Dark Suits and Sad Songs (29 page)

Scott was up like a shot. ‘Right, come on. I’ll get Jim on the blower. We can pick him up on the way. We better draw weapons. This guy’s no’ exactly your run-o’-the-mill criminal.’

Rainsford rushed off, and Scott dialled Daley’s number – but the call went straight to voicemail. ‘Jim, where are you? This Abdic guy’s been positively ID’d at Firdale. We have tae be quick. Call me, now!’

Scott checked he had his cigarettes, then walked out of the office to find Sergeant Shaw handing out sidearms and bullet-proof vests. He stopped dead; suddenly his throat was dry and he felt his stomach protest. He tried to walk forward,
but his feet were leaden weights. He closed his eyes and sent a silent prayer heavenward.
Dear God, keep me safe, please keep me safe
. He opened his eyes to see Rainsford looming over him with a vest.

‘Quick, get this on. Where’s the boss?’

‘I cannae raise him. His phone just goes onto the message.’

‘We’ll try him again, but we can’t wait. Sergeant Shaw, try DCI Daley’s number, and keep trying until you get him.’ Rainsford sounded imperious as he barked out the order. Shaw hurried to the phone but after a few moments shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, indicating he’d had no luck.

‘Right, Brian, we’ll have to go without him. He can follow us when he gets back in.’

‘Aye, right, nae bother.’ He knew as the senior officer – in service, though equal in rank – he should be taking charge. His legs were shaking as he walked outside into the bright sunshine. He wished Daley would appear. He wished he had a drink.

Daley had been thrust into a SUV then blindfolded. Despite his protestations, the men who had taken him – both of whom were armed – said nothing. His hands had been bound with parcel ties, and he jolted against the door of the car as they drove. He listened carefully, trying to glean something about his whereabouts from noises outside the vehicle, but he could make out little apart from the sound of passing cars, and the low rumble of the road below.

The vehicle slowed, and then came to a stop. In a few moments it pulled away again, only much more slowly, the way a driver would negotiate a long driveway, or a narrow
road. In what Daley reckoned was just over five minutes, this slow journey came to an end. The man beside him opened his door and exited the vehicle. Daley frantically turned his head from side to side in a desperate attempt to orient himself. The door was tugged open and he nearly fell through it and onto the road.

‘Get out.’ A strong pair of hands grabbed him and pulled him from the car. Daley felt gravel beneath his feet. ‘Stop!’ one of his captors shouted.

Agonisingly, Daley stood still. He heard one of the men walking away; he didn’t know where the other man was, though some sense told him that there was a gun pointed at his vulnerable flesh and bone.

All was silent, apart from the buzz of insects, the cry of gulls, and what Daley thought was the distant sound of waves breaking on a beach. He wondered whether or not he would hear the shot that killed him, or if everything would suddenly go black, his world disappearing in a last glimpse of the violence that had shaped his life. He breathed deeply.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard a sudden movement from behind and, despite himself, recoiled in fear as he was pulled forward by his cuffed hands. The thick sole of his shoe caught the gravel and he tripped, managing to regain his stride after two or three staggered steps.

Soon he felt the ground change; it was solid now, smooth. Despite his blindfold, he realised that the light had diminished and the sun was no longer on his face. The sound of birds, insects and the sea was replaced by the echo of his and his captors’ footsteps as they walked into some sort of cavernous space. A cold chill crept up his spine. A door creaked open, and he was pushed forward.

‘Take that off,’ said a familiar voice, and the blindfold was removed roughly from his eyes. There, in front of him, stood a lean man with short grey hair, shaved at the sides and sitting up in spikes on his head. He was dressed in a sports jacket, a light open-necked shirt and black trousers. He was lean and fit and had chiselled features.

‘Mr Daley, I apologise for all this subterfuge. My reasons for it will become clear shortly. I hope you weren’t too traumatised.’

‘I can think of better ways to travel,’ said Daley. ‘Though you do realise that you’ve just kidnapped a police officer, don’t you, Mr Callaghan?’

‘I want all units to stop just outside Firdale. We’ll pull up at the church. Is that received and understood?’ Rainsford waited for replies from the other two vehicles then turned to Scott, sitting beside him in the passenger seat. ‘Are you OK, DS Scott?’

‘Aye, son, just dandy.’

‘If you want to stay out of the operation, I understand. I realise that, after what happened to you recently, you probably don’t want to get involved in a potential weapons scenario. I should have thought about it before we left the office. You are supposed to be on light duties, after all.’

