probably the only sober people in the room. Letting herself be cornered by Baird was pathetic. She hoped Nicola tore him to shreds. Her hands were shaking, tears of anger and shame pricking at her eyes. She should have engaged her copper’s sixth sense, known what would happen. She was a fool. All she wanted to do was get back to Rob and go home.
As she reached the hotel entrance, Shona glanced back. Kenny Hanlon was talking to a frowning Baird. They looked at her keenly before Hanlon gave her a theatrical wave. As Shona turned and walked away, she had the distinct impression that both The Enterpriser and her boss were not nearly as drunk as they were making out.
Chapter 13
Despite the previous late night, and the fact it was Saturday, Shona arrived early for work the next morning in a well-cut dark grey suit and a lavender shirt. Murdo was already at his desk. She called him into her office and updated him on the prison visit with Gringo.
‘Thanks for coming in. This should only take a couple of hours,’ Shona said.
‘No worries. My weekend on call anyway. What d’you have in mind?’
‘We’re going to have a chat with Isla’s ex, Duncan Saltire. Do a background check on him first. Anything recent, firearms licence, the works. Don’t want any nasty surprises.’
‘You fancy him for the girl’s killing?’
Shona nodded. ‘Got to be in the frame. Saltire’s a proto-politician who believes he’s destined to lead. He has righteous anger and thinks he can get away with anything.’
