Jenny looked puzzled. ‘It’s not sunny,’ she said unsurely.
‘ Daddy had a bit of an accident yesterday,’ said Steven, squatting down in front of her. He took off his glasses and said, ‘I fell down some stairs.’
‘ Oh,’ said Jenny, putting her hands up to her cheeks. ‘You’re all sore.’
‘ I’ll be all right again in a few days, Nutkin; the main thing is I can take you guys swimming tomorrow just like I promised. Sorry it’s a day late.’
Later, with the children safely off to bed clutching their new books, Richard poured three large whiskies and put another log on the fire. ‘You know, I used to envy you the excitement in your job,’ he said. ‘Now I’m not so sure. Maybe property conveyancing has its good points after all.’
‘ An occasional quibble about the bill is about as rough as it gets,’ agreed Sue. ‘I think I like it that way.’
‘ At the moment you’re making it sound attractive to me too,’ agreed Steven with an attempt at a grin, which immediately changed to a grimace of pain.
‘ You really shouldn’t have come,’ said Sue. ‘The kids would have understood.’
‘ Promises are important,’ said Steven. ‘I’ll take them to the pool tomorrow and then we’ll all feel good.’
‘ If you’re sure’ said Sue.
‘ I won’t be able to get in the water with them: my ribs are strapped. Still, they can do the swimming and I’ll keep watch on them from the side.’
Richard got up and fetched the whisky bottle. ‘You need some more anaesthetic,’ he said, refilling Steven’s glass.
In the morning, Sue set out to disguise the worst of Steven’s bruises with make-up, something that caused much hilarity among the children, but when she’d finished, Steven had to admit that he was now much less likely to attract public attention although he still opted for the dark glasses. Sue and Richard set off on a shopping trip to Glasgow and he drove the children up to Dumfries, happy at hearing their excited chatter in the back of the car and grinning at their exaggerated claims about who could stay under water the longest. Although his ribs were aching, he was a world away from his other life and that felt therapeutic in itself.
Mary was putting the other two through their paces by insisting that they swim through her legs underwater and Steven was thinking how nice childish laughter sounded when his phone rang.
‘ It’s Peter McClintock; where are you?’
‘ Dumfries swimming pool.’
‘ There’s been a development,’ said McClintock.
Steven could tell from his tone it was nothing good. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘ The bastards have come up with a video.’
‘ What kind of video?’ asked Steven.
‘ Let’s just say that you’re the star of the film in question. Well, you and Tracy Manson to be fair to your leading lady.’
‘ But I’ve never met the woman in my life,’ insisted Steven.
‘ You’re going to have a hard time making that stand up in court,’ said McClintock. ‘Mind you, everything else is going to, if you get my meaning.’
‘ Jesus,’ murmured Steven. ‘You’re telling me that I was drugged but I wasn’t unconscious?’
‘ Sounds more like you’re telling me that.’
‘ God, I can’t remember a thing.’
‘ If I had a quid for every time I’ve heard that in court…’ said McClintock. ‘I think you should get back here as soon as you can.’
‘ I’ll drive up tonight,’ said Steven. He clicked off the phone. The good feelings of the day had evaporated.
Steven was ready to leave when Sue and Richard arrived back from Glasgow.
‘ You really should be on sick leave,’ said Sue when Steven told her he’d have to get back to Edinburgh.
‘ I really don’t think that would help right now,’ said Steven. He hugged the kids and promised he would be back as soon as he could manage and that they’d all go swimming again.
‘ And you’ll come in the water next time,’ said Jenny.
‘ You bet,’ said Steven.
The weather was foul all the way back to the capital, with a westerly gale driving rain across the motorway and forcing drivers to constantly correct for the buffeting of the side-wind. Steven was glad to reach the city limits where he decided to go straight across town to Police Headquarters rather than call in first at his hotel. He had to find out what the police had on him.
Steven found Santini sitting in McClintock’s office. This put an immediate chill in the air.
‘ How are you feeling?’ asked McClintock, mainly to break the awkward silence.
‘ Like any other man who’s about to be framed by the police I should think,’ replied Steven, lowering the temperature still further.
Steven saw McClintock close his eyes when he said it.
Santini looked for a moment as if he were about to explode but he reined in his temper and simply said, ‘Show Doctor Dunbar the video, will you, Peter.’
McClintock made to get up from his chair but paused when his computer beeped him with incoming mail. He said, ‘It’s the biochemistry report on Dr Dunbar’s blood. His finger hit the print button.’
McClintock was about to hand the report to Santini when Steven intervened and took it from him, anxiously scanning the contents.
‘ God,’ he said. ‘It’s a wonder I didn’t end up with scrambled eggs for a brain.’ He handed the report back to the policemen who read it in turn.
‘ What’s this in English?’ asked Santini.
‘ The main player is LSD,’ said Steven. ‘With a full supporting cast of three other recreational drugs. They could have killed me.’
‘ This changes nothing,’ said Santini.
‘ What are you talking about, changes nothing?’ said Steven through gritted teeth.
‘ Finding LSD in your blood hardly exonerates you from anything,’ said Santini. ‘The fact that you were stoned out of your mind might well explain the whole episode and might well open the door to further charges in my book.’
‘ Are you for real Santini?’ exploded Steven. ‘Or do they wind you up in the morning with the other toy soldiers?
‘ That’s right, Dunbar, keep digging,’ fumed Santini who had gone bright red in the face. ‘You decide when the hole is deep enough.’ He turned to McClintock and said, ‘Play the video.’
Steven had to sit through an explicit video film of himself making love to a young blonde woman although, to be fair, she was making all the running. He thought the look in his own eyes made him look more like the village idiot — albeit a happy one — than James Bond claiming another conquest.
‘ The unconscious Doctor Dunbar,’ sneered Santini. ‘Or should I say, the narcotically challenged Dr Dunbar… for reasons we have yet to establish.’
Steven let the comment pass.
‘ Should I let it run?’ asked McClintock.
Santini shook his head but to McClintock’s surprise, Steven said, ‘Wait! Don’t stop it.’
Steven was recalling snatches of the dream he thought he’d been having before being beaten up by Verdi’s thugs. In the dream the girl had been almost indescribably beautiful with silken blonde hair and smooth olive skin. In reality the girl astride him in the film looked the part. Her features were coarse beyond her years, her hair was like dyed straw with dark roots and the colour of her skin had been decided by a UV lamp, which her naturally fair skin had not taken too kindly to. There were a couple of angry red patches on her neck and upper back. But there were several other marks on her back that Steven’s attention had been drawn to and these were the reason he’d asked for the film to continue.
‘ He’s about to tell us that it’s not really him in the film,’ said Santini to McClintock with a self-satisfied little smile.
‘ Can you wind it back a little?’ asked Steven.
McClintock did so.
‘ There! Stop there!’
The frame was frozen at a point where the camera was locked on Tracy Manson’s back.
‘ Well, well, well,’ murmured Steven. ‘I was wrong. I said that I’d never come across the woman before in my entire life but I was wrong. I have seen her before.’