‘Just you keep driving, son. Aye, an’ thank you for your consideration, but listen tae me, an’ listen good. When we stop the motor, I’ll be briefing the guys, got it?’

Rainsford bridled at Scott’s suggestion. ‘This is my case, and in the absence of DCI Daley, I’ll retain operational control.’

‘How many firearms ops have you taken charge o’, son?’

‘None – I mean, I only passed my firearms certification last year, so the opportunity has yet to arise.’

‘Well, I’ve been authorised tae carry a weapon for twenty years, an’ I’ve been on the wrang side o’ them twice. This is nae time for point scoring, son. I’m senior in service, an’ until Jim gets here, I’m in command. Just check that rulebook you’ve got in your heid, if you don’t believe me.’ Scott looked out of the window, while Rainsford gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

‘Fine,’ he said eventually. ‘It’s your call. But I’ll tell you something, DS Scott, if you fuck this up, I’ll put you on paper before the day’s out.’

‘See after this is over, son, the last thing you’ll be interested in is putting me on paper. You’ll just be glad you’re still alive, trust me.’

‘So I’m guessing you’re not a golf salesman then?’ said Daley, now sitting in a leather swivel chair. Callaghan sat at the other side of a polished desk, neatly organised with just a laptop, pad of paper, jar of expensive-looking pens and a tiny stars-and-stripes flag standing proud. There were no windows, and the glass wall behind Daley was covered by closed blinds.

‘You’re a smart guy, Mr Daley. But hey, why the formality? I’m Mike, can I call you Jim?’

‘Yes,’ said Daley. ‘Why have you brought me here?’

‘Tell me what you know about Walter Cudihey.’

‘That’s impossible. I can’t discuss police matters directly with you, I’m afraid.’

‘Lighten up, Jim. I don’t think there’s much about the cases you’re working on that I don’t know about.’

‘Meaning?’

‘If I mention the Dragon, does that have resonance with you?’

Daley was taken aback. He’d only just found out about the Dragon himself. ‘How long have you known about him?’

‘Oh, he and I go back a long way. He was responsible for the murder of some prominent businessmen in the States, under contract. Of course, when I say businessmen, I use the term loosely. In the main, these guys were mobsters, or at least associates, but it put him on our radar. What we’re interested in, Jim, is what he’s doing in Kinloch.’

‘You and me both.’

Callaghan fixed him with a hard stare. ‘You’re going to have to do better than that, Jim. Let’s try again: what do you know about Walter Cudihey?’

‘Cudihey worked for the Scottish Government,’ said Daley. ‘But you already know that.’ He couldn’t help but feel that Callaghan knew significantly more than he was letting on; perhaps he could be useful to Daley’s own investigations in Kinloch.

‘Why did he kill himself ?’ asked Callaghan.

‘Honestly, I have no idea.’

‘And what is the Dragon’s role in this?’

‘That’s the part that doesn’t make sense to me: an international assassin and his accomplice in Kinloch, of all places, murdering small-time dealers.’

‘I know you’ve been pushing for information from your Ministry of Defence,’ he said. ‘You won’t get anywhere with them.’

‘I’ll keep trying, as long as I believe that they have information pertinent to my investigation.’

‘Yeah, and wait for months for the great wheels of British bureaucracy to turn? You don’t have time for that, Jim, and neither do I. Take a look at this.’ Callaghan pressed a button on the underside of his desk: the lights dimmed and a large projection screen rolled down the wall behind him. ‘I think this may help you understand what’s going on. I know you have some idea, but let’s firm things up.’ He smiled. ‘Let me be clear, Jim, those in charge of our military would much rather you saw none of this.’

‘Here, gie me the phone,’ said Scott, grabbing the mobile from Rainsford’s hand. They had called the girl who had served Abdic in the small shop on the pier in Firdale. The three police cars were in the grounds of the church, at the other end of the village and well away from sight of the harbour. ‘Hi, darlin’,’ said Scott, as Rainsford raised an eyebrow at the greeting. ‘Noo, just tell us what’s happening. Is the guy still there?’

‘Yes, he is – well, he’s outside. He cleaned us out of vodka and cans of beer, bought some pizzas and tins of food. He’s weird.’

‘Weird, how?’

