Текст книги "A Taste of Ashes"

Автор книги: Tony Black

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

44

DI Eddy Harris raised his face to the ceiling, closed his eyes. He appeared to be awaiting divine intervention or at least a lifeline from the chief super: neither appeared. With each second that ticked away it seemed the room became more claustrophobic, like the walls closed in and the oxygen supply was depleted.

Valentine’s gaze flitted between Harris and the others, everyone was staring at Harris, waiting for a response to the allegation he’d been paid by Leask. Could it be true? Could a police officer, even one like Flash Harris, really be so stupid? ‘Nothing to say for yourself, Eddy?’

He opened his eyes. ‘Nothing that changes the situation.’

CS Martin slapped the heel of her hand on the desktop. ‘You’ll have to do a damn sight better than that, Eddy, or I’ll pick up the phone and reserve a nice cell for you downstairs, one with hot and cold running recrimination. Don’t think about saving your job, think about saving your skin because without some mitigation in your defence I’m throwing the book at you.’

Major Rutherford started to rise from his seat, he looked like he wanted to be invisible too. ‘I don’t think you need me here for this, Marion. I’ll see myself out.’

‘You’ll sit your arse down,’ said Martin. ‘As soon as I’m finished with him, you’re up next. And if I need Home Office approval to see those case files on Tulloch and Finnie, I’ll get it, along with a warrant for your arrest on charges of impeding a murder investigation which resulted in the death of a minor. Am I making myself clear enough, Tom?’

‘But, but … Look this is silly, we have the case tied up.’

‘No buts!’ Martin blasted. ‘You have made me look a bloody muppet today, and on television too. I won’t forget that in a long time. If you think I’m going to let you slither off back to barracks and forget your involvement, think again.’ She moved in front of Harris, pointed a finger in his face. ‘Now spill your guts from start to finish, Eddy, or so help me God I’ll make you such a poster boy for bent coppers that they’ll be writing you into the textbooks.’

Harris gathered his breath and looked about the room as if surveying the exits. If he was thinking of making a dash for the door he declined and spoke up instead. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Everything,’ said the chief super.

Valentine prompted him. ‘How about you confirm the robbery was planned by Leask and that you knew all about it.’

‘Now come on, Bob …’

‘No, you come on. I have statements confirming you were there when Leask put up the job.’ He was stretching the facts again, but time was running out and there’d never be another opportunity where the pressure on Harris was so intense.

Harris leaned forward, spoke to his hands: ‘There was a punch-up between the pair of them, it’d been on the cards for some time but Leask let it fester because he wanted them for the job – they were ex-army so it was like hiring proper professionals. He liked that idea, didn’t want any balls-ups, you see.’

‘Go on,’ said Valentine.

‘He hauled them in after the fight, made them think they were both getting the bullet from the Meat Hangers, but then drew it back.’

‘Made them an offer they couldn’t refuse, you mean?’

‘He said if they staged the robbery that they could keep their jobs and that he’d put a good drink in it for them too.’

‘And they went for it just like that?’

‘No. Not at first. That’s where I came in, we agreed to stage the robbery on one of my shifts so I could make sure the investigation ignored them.’

‘You bloody idiot, Eddy.’

Martin turned around, she folded her arms as she stared out the window of her office. ‘How much was in it for you?’

‘From the robbery, nothing. Honestly, I never took a thing.’

‘Oh, come on …’

‘No, I’m serious. I never took any because I was just protecting my investment, if the Meat Hangers went under then I did too. I couldn’t stay afloat now without the money Leask feeds me, I’m a bloody fool, I know, but I didn’t have a choice, I’ve got debts up to my eyeballs.’

It was an old story and one that Valentine had heard too many times already to summon an ounce of sympathy. He had financial difficulties of his own but he had never been tempted to put his fingers in the till. ‘So, what went wrong? Tulloch and Fin screwed Leask I take it?’

