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'His rank carries with it an extra degree of respect; if he's Bob Skinner it makes him a demiG.o.d.'
Although he could not see it, she smiled at him. 'And to think he told me you were the least impressionable man he knows.'
'Maybe he's right; but he's the exception, although it would embarra.s.s him to know it. I'm not alone. Bob's greatness is that although he's the most natural leader any of us who work with him have ever met, he's also a man of the people.
'That's what the word police means, you know, if you trace it back to its root. Linguistically, policemen and politicians are both the same thing .. .
men of the people. Now isn't that b.l.o.o.d.y ironic; how a single root could have produced such different fruits.'
'The twain never meet?''Not quite. Chief Officers have to live with politicians, so they have to acquire some of their skills. Proud Jimmy ... Sir James Proud . . . our Chief, has them under his thumb, and Mr Chase, our new ACC, is that sort of animal too. But a police officer with a politician's duplicity... now he'd be a dangerous man.'
'What about Bob?'
'He hates them. He'd drown the b.u.g.g.e.rs at birth. The irony is that he used to work for them, as an adviser, but one Secretary of State let him down. He walked away from that job and he's never forgiven the man sifice.'
'Is that politician still in office?'
'No. You don't want to get on the boss's wrong side. That's the irony, you see; he hates politicians, yet he's hugely influential himself. He's come to realise that, too.'
'Maybe he should become a politician himself, then,' Louise suggested.
'New blood to change the breed. You're right; I travel internationally, and it's the same everywhere I go. Politicians have become so ideologically inbred that you can't tell them apart.'
Neil shuddered. 'Don't wish that on him, please. If Bob Skinner ever went into politics he'd be like Julius b.l.o.o.d.y Caesar. He'd frighten the weak and the venal among his enemies so much that eventually they'd pluck up the courage to kill him. Some of the old-guard lefties on the Police Board have tried already, metaphorically.'
She chuckled at his reaction. 'Okay, I withdraw that wish.'
They drove on in silence for a while. There was a new moon, but the night was clear and crisp. Out on the Firth of Forth, lights shone on several moored tankers and rigs.
'Hey,' exclaimed Louise suddenly, 'you didn't answer my question. What do you do in Bob's team?'
Tm his exec.; his ADC, his personal a.s.sistant. Andy Martin, the Head of CID, calls me his Vicar on Earth.'
'So you'll know where all the bodies are buried, then.'
'Those that I don't know about, I don't want to know about.'
'Did he tell you about the trouble in London last Friday night?'
'I know about that.'
'Was there an aftermath? He mentioned something on the way out.'
Neil detected an underlying concern in her question. 'There was, but it lasted about two minutes. A high-ranker in the Met did something very100.AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.
stupid; he doubted my boss's judgement, and worse, his word. He won't do that again.
'Let me guess,' he went on, looking across at her. 'You're blaming yourself for letting him stick you in a taxi and get you out of there before the police turned up?'
'Sort of.'
'Well don't. He doesn't use his position very often, but when he does, it's for the right reasons. In this case, he made you disappear to protect you from the possibility of unwanted publicity . . . and to protect Sarah, as well.'
Louise nodded. 'I understand that now. She's a stunner, isn't she? And those children are lovely.'
'All children are lovely,' Mcllhenney murmured, in the dark. 'Even those that ain't.'
'How many do you have?' she asked.
'Two. Lauren and Spencer. Lauren's eleven, going on twenty, Spencer is nine, going on ten. How about you? Do you have children?'
'No. I've never been in one place, or one marriage, long enough. The up-side is that... apart from one time, about twenty-five years ago ... I've never stayed long enough to get really hurt, either.'
She sighed in the dark. 'G.o.d, I shouldn't have said that, should I; not to you.'
'It's okay. Honestly, no one can say anything that'll make it hurt any worse than it does already. It's better when people don't walk on eggsh.e.l.ls around you. I'm just younger than the average widower or widow, that's all. You know what? I sat in the church during Olive's service, and I thought of all the couples gathered round me, and I realised that one out of every pair will sit in a front-row seat at a funeral one day.
'It's part of the deal. If it's a good marriage, the hurt is a cross worth bearing, even though you might be selfish enough to wish that she was the one left to bear it.
'So really, don't feel awkward or sorry for me, Louise. Envy me, if you like, but don't pity me.'
Spontaneously, she reached out and squeezed his arm. 'Sorry,' she said.
T mean . . .' They laughed, in harmony.
'Jesus Christ,' she exclaimed, suddenly sounding more Glaswegian.
'What a b.l.o.o.d.y evening. I haven't had a deep conversation with a man in five years or more, and here I've had two in one night.'AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN.'I'd better just shut up, then.'
For a moment she thought he was being serious. 'Oh no,' she said, quickly.
'Don't do that. I like talking to you. I like meeting someone who isn't impressed by who I am or what I do.'
'Who said I wasn't? You're a Scottish heroine, Louise, right up there with Connery ... even if you are about forty years younger.'
That's very gallant of you, sir, but actually I'm just under thirty years younger. How old are you?'
'Pushing forty ... hard!'
'Don't worry about it; it's no big deal. In fact I find it better to think of myself as being in my early forties, than in my late thirties.'
Til bear that in mind. The truth is the only age ambition I have is to stick around long enough to see the kids through university. After that, I can keep my date any time.'
'Your date?'
'I had a dream a few weeks . . . after. It was about a grey bridge. Olive was on the other side, I was able to see her but I couldn't cross, not then.'
He broke off. 'Sorry. This is getting heavy again.'
'Hey,' she said. 'Not having to say sorry cuts both ways you know. You don't need to worry about what you say to me either. I get fan mail, Neil.
People tell me all sort of things; some of them would break your heart, but I still read them.'
He smiled across at her. 'You're quite a lady, Louise ... for an actress.'
'And you're quite a bloke ... for a copper. You must have some interrogation technique .. . just like Bob's, I suppose.'