‘Just the shape o’ him. He’s nearly as broad as he’s long, and he doesn’t talk, just points and laughs. He’s standing on the pier now, smoking a cigar he bought. I don’t think he’s the full shillin’. Hey, is this guy dangerous, or somethin’?’ She sounded scared.

‘Naw. Just a wee bit simple,’ said Scott, grimacing at the lie. ‘Tell me, is there anyone else with him?’

‘Oh no. He’s on a tender, like a small day boat they would use for scallops or prawns. No’ a big yacht or proper fishing
boat or anything. When are yous guys coming tae speak tae him?’

‘We’re two minutes away. Just you stay where you are. The guy’s mair frightened of you than you are of him, so keep out the way. We’ll deal wae it.’ Scott winced again as he ended the call.

‘Do you think that was wise?’ asked Rainsford. ‘Wouldn’t it have been better to ask her to leave quietly, get out of harm’s way?’

‘Oh aye – don’t worry, darlin’, there’s nothing tae worry aboot, but get your arse oot o’ there pronto before this big bastard superglues your butt cheeks the gither, or pulls your tongue oot through your neck. Great idea, son. They’re no’ stupid around here – she’ll have heard all aboot what’s been going on in Kinloch. If I’d said anything like that tae her, she’d have panicked.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘If we a’ pile o’er the hill wae lights flashing, there’s no sayin’ what this bastard’s capable of. The lassie’s no’ seen anyone else, but that’s no’ tae say there’s nobody there.’ Scott stroked the stubble on his chin. ‘One o’ us is going tae have tae get near enough to him without him twigging what’s going on. Pull a weapon on the big bastard, then hope he sits nice until the rest o’ us appear. The last thing we want is for him tae get a sniff that the polis are on the way.’

‘I’ll do it,’ said Rainsford immediately.

‘Aye, right, man in a sharp suit walking doon a wee pier in the middle o’ nowhere. He’ll smell a rat straight away. The rest are a’ in uniform. There’s only one of us that doesnae look like a policeman.’

‘Who?’

‘Me,’ Scott said with a sigh. ‘I’ll take my jacket off and stick the shooter doon the back o’ my strides. The bugger will never suspect a thing until I’m on him.’

‘I’m not sure about this,’ said Rainsford. ‘In your current state – I mean, after your recent experiences – I don’t think that it’s wise you take this on.’

‘Fuck that, the decision’s made. Come on, we’ll drive quietly tae just under the brow o’ the hill, park the motors, then I’ll go on foot. You lot keep an eye oot, an’ as soon as I draw the pistol on him, pile doon ontae that quay as fast as you can.’

Rainsford looked doubtful. ‘I want it said for the record that I’m not happy about this.’ Scott didn’t look at him as he drove the CID car out of the church car park and slowly down through the village.

‘Your concerns are noted, DS Rainsford. Now, make yoursel’ useful – call the office an’ get them tae inform the coastguard. If this big bastard escapes, we’ll need tae get someone on his tail quick smart. Fuck, why does everything have to revolve aroon the sea in this bloody place?’

In less than two minutes, the three cars came to a stop behind the prow of the hill that sloped down to the harbour. Scott jumped out of the vehicle, removed his flak jacket and thrust his pistol into the back of his trousers. He rolled up his sleeves, took off his tie and opened the neck of his shirt.

‘See, could be a tourist oot for a wee stroll before lunch,’ said Scott, grinning at Rainsford.

‘Or the pub’s first customer waiting for the door to open.’

‘I’ll ignore that, son.’

They edged up the hill. Keeping the rest of the men behind him, Scott walked to the top and, without turning around,
said, ‘Oor man’s there, sitting on a bollard, taking in the air. Here I go.’ Hands in pockets, DS Brian Scott made his way down towards the pier. He stopped, pretending to admire a well-tended garden, then carried on, looking out over the bay to the sea beyond.

‘He might be a drunk, but he’s a fucking brave one,’ Rainsford whispered under his breath.

On the pier, the large man turned from the sea and looked up the hill, straight at Scott. Suddenly, the still air was filled with manic laughter.

37

Daley studied the map on the projector screen.

‘You’ll note these,’ said Callaghan, pointing at a series of thin lines that snaked across the oceans. Most were depicted in white, some red, and a very small number black. ‘Any ideas?’

‘We found lines like this on a map belonging to Cudihey, as I’m sure you’re aware.’

‘Right on the money.’ Callaghan smiled, his teeth gleaming even in the reduced light of the office. ‘But do you know what they are?’