‘I don’t know, and that’s the God’s honest.’ Harris looked up from the floor and pleaded, ‘I didn’t know there was going to be a murder, Bob, I’d never have got involved with anything like that, I swear to it.’

‘Well something went tits up.’

‘Yes, big time. But don’t ask me what. All I know is the money went missing and Leask went ballistic.’

‘He also went missing,’ said Valentine.

Martin responded, ‘Where’s Leask now?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Eddy.

‘Don’t tell me you don’t know. Tell me you do know or you’ll find out and have the answer with me in under a minute or I’ll throw you to the wolves, Eddy.’

‘He could be anywhere,’ said Harris. ‘I suspected the Paton boy was his work too. I called him on it and he admitted Joe had gone too far. Supposedly it was an accident, Joe being over-exuberant trying to get information about where the money was, but after that I was out. I broke off all communication. Jesus Christ, I’m a police officer, maybe not a good one, but I know the consequences of where this is all going.’

‘Do you, Eddy?’ said Martin. ‘I don’t think you’ve the faintest idea.’ She picked up the telephone and threw it in his lap. ‘Get onto Leask now, get a whereabouts and get bloody moving.’

As Harris dialled the number the office fell into silence. Valentine tried to weigh up what he had just seen and heard but it was almost too much for him. Eddy had been a fool but could he judge him for that? Every day he himself had dealt with people like Norrie Leask and faced temptation, all it took was a brief loss of concentration or even carelessness and you were in the drink. Valentine was lucky to be a family man – his wife and daughters meant everything to him – but others weren’t so fortunate to have what he did. If Harris had slipped up and Leask had found out then the chances were that he would do anything Leask asked to keep quiet. People were simple to handle when they had secrets. When they were vain and stupid too, like Harris, then they were easy to manipulate.

Harris replaced the receiver on the cradle and looked towards the chief super. ‘That was Joe.’

‘Who?’ she said.

‘Leask’s wingman, he takes care of business, well most business.’

‘He’s a wrist breaker, a raving psycho,’ said Valentine. ‘Stop stalling, Eddy, where’s Leask?’

‘Well, the last place I expected – Brodick.’

‘He’s on Arran?’ said Martin.

‘Dining in fine style as we speak, at the Auchrannie Hotel.’

‘What the bloody hell’s he doing there?’

‘Seems he got a tip-off. He’s been looking for Grant Finnie, or more precisely he’s been looking for his money, Finnie just happens to be in possession of it.’

‘Well he won’t be for much longer if Leask has his way,’ said Valentine.

The chief super reached into her drawer and pulled out her car keys, threw them at Valentine. ‘That’s all we need another murder to add to the two, now unsolved, we already have. Try explaining that to the bloody papers.’

‘What am I to do with these?’ said Valentine, holding up the keys.

‘Get driving.’ She was putting on her jacket, heading for the door. ‘We can’t leave this to the island plod, it’s a potential murder not a missing bobble hat.’

‘We’ll need to get the ferry, preferably one that takes vehicles.’

‘Shit. Tell me this isn’t happening.’

Valentine moved towards the desk, stretched over and pulled the phone towards him. ‘I’m calling Glasgow, get them to send the copter.’

Martin dug her hands into her jacket pockets, leaned her back against the wall and sighed to the heavens. ‘Blow my budget as well, why don’t you … Get onto the Air Support Unit in Glasgow now, Bob.’

45

Valentine directed the helicopter controller at Air Support to collect himself, Martin and McCormack from the Low Green and called ahead for uniform to make sure the area was cleared. There was only one helicopter under contract to the force and he had expected a protracted debate about its usage but got none after offering the controller the opportunity to speak with CS Martin personally. He smiled at the response, but didn’t let on why; the chief super had started pacing her office now, breaking into occasional rants at DI Harris and Major Rutherford.

‘I should put the bloody pair of you in the cells, now,’ said CS Martin. ‘Just about pushed me out the door to front that press conference didn’t you? It’ll be a long time before I live that down.’

