The Blood Tree (43 page)

“Wait a second,” Katharine said. “How are they going to get around the city? Surely they won't have transport.”

“Remember the missing Labour Directorate van,” I said, glancing at Davie. “Where are they now?”

He held the monitor to his face. “In the middle of Muirhouse. They're moving slowly so they're obviously on foot.” He looked closer. “Not any more they're not. They're going faster now, heading towards Ferry Road.”

I looked at my watch. “Six-thirty. The workers' buses have started. They may have taken one of them. We need transport ourselves.”

“I'm on to it,” Davie said, pulling out his mobile and calling the command centre.

We reached the top of the shore and started stamping our feet on the road that runs alongside. It wasn't particularly cold, but the damp had seeped into my boots and buggered up the circulation in my toes. Fortunately my brain seemed to be unaffected.

“Broadsword,” I said under my breath.

“What about him?” Hel asked, her face wet from the haar but her eyes as unwavering as ever.

“The last time I saw him he was wearing his mask and medieval costume. He might get away with that in the central tourist zone but not in the citizen areas.”

“Wouldn't they just think he was off to work in some performance?” Katharine asked.

“There's a Raeburn Barracks Land-Rover on its way,” Davie said. He grimaced. “The public order guardian's heading down here as well.”

“Oh shit,” I said, turning to Hel. “You're about to be nailed.”

“Why?” she demanded, eyes wide open. “I haven't done anything illegal.”

“Yes, you have,” Davie said, raising his arm as a guard vehicle came round the corner, lights blazing. “This is a closed city. You need a Council authorisation to cross the borders.” He grinned at her. “In my experience, one of those has never been granted to a member of the Glasgow police.”

A smile appeared on Katharine's lips again. Time for me to step in and promote some togetherness.

“Don't worry, Hel. Lewis Hamilton is putty in my hands.”

Davie and Katharine both laughed as the guard Land-Rover pulled up.

“This time he is,” I said, picking up the hold-all. “This time he's going to do everything I say or he'll be spending the night in one of his own dungeons.”

That put a stop to their levity.

Hamilton appeared a few minutes later, his Jeep turning on to Pennywell Road as we were about to turn out of it. I would have kept going, but the auxiliary driver stopped obediently when he saw the guardian's agitated hand signals.

Lewis got out and made for us. “Dalrymple?” he said, his face lowering over the windscreen like a bearded full moon. “What the bloody hell's going on?”

I smiled at Hyslop and got out, motioning to the rest of them to stay put. “I'm very pleased to see you too, guardian,” I said, taking his arm and leading him down the pavement. A couple of male citizens in blue overalls and donkey jackets stared at us with the contemptuous indifference that's generally applied to guard personnel in the suburbs.

“Well?” the guardian demanded. “Where have you been, man? What's all this about a hostage?”

I told him the basics then wound myself up for the punchline. “I'm taking charge of this operation,” I said. “And you're going to do everything I say.”

That had the predictable effect of making his cheeks redden and his chest puff out like a seabird's during the mating season. “Have you lost your—”

“You're in very deep shit, Lewis,” I said, cutting his question off before it turned into a diatribe. “I know that this city's been doing genetic engineering deals with Glasgow.”

That deflated him instantly. The small doubt I'd had that the secret committee he and Sophia were on was not involved with Rennie's activities disappeared. He looked as guilty as a cat with cream-covered whiskers.

I raised my hand. “I don't care about the reasons, Lewis. The Glasgow executive's tearing the research facility over there apart as I speak. It's finished. All that matters is saving a girl who's been taken hostage.”

“Have you been in Glasgow?” he asked in disbelief. He looked round at the Land-Rover. “Who's that female? Is she from—”

“I told you, I'm in charge. She's with me. And another thing. There's to be no question of Hume 253 being demoted. Got that? If you argue, I'll tell the Council about the secret set-up you and Sophia are running with the science and energy guardian and Billy Geddes.” I stared at him. “Billy is in on it, isn't he?”

Hamilton nodded slowly. “He's been handling the financial side.” He looked at me. “We didn't do it for monetary gain. You do believe that, don't you, Dalrymple? The birth-rate's dropped horrifically; we need the benefits of modern science.”

I shook my head at him. “I don't care about that now. You can convince me later. The girl is all that counts now. The fucker who's got her is a madman. He and his followers were behind the murders of the auxiliaries.”

That made Hamilton pull himself together. “Very well,” he said. “What do you need?”

“Nothing for the time being,” I said, turning on my heel. “Go back to the castle and make sure I get everything I ask for the second I ask for it.”

“All right,” he agreed reluctantly. “And Dalrymple?” he called after me. “It's . . . it's good to have you back.”

I almost fainted. I didn't think the old hardnose had it in him. Things must have got really bad since I'd been gone.

We headed up to Queensferry Road and then into the city centre. The targets were on foot again and had left the east end of Princes Street.

“They're moving round the lower slopes of the Calton Hill,” Davie said, his eyes on the monitor.

“Get over there,” I said to the driver. I could have sent other guard personnel closer, but there was no need. Anyway, I didn't trust the guardian enough to be sure he wouldn't try a full-scale intervention if his people were involved. Then it struck me. “Shit, he's heading for Royal Terrace,” I said, glancing at Katharine. “The superannuated scientist.”

She nodded. “Doctor Godwin and his extremely strange pet.”

Hel was staring at us. “What are you talking about?”

I told her about the animal geneticist who had supposedly been retired. I reckoned that was horseshit – the old bastard was probably still hard at work on a daily basis. The question was, where? A lab conducting illegal experiments could hardly be located in a standard Science and Energy Directorate facility.

