It’s hard
to believe that Quintin Jardine’s Bob Skinner detective series reaches 31, in
November.
Scotsman
Jardine first introduced his Edinburgh Policeman in 1993, with Skinner’s Rules.
So what’s
in store for Bob Skinner in THE BAD FIRE?
Nine years ago, divorcee
Marcia Brown took her own life. A pillar of the community, she had been accused
of theft, and it’s assumed that she was unable to live with the shame. Now her
former husband wants the case reopened. Marcia was framed, he says, to prevent
her exposing a scandal. He wants justice for Marcia. And Alex Skinner,
Solicitor Advocate, and daughter of retired Chief Constable Sir Robert Skinner,
has taken on the brief, aided by her investigator Carrie McDaniels.
When tragedy strikes and his daughter comes under threat, Skinner steps in. His quarry is about to discover that the road to hell is marked by bad intentions . . .
When tragedy strikes and his daughter comes under threat, Skinner steps in. His quarry is about to discover that the road to hell is marked by bad intentions . . .
We’re
delighted to provide Shots Reader’s an exclusive extract, the opening of THE
BAD FIRE
EXTRACT:
Chapter One
By Scottish standards, it was
an unusual summer. It had survived the first fortnight in May, continued into
June, and was threatening to extend into July. Edinburgh’s city-centre shoppers
were sweltering, the nation’s golf courses were turning brown in spite of their
automatic watering systems and beach car parks were earning a small fortune for
local councils all around the country.
‘Get you,’ June Crampsey laughed,
as Bob Skinner walked past the open door of her office on the way to his own, dressed
in shorts, sandals and a close-fitting blue T-shirt. ‘Not even the directors of
our parent company in Spain dress like that. Nice legs, by the way,’ she added.
‘I don’t recall ever seeing them before.’ He paused. ‘Don’t you start,’ he
replied. ‘Trish, the kids’ carer, said I look like the guy from Baywatch.’
‘Which version? David Hasselhoff or
Dwayne Johnson?’
‘I like to think she meant the
younger one.’
‘Could you do me a selfie?’ the
managing editor of the Saltire newspaper asked. ‘I’m thinking of doing a
photo feature in the next Sunday edition on unusual office attire. ’‘This
doesn’t count as an office day for me; I was here all day yesterday, remember,
Sunday or not, talking to Spain about the UK expansion programme. Sarah’s car’s
had a recall, so I drove her to work, then thought I’d come in to check my
mail.’
She looked at him afresh. ‘I don’t
see room for a phone in that skimpy outfit.’
‘Left it at home, didn’t I? The
heat must be getting to me, for I’m finding that I quite like being out of
touch, from time to time. I don’t think I have been in years, since even before
we all started carrying mobiles, or had them wired into our cars.’
‘That explains why your daughter
was up here looking for you half an hour back. She asked if you’d call in on
her if you showed up.’
‘I thought she was due in the high
court this morning.’
‘The trial’s been postponed, she
said. The prosecution have offered her client a plea deal.’
Skinner chuckled. ‘Which means that
the Crown Office doesn’t think it can get a conviction. Okay, I’ll go down and see
her.’
‘Don’t forget that selfie,’ she
called after him.
He stepped into his own office;
unlike that of his colleague, it looked towards the morning sun. The high-rise
block was faced in glass that was meant to be heat-reflecting. It seemed to be
doing its job, although the air-conditioning system was working full blast,
ruffling the correspondence in his in-tray. Skinner was a part-time executive
director of InterMedia, a family-owned company that was the proprietor of the Saltire,
as well as titles and radio stations across Spain and Italy. He had been
doubtful about the post when it had been offered by his friend Xavi Aislado.
After a career in the police service, it had been a radical departure, but he
had been persuaded – not least by the substantial salary – to give it a go. To
his surprise he had risen to the challenge, to the extent that while his contract
specified one day a week, he spent at least three in his office, and had become
effectively the managing director of the Saltire, as the board’s British
presence.
He spent fifteen minutes reviewing
his mail, physical and electronic, and acting on it where urgency was required,
then headed for the stairs that led to the office suite he had secured for his
daughter as her legal practice grew to the point where it could no longer be
run from home or from a law library.
‘Bloody hell!’ Alexis Skinner
laughed as her father appeared in her doorway. ‘Why didn’t you just put on
budgie-smugglers and be done with it?’
Continue reading THE BAD FIRE by QUINTIN
JARDINE from Headline Publishing [available 14th November 2019]
More information available HERE
Text Credit © 2019 Quintin Jardine
Photo Credit © 2019 Chris Close and
© 2019 Headline Publishing
Shots Magazine pass thanks to
Rosie Margesson of Headline Publishing for providing our readers an exclusive look
at the latest Bob Skinner thriller.
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