As she berated the men, Valentine confirmed the details once more with Air Support and stepped away from the phone. ‘Right, we’ll set off in ten minutes,’ he said.

‘What’s wrong with right away?’ said Martin.

Valentine flagged her down. ‘We’ve got plenty of time, they have to get here first.’

The CS took the opportunity to start once more on the list of grievances she had with Harris and Rutherford. ‘Sylvia, get Phil and Ally in here would you, they can escort this pair of twats down to the interview rooms and make a start on getting full statements.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ said Rutherford. ‘I don’t think you’ve got any cause to hold me here.’

‘Don’t you? Well that’s good I don’t give a bloody toss what you think, Tom. But if you’re looking for a reason to hang around then how about a detailed account of why you saw fit to withhold vital information from my officers relating to Tulloch and Finnie.’

‘I hardly think it was vital …’

‘A boy died, a sixteen-year-old because you wrong– footed my team, or doesn’t that bother you? No probably not, just another bit of collateral damage in your campaign isn’t it?’

Sylvia broke in, ‘Phil and Ally are on their way up right away.’

‘Good,’ said Martin. ‘Tell them to contact the Ministry of Defence with the new facts and get all the case files relating to Tulloch and Finnie’s departure from the army. I want to see heads roll. We’re going to blow this cover-up wide open.’

Valentine took the driver’s seat of Martin’s Audi. The road to the Low Green passed mainly in silence, except for the chief super’s curses every time a traffic light shone red or a pedestrian dared to cross in front of the car. There was very little she could say to mend the situation, an apology would be trite and useless, and wouldn’t bring back the murder victims or those who had been affected by their deaths. Saying sorry might be some kind of balm to Valentine’s ego, but he didn’t want to hear it; he knew Martin was, if not contrite, then feeling an embarrassment verging on shame and that was good enough for him.

‘Sir, would you like me to call ahead, tell the local officers we’re on the way?’ said McCormack.

‘God no,’ said Valentine. ‘You’ll only scare the horses. Or worse, the local team will wade in and we’ll be chasing Leask through the wilds for the next fortnight. No, they can find out why we’re there when we arrive.’

‘Yes, sir.’

At the Low Green the team caught the sound of the helicopter in the distance, a few day-trippers were interested enough to stop and stare at the sky. Uniform were clearing the ground for landing, herding people onto the pavements and stopping dog walkers from heading for the grass. As they waited, counting the moments to the copter’s descent, Martin approached Valentine and said, ‘This is a bloody mess, isn’t it?’

‘It’s not pretty.’

‘I’ll get my knuckles reddened for this, you know.’

‘I don’t think you can be blamed.’

Martin spat, ‘No. And neither do I, Bob, but we both know that’s not going to stop them.’

‘I suppose not,’ he dipped his head. ‘But you shouldn’t blame yourself.’

She calmed for a moment, then resumed her talk. ‘Tell me, did you suspect Eddy of anything, ever?’

The chief super gazed into Valentine, he saw she was checking him for non-verbal cues that might betray him so he held firm. Harris was finished, he knew that, and there was very little to be gained from making matters any worse for him. Despite the situation, the DI saw that Harris didn’t need any more trouble. ‘No, I never suspected Eddy of anything.’

‘No, me neither. His coat’s been on a slack hook for a long time but I thought that was him just getting lazy – turns out he’s been anything but. Silly bastard. He’ll be hung out to dry for this.’

‘And so he should be.’ It didn’t please Valentine to think of another officer being brought down, even Flash Harris. But an officer treating the job with such contempt, that was something altogether different. He couldn’t imagine letting his own standards fall so low, how could anyone else? There was a collective shame that Harris had brought on everyone and Valentine didn’t want to see others in the station suffer because of it.

The noise of the downdraught and the whirring blades of the helicopter curtailed their conversation. As the copter’s side-doors opened the team piled in and fastened themselves into their seats for the short journey across the Firth of Clyde. The pilot motioned them to put on their earphones and then relayed the message that they were landing on a playing field in Brodick, it was approximately half a mile from the hotel where Leask was staying.

