The Blood Tree (42 page)

“What a surprise,” Hel Hyslop said under her breath.

“You see,” I continued, “there are a lot of Edinburgh connections in this case.” I reckoned I was better off sharing the information with him as well as with Hel – I wasn't sure how she was going to react.

There were a few seconds of silence. “Go on, Dalrymple.” My first name had suddenly gone missing in action.

“There isn't time to explain everything now. What I can tell you is that Rennie had been using genetic material and subjects from Edinburgh for years. In fact, he arranged for the kidnap of three hyper-intelligent teenagers from a special facility in Edinburgh at the same time you people grabbed me.” I told him that Dougal Strachan was one of them and gave him the two survivors' names. “I want you to arrange their return home, Andrew.”

“And why should I do that?” he asked frostily.

“Because I'm going to tell Hyslop everything else I know. After we've got the girl away from Macbeth and his psycho followers.” I could see a dim light on the road ahead. “I'm going to have to cut you off now, Andrew. Do we have a deal?”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely,” I corrected. “Out.”

Hel pulled up beside the dark blue Super Llama, her headlights sweeping over Davie and Katharine.

“So these are your friends,” she said, pulling out her gun and checking the safety catch.

I put my hand on her arm. “You won't need that.”

We got out. Katharine gave me a quick smile and Davie nodded. I made the introductions and there were a few seconds of mutually suspicious looks. Then Davie angled the portable bug monitor away from the light.

“Bloody hell, they're out on the water,” he said. “Heading east.”

“Jesus,” I said. “Maybe the mad bastards really are heading for the perfect city.”

“We'd better get over to the boatyard at the Kincardine Bridge,” Hyslop said.

“Why do you think they'd be going to go to Edinburgh, Quint?” Katharine asked.

“He thinks he knows everything,” Hel said sarcastically, turning back to the Llama. “Follow me.”

She meant the three of us to follow the Llama, but I took her literally and joined her in it. She was punching out a number on her mobile and frowned when she saw me.

“Tam, it's me,” she said. “Where are you?” She listened for a while. “Right, see what you can do about that. We're heading for the bridge. Then probably to Quint's home town. Wish me luck.” She listened and then glanced across. “Tam says you're to make sure you look after me.”

“Sure,” I replied. “At least as well as he looked after me in Glasgow. Where is he?”

She started the engine and swung away. “He's still at the Rennie. Duart's insisting that the place be taken apart.”

“I hope someone's taking care of Big Eye and his pals,” I said as the lights from the other vehicle flashed in our mirrors. “No doubt Glasgow's welfare services are world beaters.”

Hel nodded, not favouring my irony with a reply. Then she called the dock at the Kincardine Bridge.

“We're in luck,” she said when she finished. “There's a boat alongside. They're fuelling it up now. Edinburgh here we come.”

I looked at her. “It's not a certainty that Macbeth's going there. Maybe he's heading for Fife or even further north. I heard he's got cult members all over the place.”

“Really? I'm not exactly in a position to judge, Quint,” she said bitterly. “You've kept quiet about so much in this investigation.”

I shrugged. “I suppose I haven't got over the way we started – with a hypodermic full of dope in my thigh.”

She gunned the engine as we hit the bridge approach road, her lights catching the skeletal shapes of cars that had been burned out decades ago. “Don't tell me you haven't enjoyed the trip,” she said in a mocking voice. “At least you got a decent jacket out of it.”

I ran my hand down the smooth leather. “I suppose the last few days have had their moments,” I replied. Then Aurora's phantom face came out of the darkness and stopped my heart again. “Look,” I said haltingly, “it'd be better if you didn't come with us. If you're discovered in Edinburgh, the guardians will have you in the castle dungeons before you can draw your pistol.”

“I'm sure you'll put in a good word for me,” Hel said, slowing down as the boatyard's perimeter fence appeared in the headlight beam. “Save your breath, Quint. I'm coming. End of story.”

Not yet, I thought. Not until Aurora was safe.

