Free Lethal Intent by Quintin Jardine Page A

ruffled his hair. The duvet was folded back to his waist, and her eyes were drawn to a ragged scar on his side. 'What's that?' she asked.
    'That? It's where I was stabbed a few years back.'
    She touched his face above the nose. 'What about that? Who gave you that one?'
    'Big Lenny Plenderleith; he got plenty in return, though. I think that's how I earned his respect.' He grinned at her; there was a mischief in his eyes that she had never seen before. 'How many scars do you have, then?'
    She jumped off the bed, unfastened her trousers and pushed them down enough for him to see a faint line on her lower abdomen, to the right. 'Appendix,' she said, then fastened herself in again. 'When I was twelve. All the rest are on the inside.'
    'I'd like to heal those.'
    'Maybe you can't; maybe no one can. Just make sure you don't give me any more.'
    'I promise I won't do that. So talk: these things you mentioned, tell me them.'
    She drank some more coffee, then set down her mug. 'Okay,' she said, 'but first I've got a question for you. Did you know that Sir John Govan was being replaced as the First Minister's security adviser?'
    She could read the surprise on his face, so she knew his answer before he spoke it. 'No, I had no idea.'
    Aileen smiled. 'That's good. If you had, my next question was going to be "Why the hell didn't you tell me about it?" But you would have, wouldn't you?'
    'Of course, but I'd have expected you to be consulted.'
    That's not the way our First Minister works. Tommy wants his own man, not someone with anyone else's seal of approval. He made the appointment all on his own.'
    'So who is it?'
    'One of your guys, Mr Jay.'
    Bob sat bolt upright in bed, forgetting that he was naked. 'Greg Jay? You're joking.'
    'You'll find I'm not, when you get to your office. He's full-time in post as of yesterday. But he was active before that, as I know to my cost. After our bust-up on Sunday, Murtagh had him monitor my telephone calls. He knows I called you in Florida; he knows you leaked the story to the press. He's threatened to ruin you if you don't behave, and to boot me out of the Cabinet in disgrace if I don't fall into line and go along with his plans.'
    'Has he now?' Skinner growled. 'Let's see him try. It doesn't take a genius to guess who was behind the story, but let him prove it. You could stick John Hunter in the High Court and have a judge order him to reveal a source on pain of jail, and he wouldn't. If Greg Jay tried to interrogate him, he'd laugh in his face.'
    'Couldn't he check your phone calls from the hotel?'
    'He'd need the FBI's help, and it's no cert he'd get it; but even if he did he'd come up dry. I used Sarah's American cell-phone to call John, and he knows nothing about that'
    'Don't underestimate him. He knows a lot about us. That's why I came to pick you up this morning; it's why I wouldn't speak to you on the phone yesterday. I was afraid that someone would be listening.'
    'What does he know, exactly?'
    She repeated everything that Murtagh had told her about their meetings, about the Arts Club, her Edinburgh flat, the Open Arms Hotel. 'Jay must have been tailing us all along, or me at least.'
    Bob took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. 'No,' he said, quietly. 'I'd have known if he was doing that. He didn't follow anyone unseen, not me at any rate; he's not that good, and I'd have known if he had used any serving officer for the job. Somebody told him about those meetings.'
    'But who could have?'
    'Work it out. It wasn't me, so that leaves only one person.'
    Aileen's brow knitted into a frown. 'No, it couldn't be; she wouldn't.'
    'Lena McElhone isn't your personal secretary, love. She's your private secretary and that's different. She's a civil servant: if she was leaned on by the First Minister or his stooge, she'd have a career choice to make. I wouldn't blame her, but I'd be careful what I let her know in future, other than your official business.'
    'Those bastards!' She spat the words out. 'I can