Valentine turned to the pilot. ‘Call ahead when we’re a few minutes from landing and get a squad car to pick us up.’

‘If I can find anyone, the place isn’t fully manned.’

‘Brilliant. Let’s hope there’s nothing serious going down, like a goat in labour.’

The small island started to hove into view. The bright blues of sky and sea butting gently with the lush greens and deeper browns of the land and hills. It seemed a jagged, dramatic place. The cliff crags and the jutting peaks appearing starkly in contrast to the mainland’s built-up conformity.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said DS McCormack.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve never been to Arran,’ said Valentine.

‘Never. It’s so wild and harsh, yet peaceful.’

‘They call it Scotland in miniature … and all life is here.’

The helicopter seemed to swing out to sea again and then backed up on itself and drifted closer to the coast. They were now near enough to see people looking up to the skies and the branches of trees bending downwards in the rotor’s wake. The pilot waved to a man on the ground who was standing by a pair of red cones, flagging his hands above his head. The engines heaved a last loud burst and then the helicopter was lowered to the ground, the wheels bouncing gently and then staying still.

The blades above were still turning as the squad got out. A man in uniform, holding his hat pressed tight to his head, approached.

‘Inspector Valentine?’ he said.

‘Yes, that’s me.’ The DI introduced the others and the uniform announced himself as DS Rory McNeil.

‘If you follow me,’ he said. ‘I have a car waiting to take you round to the Auchrannie … it’s the Astra estate over there.’

‘That would be the big white one with police on the side?’

‘I see there’s little gets past you, sir.’

At the hotel Valentine instructed DS McNeil to drop them some distance from the front entrance. ‘I don’t want to tip off Leask, if it can at all be helped.’

At the front desk a young girl in a black jacket, her name tag on the lapel, greeted them with a smile. CS Martin frowned and produced her warrant card. ‘Police. I think you better call your duty manager.’

The girl’s gaze fell on the telephone, she picked up the receiver. ‘Erm, he’s not answering.’

‘We need to remove a guest, right away.’

‘Remove?’

‘The sooner the better. Can you tell me what room Norrie Leask is in?’

The girl was unsure of herself but went to the computer, tapped a few keys. ‘Mr Leask is in Room 212.’

‘What about his companion?’

‘Is that Joe Barr? … He’s in the next room 214. We don’t have any rooms with the number 13 in them.’

‘Well that’s lucky,’ said Martin. ‘Sylvia, grab the lassie’s jacket and a tray, you’re going to deliver some room service to Mr Leask.’

‘I’m not sure if I can do that,’ said the receptionist.

‘Trust me, you can. Or would you prefer to keep a murder suspect upstairs?’

The officers headed for the lift. Once outside Leask’s door, Valentine stationed himself to the left of the spy hole and CS Martin stood outside room 214.

‘OK, Sylvia, knock-knock …’

McCormack tapped on the door and called out, ‘Room service.’

No answer.

‘Knock again,’ said Valentine.

Another knock, harder this time.

‘OK. OK. I’m coming.’ The voice behind the door was a middle-aged man’s, heavy Ayrshire in tone.

‘Soon as the chain’s off, kick it in,’ said Valentine.

The door opened, the chain wasn’t on. McCormack kicked the door in and Norrie Leask fell backwards into the room, cursing.

‘Stay where you are, Norrie,’ said Valentine.

The sound of footsteps padded from the interior of the room to the front door where the officers waited.

‘You too, Joe. This is a bit like a full house,’ said Valentine. ‘In here, chief.’

As Martin came in McCormack was cuffing Leask behind his back, propping him against the wall. Valentine was turning the protesting Joe around. ‘Just shut it, now. You’ll have plenty of time to tell us all about it when we get you down the nick.’

‘It’s not us you want,’ said Leask.

‘You’ll do for now,’ said McCormack.

‘But they’re here,’ said Leask. ‘You’re letting them get away …’

CS Martin stepped towards Leask. ‘What is he going on about?’