“You'll need to give me the passengers' names, inspector.” The captain of the converted trawler was looking at Hel anxiously. “I can't sail without a manifest.”

I was glad to see that bureaucracy was flourishing even in go-ahead Glasgow.

“Yes you can!” she shouted up from the deck. “This is a Major Crime Squad operation and there's no time to lose. Move!”

The skipper nodded reluctantly then waved to his crewmen. The lines were slipped off the bollards and we headed out into the middle of the channel. Astern I made out the shape of another boat in the murk under the bridge. There were no lights on it.

I turned to Davie. “Where are the targets?” I asked, peering over his arm at the bug monitor. I couldn't make head or tail of the green and yellow lines and the red numbers on the miniature screen.

“About two and a half miles downstream.” He glanced at me. “Who knows what kind of boat they've got? If it's a fast one, we'll be hard pressed to catch up in this wreck.”

I felt a shudder through the whole of my body. It wasn't only because of the clammy chill out on the water. I wondered how Aurora was coping. The poor lass might never have been on a boat before, never mind one crewed by murderous lunatics.

“What about your friend's car?” I asked Katharine.

“Ewan won't mind. The yard manager's going to let him know. I told Ewan and Peter earlier that it was a matter of life or death.” She smiled at me encouragingly. “Snap out of it, Quint. We'll nail Macbeth. The wee girl will be fine.”

“Come below,” Hel said, eyeing Katharine uncertainly. “I'm told there's coffee and sandwiches.”

We followed her down to a surprisingly comfortable mess-room where food and drink had been laid out. There was a bottle of good-quality whisky on the table but I steered clear of it. Davie got stuck in – not that a couple of heavy slugs would have any effect on his performance.

A sailor came down the gangway and pointed to the bunks lining the cabin walls. “You can bed down there if you want. We'll all be on watch.”

Katharine and Hel stretched out, still regarding each other without much enthusiasm, while Davie and I stayed at the table.

“Are you all right, big man?” I asked. “You're the only one who can read that contraption, so it's no shut-eye for you.”

He nodded. “I'll go up to the bridge and keep the skipper on the ball. I'll let you know if anything exciting happens.”

“Make sure he keeps his distance.”

“Aye,” Davie said, screwing his eyes up at me. “You should get some kip, Quint. Or is there something you need to get off your chest?”

I was tempted to share the load with him but I couldn't. He was as close a friend as I had and he'd never let me down. But things were different with Aurora. She came from another time, a time before I knew Davie or Katharine. Keeping quiet about her was the only way I could feel close to her – and, through her, close to Caro. After eleven years I thought I'd finally managed to cope with the death of my first great love, but now I knew that was a delusion.

I sat back after Davie went up. I was stretching and yawning but I didn't think sleep would come. Then, under the table, I spotted the black hold-all I'd brought in from the Llama. I picked it up and opened the zip carefully, trying not to wake the women. Both of them had apparently passed out seconds after their heads hit the grubby pillows. I took the heavy pistol out and checked the clip before slipping it under my belt. There were still three rounds in it.

Then I had a look at the files Broadsword had dropped. There were eight of them; eight names that rang several bells. They belonged to the four men and four women who'd been murdered and mutilated in Glasgow. I felt my jaw go slack. What the hell were files about them doing in the Baby Factory? I flicked back to the covers of the cardboard folders. Each was headed “Rennie Institute”, with a second line reading “Director – Professor D. J. Rennie MA, MSc, PhD” – the bent scientist obviously liked seeing his name in print all the time. It was the third line that really caught my eye. It contained the words “Personnel Department”.

I spent a long time reading the contents of those files.

I went up to the bridge later on when I heard the revs being cut. I was immediately soaked by the haar which Edinburgh is famous for. The chill sea mist had rolled across the Forth with a promise of winter.

“Where are we?” I asked the captain.

He glanced round from the wheel. “We're shooting the supports of the old rail bridge.”

“Where's Macbeth's boat?” I asked Davie as I looked out to my right. This time I could see nothing of
Britannia
.

