Skinner's Rules Read Free Page B

that. The fact is that Mortimer was very good. He’s still a junior, but he’s led for the defence in one or two quite big cases, and given the Crown a good stuffing in the process. I can think of a couple of Glasgow villains who would be doing serious time right now, but for Mike Mortimer. But do you really think that the perpetrator knew him? At 4.00 a.m., down a close, wasn’t this just a random madman?’
    Skinner nodded. ‘In all probability that’s exactly what it was. But one thing bothers me. The animal got away without leaving a single pawprint behind him, yet he tossed away this huge bloody bayonet where we’d be sure to find it. Still, you’re right. Chances are it’s a nutter. I only hope that he doesn’t get the taste for it!’
    ‘Indeed, Bob, indeed!’
    The big detective stood up, towering over Murray. He was six years younger than the Dean, but at that moment he felt much older.
    ‘Look, David, can I have your permission to talk to Mortimer’s clerk, and to check on past and current instructions? Just to cover all possibilities.’
    ‘Of course. Carry on whenever you wish. In the meantime, I’d better put a notice up in a public place. All your people across the way will have drawn attention, as will the closure of the Close. Gossip spreads like flame here, so I’d better let the troops know the bad news as soon as possible.’
    The two shook hands, and Skinner left the Library. He walked back across the street, to the mouth of the Close. A group of journalists and photographers had gathered. They crowded round him as he approached, thrusting tiny tape recorders under his nose. A television camera and hand-lamp were trained upon him.
    ‘Any statement yet, Mr Skinner?’
    ‘Any ID on the victim, Bob?’
    He held up his hand to silence the clamour. No point in delaying, he thought. He had always been willing to talk to the media, and this had won him their respect and their trust. It had also brought him the highest public profile of any detective in Scotland.
    ‘Okay, gentlemen ... oh, yes, and okay, Joan ...’ he began, spotting the Scottish Television reporter beside her camera crew.
    ‘At around 5.30 this morning, two police officers discovered the body of a man in Advocates’ Close. It was quite obvious that he had met a violent death, and a murder investigation is now under way.
    ‘The victim has been identified, but the name will be withheld until next of kin have been informed. Once that has been done I will make a further statement.’
    Alan McQueen of the Daily Record was first with a question. ‘Have you found a weapon, Bob?’
    ‘We have found something near the scene which could well be the murder weapon. We are talking here about severe wounds caused by a sharp-edged weapon. That’s all I can say for now. Thank you all.’
    He turned away and was about to enter the Close, when McQueen put a hand lightly on his arm. ‘Any more you can tell us off the record, Bob?’
    Skinner stopped and turned back. As he did so all of the tape recorders were switched off and pocketed, the television hand-lamp was extinguished and the camera was lowered from its operator’s shoulder.
    He was silent for a few moments, as if choosing his words. Then he looked at McQueen directly. ‘Without quoting anyone, you can say this: senior police officers are agreed that this is one of the most brutal killings they have ever seen.
    ‘You can say, too, that police are anxious to speak to anyone who may have seen a person in the High Street, Cockburn Street, or Market Street area between say 3.30 a.m. and 4.30 a.m., with what might have been blood on his clothing. I don’t want to alarm the public at this stage, but want this bastard caught and bloody quick, so any help you can give me in putting that word about will be much appreciated.’
    ‘Any hint on the victim?’
    ‘Male, aged thirties, unmarried. We should have broken the news to his parents and his girlfriend within the hour, so check with