Before Leask had a chance to reply DS McNeil appeared at the doorway. ‘I just had a call on the radio, I think you should hear this – there’s been shots fired out at the old bothy in Glen Rosa.’

‘I told you,’ wailed Leask. ‘You got the wrong ones.’

‘Shut it, Norrie.’ said Valentine. ‘Where’s this Glen Rosa?’

46

Valentine led Leask through the hotel foyer to the car park. A few guests in gym wear, obviously en route to the leisure club, stopped and stared but were promptly waved aside. As McNeil arrived with the second custody and CS Martin, Valentine was putting Leask in the back of the Astra, a wary hand on the top of his head as he ducked the roof.

‘How are we all going to get in there?’ said Valentine.

‘We need the Land Rover for the glen, it’s on the way with our armed response officer,’ said McNeil.

‘You have armed response on Arran?’

‘Not exactly. We have a couple of rifles, and my offsider has them in the Land Rover for the odd stray deer, we get them on the roads and they can do terrible damage to a vehicle.’ He put Joe in the back of the Astra with Leask, where he rattled his handcuffs and continued to protest.

‘I’ll go with uniform to keep an eye on this pair,’ said DS McCormack.

Valentine nodded, turned back to McNeil – he wanted to know more about the guns. ‘Tell me you have the proper firearms training.’

‘Of course. Have to, as you know …’

‘And have you actually fired one?’

‘Oh, yes. I shot a cow once, had been hit by a post van and was in a dreadful way, blood oozing out the nose, the tongue lolling …’

Thank you for the image,’ said Valentine.

‘The kindest thing for it was to put it out of its misery.’

The DI turned to the chief super. ‘I’d love to see the paperwork on that.’

‘Oh, jeez, you wouldn’t have liked to fill it in,’ replied McNeil. ‘The best part of a day it took me, I had to reload a few times you see. I suppose I was lucky it wasn’t a built-up area, now that would have been a nightmare.’

The conversation halted abruptly as the Land Rover appeared and a uniformed officer opened the door and got out. The CS and the DI piled in as McNeil directed the uniform towards DS McCormack and the awaiting collars in the back seat of the Astra.

‘Come on, Rory, you have to drive us there. We’re wasting time,’ said Martin.

As he got behind the steering wheel McNeil detailed the route. Glen Rosa was a scenic spot on the edge of Brodick with a rambling track to the top of the Goatfell range. It could be boggy in places but there were beaten-earth tracks that the Land Rover could handle easily if it came to that.

‘There’s a wee road leads there, just outside Brodick, we’ll be there in no time,’ said McNeil.

‘What’s the story with the shots?’ said Martin.

‘There’s a campsite, with an old stone bothy, I think the campers use it as a washroom now. There was a call, shots were heard inside. Some voices, screams but nobody’s seen anything, we’ll be the first on the scene, I’m afraid. Can you handle a rifle, chief super?’

‘No I bloody cannot. And nor do I intend to.’

‘No worries. Sure, I’m a bit of an action man myself and Bob there looks the part.’

As they travelled, Valentine’s mind flushed with previous similar encounters. There had never been gunshots, only knives, but one of those had found its way through the walls of his heart and he wasn’t keen to repeat the experience. The pain had been inconsequential compared to the hurt it had caused his family, he couldn’t bring himself to think about Clare or the girls having to go through that again. He forced away his fears.

‘How the hell did it come to this?’ said Martin.

Did she mean an armed stand-off on Arran? Or, the pair of them sitting in a car heading for their potential doom? ‘Well, we were short-staffed before you bumped Harris.’

‘I’ve a bloody good mind to go and get him, send him in there now.’

Valentine agreed. ‘We could all march behind him, let Flash Harris do the talking.’

‘He’s used to shooting his mouth off, he wouldn’t need a gun.’

The Land Rover came screeching to a halt in a gravel road, spraying scree beyond the tyres and jerking the occupants in their seats.