“About a mile ahead,” he replied, eyes locked on the monitor. “Fortunately it seems to be even more of a rust-bucket than this one—”

“Here, watch it,” the sailor complained.

“– so we made up some of the distance.” Davie turned to me. “Get any sleep? You look a bit less wiped out.”

“Looks can be deceptive, my friend.” I was feeling exhausted and I was still very nervous about Aurora, but I had also begun to feel the rush that I always get when a case builds towards its climax.

“Fucking haar,” the skipper said, eyes on his radar. At least the ramshackle boat was kitted out with reasonable equipment. “The one good thing about it is that it's keeping the head-banging Embra boats in port.”

I nodded, looking ruefully at Davie. The Fisheries Guard tended to ram first and ask questions afterwards. We were within the Edinburgh mobile phone system's range now, but I wasn't planning on giving the City Guard any advance warning yet.

The next hour dragged by. They were enlivened only by breakfast, when Katharine and Hel tried to win awards for the most vicious look and the most snide comment. Overnight they seemed to have taken an inordinate dislike to each other. Davie and I went back up top, shaking our heads. I took the black hold-all with me.

Then Davie leaned forward over the bug monitor. “He's changing course,” he said after a few more seconds. “Yep, he's on a bearing of 160. He'll hit the shoreline pretty soon.”

“How far are we behind him?” I asked.

“Twelve hundred yards,” the skipper said after checking his instruments.

“Shit,” I said, gripping the chart table. “If he beaches, we'll be stuck out here while he gets clear.”

Davie was looking at me. “Not only that. The border guards on the shore might spot them and pin them down.”

I felt a razor-sharp blade run through my heart. Jesus. The border guards are one of the few units issued with guns in Edinburgh. I remembered Macbeth's heavy automatic. The idea that Aurora might be caught in an exchange of fire was making my heart pound.

“Give me your mobile, Davie.”

Katharine and Hel had just climbed up to the wheelhouse.

“What is it, Quint?” Katharine asked.

I didn't reply. I was too busy trying to raise the public order guardian on his mobile. The old bugger must have been asleep. Eventually he answered.

“Lewis, it's Dalrymple.”

“Good God, man, where the bloody—”

“Never mind that. This is an emergency. Tell the border patrols on the shore to the west of Granton to withdraw immediately. There's a landing party on its way in and it's essential you allow them free passage. We're about ten minutes behind them.”

“Landing party? Free passage?” the guardian spluttered. “What on earth—”

“Do it, Lewis! Now!” I shouted. “I'll get back to you soon. Out.”

“He's almost hit dry land,” Davie said, looking up from the monitor. “It's sand there so he's probably going right in to the shore.”

Hyslop stepped up to me. “What's going on, Quint? Who were you talking to?”

I looked at her. “Someone you never want to meet. If you think Duart's bad . . .” I let the words trail away and turned to the skipper. “Can you get us ashore a safe distance from the target boat?”

He nodded. “Oh aye. I've landed people often enough around here. The guards are more miss than hit in this midden of a city.”

Davie looked like he was about to take the Glaswegian out, but Katharine just laughed. The sight of Hel and Davie in simultaneous high dudgeon had made her day before sunrise.

The tide was on the ebb so we had a long trudge across the sodden sands in the early morning light. The boat disappeared into the mist, which was clearing but still sufficient to soak our hair and clothes. There was no sign of the craft that had delivered our quarry. They were probably smugglers whose extortionate rates would have been no problem for Macbeth. The northern suburbs of Edinburgh gradually took shape in front of us, looking about as welcoming as a town full of hungry ghosts. I had a quick flash of the necropolis in Glasgow and that made me think of Macbeth and his cult. The way my home city was going he'd probably get fifty thousand members on the spot if he staged a performance – not that he could do that without finding a way of keeping it secret from the Council and the guard.

“Where do you think they'll go?” Davie said from my left, sinking up to his laces in the muddy sand. Katharine was beyond him while Hel was sticking close to me on the right.

I shrugged. “That isn't our problem. We can track them on the monitor easily enough. The problem is, how do we get the girl away?”