They were in her office; she held a mug of coffee in a meaty hand, he held a can of diet Irn Bru. ‘I think,’ she began, ‘that I accept his story about the fancy dress. Okay, he knew he was being spun a line, and that he chose not to ask questions, but I don’t believe that Scott Mann would knowingly be a part of any conspiracy to murder, or that if we charged him with that, we’d get a conviction. ‘However, we can tie him to those uniforms beyond reasonable doubt, so he’s not walking away. I would propose that we charge him with theft, and his girlfriend, assuming we do get her DNA from the packaging. We’ll get guilty pleas for sure, I could read it in Viola Murphy’s dark Satanic eyes.’ The chief gave a small nod. ‘I agree with that. What about McGlashan? Do we let her resign quietly or do the full disciplinary thing?’ ‘Formal,’ Gorman replied, without hesitation. ‘If I could I’d put her in the public stocks in George Square.’ Skinner laughed. ‘I once suggested to my soon to be ex-wife that her party should propose that as a way of dealing with Glasgow’s Ned hooligan problem.