The Land-Rover jerked to a halt at the traffic lights at the foot of the Mound. The tourist tat shops on Princes Street were open but deserted at this early hour, citizen workers tramping through the drizzle with their shouders hunched and the collars of their thin Supply Directorate coats up. The city's visitors would still be in their beds, brains numbed by the booze dispensed in the clubs and genitalia worn out by Tourism Directorate hookers. There wasn't a single child to be seen. My heart seized up for a few seconds as I thought of Aurora being dragged along by Macbeth. I could only hope that she was being smart and doing everything he told her.

“They've stopped,” Davie said, bent over the monitor. “Towards the far end of Royal Terrace.”

I nodded. “That'll be the retirement home. I have a feeling they won't be there for long.” I turned to the driver. “Go down to the Playhouse Leisure Centre and pull up there. We'll wait for them to get on the move again.”

He did so. We sat wiping the windows of the vehicle as they clouded up with the steam rising from our still sodden clothes and footwear. After a few minutes Hel, who was in the back, stretched her arms and legs then leaned towards us. I felt Katharine shy away.

“What's in those files, Quint?” she asked, pointing at the bag at my feet. “Can I have a look at them?” There was a slight edge to her voice.

“Nothing interesting,” I said nonchalantly. “Who knows what Broadsword wanted with them?”

“Can I have a look at them?” the inspector repeated.

“Movement!” Davie said. “Faster than pedestrians. They've found a vehicle and they're heading eastwards round Royal Terrace.”

I grabbed the Land-Rover's mobile and got the retirement home's number from the central switchboard. The effete auxiliary in charge remembered me and tried to pass the time of day. I threatened him with the mines and was told that Dr Godwin had gone off in a taxi with a thin-faced, bearded man. And yes, there was a girl – a very pretty, shy one – with him. But he'd seen no sign of anyone else in the cab.

The target vehicle had swung round on to Regent Terrace and was heading west. I told the driver to go up to the top of Leith Walk and wait for them there. The fact that they were in a taxi showed that Godwin still had high-level clearance – only serving senior auxiliaries and tourists are allowed to use cabs.

“All right, let's move,” I said as the taxi went past us and down Princes Street. “And keep your bloody distance!” Guard drivers aren't much use at tailing as there are so few vehicles in Edinburgh. I caught a glimpse of Macbeth's head but no one else was visible. He was obviously making sure that Aurora didn't get a chance to attract attention.

“Where's Broadsword got to?” Davie asked.

“I reckon he's keeping his head down in the taxi,” I said.

“Trying not to scare the locals,” Katharine said grimly.

“Or he might not have been with Macbeth in the first place,” Hel pointed out from behind us. “We're only assuming he joined up with his leader on the way out of Glasgow.”

“True enough,” I said. “He might also have keeled over from the bullets I pumped into him.” I turned to face her. “But I'm not counting on that. I'm pretty sure he's here. He's been before, he knows his way around.”

The taxi turned left at the lottery kiosks around the foot of the Mound and ground up the hill. Our driver got himself behind a diesel-spewing bus, which provided plenty of cover.

“Drop back a bit more,” I said, still panicking about being spotted, although Godwin would tell Macbeth that guard vehicles are everywhere in Edinburgh. I wasn't taking any chances with Aurora's safety.

The target vehicle disappeared where the road forms a right angle by the Finance Directorate. That edifice brought my former friend Billy Geddes to mind again. Not for the first time I'd found his sticky fingers where they shouldn't have been. I wondered if getting involved with the genetic engineering business had been his idea a long time ago, or whether Sophia or the science and energy guardian had resurrected it more recently. Christ, Billy might have been in on the deal when Caro was still alive.

“Where are they?” I asked Davie, trying to concentrate on the operation in hand.

“They went over the Royal Mile. They're heading south down George IV Bridge.”

I told the driver to stop outside the central archive while we let them go on undisturbed. After a few minutes Davie looked up from the monitor. “They've stopped,” he said. “At the junction of Lauriston Place and Lady Lawson Street.”

“Let's go,” I said to the driver, wondering what was going on. Then I had it. The former college of art buildings were now a warren of partly used office premises and storage depots. In pre-Enlightenment times they'd been packed with tutors and students, not all of them with dodgy haircuts and paint-spattered smocks. The Council's view of art was severely limited – the odd stern monument for the city's streets and scenery for the tourist theatres were about the limit. Despite the Platonic doctrines which the guardians claim they follow, there isn't any provision for art teaching in the schools so very few people study the subject these days. The college takes up only a small part of the complex.

“I wonder if the college of art is where the mad doctor has his labs,” I said.

Davie looked at me thoughtfully. “Could be. I was in there a few months ago on a routine security call. It's as quiet as the grave.”

“Nice simile, big man,” I said. “Okay, pull up here.”

The driver stopped on Lauriston Place, about fifty yards away from the college.

“I'm going in on my own,” I said, jumping down.

Three voices said “What?” at the same time.

I leaned in the Land-Rover's window. “You heard me. Stake out the outside and wait for my call.” I gave them all the eye. “No one's to come in without the word from me. I'm serious, all right?”

Katharine, Davie and Hel Hyslop nodded, none of them with any enthusiasm.

I turned away but Davie called me back.

“Don't you want this?” he asked, holding out the driver's mobile. “It'll connect to the Edinburgh network quicker than the Glasgow one you've got.”

“Good idea, commander,” I said, sticking it into my pocket. As I did so, my fingers felt Broadsword's automatic.

I hoped for Aurora's sake that I wouldn't have to use it.

Chapter Twenty