‘Right, we’re here,’ said McNeil.

Valentine was first out of the vehicle. He spotted a small group of tourists and campers gathered beyond a dry-stone dyke; the DI observed them for a few seconds then summoned them away from the wall. The group trailed slowly towards him and as McNeil appeared with the rifles those in front of him increased their pace.

‘Get inside that house.’ Valentine pointed to a whitewashed cottage; the group stalled, some were ready to question but he blasted, ‘Move!’

As the officers descended the path towards the bothy, Valentine rebuffed the offer of a rifle and DS McNeil continued on with one gun strapped over each shoulder.

‘I don’t want you to fire that unless it’s a matter of life and death, is that clear?’ said the DI.

‘Yes, sir.’

The path was narrow and rutted. Gnarled roots from adjacent trees impeded the way and a damp covering from earlier rain made the going slippy underfoot. As he reached the corner of the bothy Valentine directed McNeil towards a gap in the adjoining fence where he could reach a rusting plough for cover, he jogged on and signalled a thumbs up to say he had secured a view of the open doorway.

‘Christ this is hardcore, Bob,’ said Martin.

‘You’re not kidding.’

‘If I’d known we were going to end up playing commandos in the wilds I’d have packed the Kevlar vests.’

‘Bet you didn’t imagine we’d be doing this when you sat down to your cornflakes this morning?’

‘No I did not. If I had, it wouldn’t have been milk I was splashing on them, I can assure you of that.’ Martin wiped some mud splashes away from the elbow of her jacket. ‘Right, what are you thinking?’

‘I’m going to make my way round the building, when I get close enough to the open door at the front I’m going to try and engage with them.’

‘That’s your plan, is it?’

‘Got a better one?’

She narrowed her gaze towards the bothy. ‘Sit tight and wait for the proper back-up.’

‘Not an option. It’s going to be dark in about forty minutes, there’s potentially a hostage or two in there, we can’t take the risk.’

She baulked, ‘And this isn’t a risk?’

Valentine didn’t answer. He crouched below the line of the window on the bothy’s gable end and started to feel his way around the outside of the building, his heart ramped and a damp line of sweat formed on his forehead. As he turned he spotted the chief super with the back of her head resting on the wall, eyes skywards; he hoped she was praying.

The DI heard movement inside the building, he tried to assess the number of people but it was impossible. There were words, a man’s voice, he seemed to be pleading, his tone rising and falling with increasing desperation. There was also crying, it sounded like a woman’s voice, or perhaps a young girl’s.

As he reached the open doorway of the bothy Valentine peered round the edge, ignoring that a bullet might meet him. The interior was in almost complete darkness, only a little light coming in from the small case and sash window on the other side of the building. When the sun finally receded, the place would be in complete darkness. From his own knowledge of bothies, there wasn’t likely to be an electric light source. If there was, surely they would have used it by now. He reasoned that it was unlikely they had candles or a torch and so darkness was definitely a fast approaching possibility. With a gun in the room, and a jumpy, captive party, the consequences of any attempt to use the diminishing light as cover could be tragic.

Valentine positioned himself on his haunches, started to remove his jacket and tie; the pinstripe jacket was a present from Clare that made him long for his family. As he rolled up the sleeves, folded the jacket away, he hoped he’d be putting it on again soon. At the doorway the DI leaned in – his only hope was establishing contact as quickly as possible. ‘Hello, can I have your attention, please …’

There was no reply.

‘My name is Detective Inspector Bob Valentine of Police Scotland … can we talk, please?’

The reply was direct, roared straight from the gut: ‘Go to hell!’

‘I’m afraid that’s not going to be an option, not immediately anyway.’

‘I’m warning you, bugger off now or you’ll regret it.’ The voice belonged to a young man, his accent was not as pronounced as Leask’s had sounded back at the hotel, but it was definitely Ayrshire.

‘Am I talking to Grant Finnie?’

The same voice replied. ‘No. I told you to do one, now get lost.’

