The Skeleton Road Read Online Free PDF

grade, so make of that what you will. Put it this way, Alan. He’s not one of us. You’ll never find him down the Bay Horse on a Friday night.’
    ‘So he’s not coming over to give us a pat on the back and say, “As you were, chaps.”’
    ‘Word is he’s looking for so-called austerity cuts. Which is spelled c-u-l-l. Watch your back, Alan.’
    And so Macanespie, card marked, had determined that he wasn’t going to be the lamb to the slaughter. Welsh lamb, that was a much better option. He’d be the ginger pig, tusks flashing danger signs at anyone who thought he was a pushover. He’d arrived in good time and to Theo Proctor’s astonishment, he set about clearing his desk and tidying his end of the office.
    ‘You trying to be teacher’s pet, then?’ Proctor demanded.
    ‘I just looked at this place through somebody else’s eyes and decided it didn’t need to be a pigsty,’ he said, grabbing three dirty mugs and popping them into his bottom drawer. Proctor, clearly uneasy, began straightening files and papers on his desk.
    Before he’d made much impression, one of the canteen staff came in with a Thermos jug and a single cup. She consulted a piece of paper. ‘Which one of you is Wilson Cagney?’
    ‘He’s not here yet, love. And you need two more cups.’ Proctor always managed to sound an officious prick, Macanespie thought.
    ‘No, I don’t.’ She waved the paper at him. ‘Look: “Order for Wilson Cagney. Black coffee for one.” Can one of you sign for it?’
    ‘I don’t see why I should sign for it if I’m not getting to drink it,’ Proctor grumbled.
    ‘Give it here,’ Macanespie said, scribbling his signature on the bottom of the sheet. ‘We’ll not drink it, I promise.’ When she left, he unscrewed the top and inhaled. ‘Aye, that’s the good stuff,’ he said.
    ‘For crying out loud, Alan, close it up. He’ll smell it.’ Proctor looked panicked, but Macanespie just curled his lip in a sneer as he closed the jug.
    Five minutes later, a tall black man in an immaculate charcoal pinstripe suit walked in without knocking. His hair was cut close, emphasising his narrow head and surprisingly delicate features. ‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ he said, then poured himself a coffee from the Thermos jug. He glanced briefly at them both then gestured with his cup at Proctor. ‘You must be Proctor.’ Theo nodded. Cagney looked pleased with himself. ‘Which makes you Macanespie.’ This time there was a faint note of distaste in his voice.
    Cagney sat down and hitched his trousers at the knee before he crossed his legs. ‘I imagine you know why I’m here?’
    ‘You’re Selina Bryson’s replacement,’ Macanespie said. ‘Making a tour of the front-line staff.’ He smiled, instantly worrying that he was showing too many teeth in a display of nerves.
    Cagney inclined his head. ‘Right. And also wrong. It’s true that I’ve taken over from Selina. But I’m not here to press the flesh and tell you all what a sterling job you’re doing. Because in the case of you two, you’re not.’
    Proctor flushed, a dark plum stain spreading upwards from his bright white shirt collar. ‘We’re one small part of a big operation here. You can’t blame us for everything that’s gone wrong.’
    Cagney sipped his coffee, clearly savouring it. ‘The UK government is committed to the concept of international law. That’s the main reason we supported the UN in the formation of the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia. It’s why we seconded people like you to work with the tribunal. Everybody knows it’s going to wind up at the end of this year, so we’re all drinking in the last-chance saloon. And some people aren’t happy about that. Would you say that was a fair assessment of the situation?’
    Macanespie hung back, waiting to see which way his colleague would jump. Proctor stuck his chin out, his expression belligerent. ‘A tribunal like this is never going to manage to