"Dinnae greet," said Archie. "It's all ower. We got them all."
When he and Olivia were free, Hamish massaged his wrists and said, "How did you know?"
"It was herself, Angela, Mrs. Brodie. You said something to her about a black sheep that had to be put down and herself kenned you didnae have a black sheep and she thought they looked a lot o' villains so she rushes into the Lochdubh bar shouting you've been shanghaied. Then she goes running around the village, calling the folks out o' their houses. Man, I had a rare time. It wass like the movies."
The boat began to move again. "David Queen is at the wheel o' my fishing boat," said Archie. "He's towing us in." Suddenly the sound of the engine cut.
"What now?" asked Hamish nervously.
"Och, he'll have stopped to pull the skipper o' this boat out of the water."
Sure enough, there came cries and then the thump of someone being hauled on deck. Then the engine started up again.
"Davie Queens been on the ship-to-shore radio to tell folks you're all right. Who's your leddy?"
"This is Detective Chief Inspector Chater from Glasgow, Archie."
"My, my, imagine a bonny wee lassie like yourself getting mixed up with killers like thon.' What you need is a nice man like Hamish here to marry and have some bairns. I wass chust saying the other day to the wife, it's time our Hamish got married."
Hamish's face flamed scarlet. "Drop it, Archie. You're a worse danger than Jimmy White."
Olivia was standing on the deck beside Hamish as they approached the harbour at Lochdubh. The harbour was crowded. It looked as if the whole village had turned out.
A great cheer went up as Hamish and Olivia walked up the weedy stone steps to the harbour.
Hamish hoped he wouldn't cry. They were all there: Angela and her husband, Dr. Brodie, the Currie sisters, minister Mr. Wellington and his large tweedy wife.
Hamish went straight up and gave Angela a hug. "You're a clever girl," he said.
"I knew something was wrong when you talked about that black sheep," said Angela, "and your poor girlfriend looked frightened to death."
For the first time in her career, Olivia felt reduced in status.
"We had better go straight to police headquarters, Macbeth," she snapped, "after we have seen Jimmy and his associates taken away."
Angela gave her a look of dislike. "Who's she?" she asked Hamish.
"Detective Inspector Chater."
"Oh, really? Doesn't the word 'thank you' enter her vocabulary?"
Olivia felt ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry," she said to Angela. "I owe you my life, and Archie."
"You can thank them later," said Hamish. "Let's go to the police station and phone."
"What happened?" cried Angela, and several voices added theirs to hers, demanding to know the story.
Olivia, who was still shaking with fright and nerves, could only marvel at the calm way Hamish told the story of their abduction. The crowd was silent, hanging on every word. Although she far outranked Hamish, she had to wait patiently, because this was Lochdubh, where Hamish Macbeth was king.
"We all know drug money corrupts," said the chief constable heavily.
It was early evening. The table in the conference room at police headquarters was surrounded by top brass. Hamish and Olivia sat side by side at the end of the table.
"I cannot see how word could have possibly leaked out," said Daviot. "I think someone recognised Macbeth and told Lachie."
"Who was Callum Short?" asked Hamish suddenly.
They all looked at him.
"The man who was strangled and thrown in the harbour."
"Why?" asked Daviot.
"Because it is just possible he might have been the informant. It's just a hunch."
Detective Jimmy Anderson was there. "We checked up on him. He was a small-time villain."
Blair stared at the table. He longed for a drink but there was only Perrier water. Thank God he had played his snouts close to his chest. He had destroyed the book with the names of his informants and had replaced it with a new record without Callum's name.
"I asked for a photograph to be sent to the hotel. Was it ever sent?"
"I'll find out," said Daviot, and nodded to his secretary, who went out of the room.
"Despite all that, the operation has been a great success," said Daviot. "Jimmy White arrested and the others being rounded up."
The representatives of the Glasgow police talked at length about how their troops were being massed for dawn raids on several addresses.
Daviot's secretary, Helen, came back in. "Well?" demanded Daviot.
"The photographs and the file on Callum Short are missing," she said.
"What about the computer log?"
"There's nothing on that."
"What!" exclaimed Jimmy Anderson. "There was first thing this morning because I looked it up myself."
"This could mean that someone in headquarters leaked the information about the scam to Callum and Callum tried to sell it," said Hamish.
Blair could feel sweat trickling down inside his shirt.
"We'll need to start a full investigation," said Daviot.
"If I could make a suggestion." Hamish Macbeth again. Blair suppressed a groan. "If this Callum was selling information, then he would go to Lachie at the disco, and to get to Lachie, he would ask the bartender."
"Hasn't the bartender been picked up?" asked Daviot.
Jimmy Anderson shook his head. "He's disappeared."
"Then we'll need to find out from the young people who were there if anyone answering Callum's description was seen in Lachie's," said Olivia.
"We'll do that."
When they were back in their hotel room, Hamish said flatly, "I've a damn good idea who's behind the tip-off."
"Who?"
"Blair. Detective Chief Inspector Blair. He's aye hated my guts and saw this as a way to get rid of me."
"Surely not. But if those are your suspicions, you must tell Daviot."
"Waste of time. He won't listen. Not unless I have some concrete proof."
"There will be a thorough investigation. If Blair's guilty, then they'll get him."
"Maybe, but I doubt it. He'll be covering his tracks all over the place. Well, we've got two weeks' leave. I'm going back to Lochdubh in the morning and then I'll start looking into Tommy Jarret's death again. Want to come with me?"
She hesitated and then suddenly smiled. "I'd like that."
"I don't think anyone they've arrested is going to say anything about Tommy's death," said Hamish. "They know they wouldn't last long in prison if they talked. Do you want anything more to eat? That buffet supper at headquarters wasn't very filling."
"No, I'm all right. I'm very tired. I think I'll go to bed."
Later they lay in their twin beds in the darkness. Olivia rubbed her wrists, which still hurt from the wire. She closed her eyes but terror seized her. She was once more in that boat, tied up, without hope.
"Hamish.'" she wailed.
He came to her and got in beside her in the narrow bed and folded his arms about her. "Hush," he said. "It's all right. Hamish is here," and he cradled her like a child until she fell asleep.
In the morning, Blair sought an audience with Daviot.
"Good heavens," said Daviot. "You look a wreck."
Blair was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, and he looked as if he had slept in his clothes.
"I want your advice, sir," said Blair humbly.
"Of course."
"The fact is, sir, I'm having trouble with the drink. Och, why beat about the bush. I'm an alcoholic."
"Are you sure? We all like our dram."
"The pressure of work has been making it worse," said Blair. "There's this rehab in Inverness which can take me for six weeks to get me cured. I would like to go there as soon as possible."
Daviot was touched. "Of course you can go. You are too valuable an officer to lose. You were quite right to come to me. A lot of famous people are alcoholics and take the cure," said the superintendent, naively convinced that there was a cure for alcoholism. "Keep in touch with us about how you are getting on. I was going to discuss our investigations into how Jimmy White got tipped off, but I think you need a break from it all." "I do, I do," said Blair fervently.