Movement, bodies shuffling towards the door, was heard inside. Another voice shouted, ‘He has a gun.’

‘Grant, stop it,’ a young girl screamed. ‘He’ll shoot again, don’t … don’t.’

‘You’re bloody right I’ll use it, get back.’

The noise of shuffling feet came again, then the interior was lit with a flash and gunshot blasted off the walls.

‘Don’t shoot,’ yelled Valentine. ‘Please, put the gun down, we can talk this through without the gun.’

The girl’s tears sounded heavier now, a confusion of voices moved inside the bothy. Scuffles, shoes scraping on hard, bare floors. A tense rush towards the deeper recesses of the building followed.

‘There’s nothing to talk about,’ the man’s voice came again, this time Valentine deduced it was a maddened Darry Millar. ‘All the talking’s been done.’

‘Darry, come on, put down the gun and come outside. We can sort this out, it’s not too late, trust me.’

‘Trust you? You’re bloody filth, where were you when my sister was raped? Same place my supposed best mate was, nowhere to be seen.’

Finnie spoke up: ‘Darry, I told you, I did all I could. I said I’d sort it and I did.’

‘How? She’s pregnant, that bastard raped her and now she’s having his baby.’

Jade’s tears became hysterical, broke into deep sobs. ‘Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.’

‘But he paid, didn’t he?’ said Finnie.

‘He paid and the filth have my mother for it, she’s going to get put away for that bastard.’

Valentine tried to intervene again, the situation was slipping out of control. The men inside the bothy were agitated and the girl was getting hysterical. ‘Darry, you’ve got it all wrong. Now come on, give me the gun and let us talk this through properly.’

‘Shut it, filth!’ He fired the gun again, this time the shot left the building, leaving a burst of smoke evacuating through the doorway with it.

The DI looked out into the ebbing light, he saw CS Martin peering round the corner, she was frantically waving her arms about, flagging him to withdraw, begging a retreat. He turned away. Beyond the path leading to the mountain ranges he saw the last bursts of daylight chinking in the burn. It was a beautiful sight, in the blue-black sky above, the winding waters and the humped backs of the hills. There were worse places to die. He stood up and headed for the doorway, leaving behind the hard breathing and heavy pounding of his heart that had kept him back.

As Valentine marched into the bothy and faced Darry Millar the gun was levelled at his heart.

‘You want some of this?’ said Darry.

‘What good’s that going to do you?’ said Valentine. ‘More importantly, what good’s that going to do Jade?’

‘I’m warning you, I’ll shoot.’

‘Darry, think about it.’ The strength of his voice emboldened him. ‘You’re all she’s got now, don’t make this any worse for Jade. If you get put away she’s got nobody.’

Jade called out. ‘Listen to him. Darry put down the gun.’

‘I’m in charge here, I’ll decide what happens with the gun.’ He walked towards Finnie, pushing the gun in his face. ‘I trusted you like you were my own brother. You said you’d look after Jade. She didn’t have a dad, only me. You were supposed to be there for her …’

‘I was. You don’t understand.’

‘You and Tulloch, eh, what really went on in Helmand? Why did you really get punted out of the army? The pair of you, like best mates together.’

‘No. It wasn’t like that, you know that. He followed me to Ayr, he blamed me because I reported him. He did it in Helmand too, but the girl was shot, everyone knew it … Even you knew it, how can you pretend otherwise?’

‘I don’t know what I know anymore. I lost everything the night Jade called to say Tulloch was dead. I took off that night, ran out on the army, because somebody had to sort it, but I couldn’t because he’d already raped her. I was too late … and now look at the mess.’

‘But I sorted it for you, Darry. Can’t you even see that? I sorted everything.’

‘She was wandering the streets, crying. Look at her, still crying. She’s cried every day since because she can’t see my mother and now she never will. The mother we knew died that night too. She killed Tulloch but do you think the courts will care why?’

‘She didn’t kill him,’ said Finnie.

‘She did. Read the papers, it’s there in black and white … They have her locked up already.’