Autographs In The Rain Part 19

'Okay. He'd better check with his GP and with the local pharmacies, to find out who prescribed or dispensed such a strong sedative, and why. And here's something the clever lad's missed. He should also ask Dr McCallum to repeat her a.n.a.lysis of the stomach contents, because she reports no temazepam residue there.

'However, she has a reputation for being very efficient, so I'm sure a second check will come up with the same result.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning that the drug was injected. You can forget examining the body for puncture marks; they'll be long gone. But there can be no other conclusion. I take it that no hypodermic syringe was found in the house.'

He took her meaning at once, and gave a soft whistle. 'There's no mention of that in the papers I've read. It wouldn't have been left out either; it would have hit Mackenzie right between the eyes.'

'In that case, even though it'll still be d.a.m.n near impossible to prove homicide at the end of the day, the inspector's investigation is still up and running.

'However, what he should be looking at first and foremost is the possibility that this old man was a temazepam junkie, and that someone. . .

maybe Ruth's lookalike ... was feeding his habit.'

Skinner's scowl was thunderous. 'And stripping his a.s.sets in the process.

In which case it's a good bet that when they'd bled him dry of cash, they simply killed the poor old sod.''Honest to G.o.d,' Sammy Pye murmured. 'Women are unpredictable creatures; and you more so than any other I've ever met. Yesterday this Mackenzie had horns and a tail. Today he's not such a bad bloke.'

She laughed softly; it sounded in his ear like the tinkling of a small bell.

'That's the power of Bob Skinner. I don't know what the boss said to him, but it had a dramatic effect. He couldn't have been more considerate, really.'

'What about that torn-faced witch of a sergeant of his? Was she there?'

'No. He said she was out pounding pavements. You're being too hard on her; she might have looked severe, but she was taking her lead from Mackenzie. All she did in the interview room, more or less, was nod her head when he expected it.'

'So what did you find in your uncle's house?'

'Nothing. Somehow or other, he's managed to dispose of all of his a.s.sets, save the house itself. On what, G.o.d alone knows.'

'Is Mackenzie still convinced that he was murdered?'

'Yes. And so is Mr Skinner. He's taking a personal interest in the investigation; on my behalf, I suppose.'

That's nice of him.'

'Ah, but I think it's professional too. He's fascinated by it, I think. His nose has started twitching. When he starts to follow it, anything can happen.'

'Wait till he gets a whiff of Dan Pringle's first big case down in the Borders. That should stir his imagination.'

'Why? What does that involve?'

'A couple of ton of farmed trout; missing, presumed dead.'

She beamed as she made a connection. 'So that's what Mackenzie meant yesterday. At the start of the interview he made some crack about fish rustling. At the time I thought he was loopy.'

'No, he'd know about it all right. Dan's got an All Points Bulletin out on those trout.'

She laid a hand on his chest, smiling sadly as she leaned across and86.AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.kissed him. 'The lives we lead, Sammy, eh.'

He combed his fingers through her long hair, running their tips lightly down her naked back, drawing a gasp from her.

'Well, Sergeant,' she whispered. 'You've got me into bed again. What do we do now?'

'Let me show you.' He breathed the words in her ear as he eased her on to her back. They kissed, long and slow. She felt for him, down beneath the duvet, but he moved downwards out of her reach, licking her nipples lightly, left, right, left again.

'h.e.l.lo ladies,' he murmured, then slid further down her body. She cried out, a soft scream, as she felt his tongue again. 'G.o.d, Sammy,' she moaned.

'If I ever tell you to stop that, ignore me, please.'

She thrust her pelvis upwards, opening herself to his touch, writhing with it, until he slid back upwards and she could grasp him, big and rock hard, and guide him towards her, towards where she wanted him. She called out again, louder than before, as he entered her, bucking and heaving beneath him, surprising him with her strength, exultant as he matched her.

They were still breathing hard, lying there entwined, glowing with sweat and satisfaction, when the phone rang out, beside the bed. They looked at each other and laughed in unison.

'Let it ring,' he said.

'No, better answer it.'

He reached across her and picked up the instrument. 'Yes?' he began, still smiling, his tongue working to free a hair which had become trapped between his front teeth.

'Sure, sir,' he continued at last, forcing himself to speak evenly. 'She's right next to me.' Ruth's eyes widened as he pa.s.sed her the telephone. 'It's Mr Skinner. He's got some news for you.''Have we got any other crime on this patch apart from vanishing b.l.o.o.d.y trout?' Dan Pringle asked Detective Sergeant Jack McGurk.

'A farmer down Hawick way shot a dog that was worrying his sheep, sir,' his tall a.s.sistant replied. 'But other than that, that's it.'

'Shooting a dog's not a crime to a farmer.'

'I was talking about sheep-worrying, boss.'

The superintendent drew him a long look, and a half smile. 'You know, son, there's times I wish I'd left you in Edinburgh.'

'We've only been here for a week and a half, sir, but there's times when I wish you had too.'

'Listen,' said Pringle. 'When Big Bob and Andy Martin posted me down here, they said I could take my ten favourite records, one book, and a familiar object. The last one's you; end of story.' He laughed at the young sergeant's mock outrage. 'Ach, don't worry, Jack. There'll be plenty to do down here.

Up in the city, it was as if crime came to you; busy all the time. It's different here, with different styles of crime and maybe of criminal, but the basics are the same.

'Our good colleagues laugh at the notion offish rustling, but it's theft of property nonetheless. It's just as serious as a wages s.n.a.t.c.h, or a jewel robbery, or a housebreaking.

'Anyway, if there's one thing I've learned in the two centuries in which I've been a detective officer, it's never to complain when things are quiet, because sooner or later, they won't be. Don't you forget that the thing which drove John McGrigor to early retirement was the murder of his best friend in an armed robbery, right in the middle of this patch.'

McGurk winced. 'I suppose you're right, boss,' he conceded. 'Anyway, the fish are keeping us busy, up to a point, even if the chances are they're long gone from our patch. All the out-stations have finished the rounds of fish farms in their areas . . . and there's more of them than you'd imagine.

Some are just cottage industries, but there are a few as big as Mellerkirk.'88.AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.'What sort of fish do they farm?'

'Trout, boss, all of them. They're the only sort you can farm around

here.'

'What about salmon?'

'No,' said the sergeant, with a shake of his head. 'Salmon are farmed in salt water, in the West Coast sea lochs mostly, and in the fjords in Norway.

There are hatcheries on sh.o.r.e, but they're all close to the farm sites.'

'You seem to know a bit about this, Jack,' the superintendent remarked.