Private Investigations - Quintin Jardine Page 0,42

how can the Scottish Police Service help the Ministry of Defence?’

‘You can give me an update,’ Blackett replied, ‘on a situation that may affect one of our serving officers; his name is Lieutenant David Gates.’

‘Never heard of . . .’ McGuire began, stopping as the surname flipped a switch in his memory. Simultaneously, he guessed correctly what Sammy Pye’s problem had been. ‘Wait a minute, Gates, you said?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Do you have a home address for Lieutenant Gates?’

‘I see from his file that he lives in a place called Garvald, in East Lothian, Scotland, when he’s not on service.’

‘What else does that file tell you?’

‘That his next of kin is his partner, a Ms Regal, and that they have one child, aged five.’ The man gave a short impatient snort. ‘Thing is, Mr McGuire, earlier today a young lady from your outfit, Detective Constable Wright, managed to get herself put through to me, not once but twice. On each occasion she more or less demanded that she be put in contact with Gates. She even hinted that she would go to one of our ministers, a Scots MP, if necessary.’

‘Are you calling me to complain that she was rude?’ the DCC exclaimed.

‘No, no. The young lady was perfectly civil, but she was insistent that she had to speak to him at once. I’m afraid that I was equally insistent that she couldn’t, as he’s operational. I asked her what it was about, but she declined to tell me. We left it that Gates would be asked to contact her as soon as that is practically possible.’

‘I see.’ McGuire saw that he was approaching a lay-by on the single carriageway; he pulled into it, off the highway. ‘I can understand DC Wright’s reticence, Captain,’ he continued. ‘She was following protocol, that was all. Equally, I can understand that you have your operating procedures too.’

‘I thought you might,’ Blackett murmured. ‘Thing is,’ he went on, ‘this has been preying on me. I feel I need to know anything that affects Gates.’

‘Which led you to jump the command chain and go straight to the chief, and through him to me?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you’re not going to tell me why?’

‘I don’t believe I’m allowed to, sir.’

‘In that case, I’ll do some guessing. I’ll speculate that you can’t let us speak to Gates because you can’t speak to him yourself. That suggests to me that he’s either an intelligence officer, in the field, or that he’s in an operational situation that prevents communications. Force me to choose between those and I’ll guess that he’s on a nuclear sub, since their locations are just about the biggest military secret we have.’ He chuckled. ‘If you like you can cough once for yes, twice for no.’

The car was silent for a few seconds. Then the sound of a single forced cough came through the speakers.

‘In that case,’ McGuire said, ‘I’ll share something with you. The news we have for Lieutenant Gates is very bad. This morning his partner and daughter were attacked on a lonely road on their way to the local primary school. When our people arrived they found only Ms Regal; their assumption was that it was a hit-and-run. Not long afterwards the child’s body was found in the boot of a stolen car that was involved in an accident, twenty miles away.’

‘My God,’ the captain gasped. ‘What are you saying to me?’

‘Nothing definite, only an assumption: that the abduction of the child was the purpose of the attack. I’ve just heard the autopsy findings: she died from an acute asthmatic attack. She wasn’t harmed in any other way.’

‘Have you arrested anyone?’

‘Not yet, but my officers tell me they have a prime suspect.’

‘What was the motive for the attack?’ Blackett asked. ‘Ransom?’

‘We’re not there yet,’ McGuire told him. ‘We have to catch our suspect first and see what he can tell us. You’ll understand that I’m not connected with the investigation at ground level. I don’t have all the detail.’

‘I appreciate that. Sir . . .’ The captain stopped, as if he was taking time to choose his words. ‘Might I suggest that you consider another motive, that this awful crime might be aimed at Lieutenant Gates because of what he does?’

‘I’m considering that already, chum. But it’s not at the top of my list. If Gates’s job is so bloody secret that you can’t tell him his kid is dead until he’s, he’s . . . non-operational, how is anybody likely to know about it to target

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