‘I didn’t think gangs like the Norse Riders left their injured for the enemy.’
‘They knew they would get medical aid faster. They’re being treated now, but we’re expecting to get more in custody tomorrow. And then they’ll be questioned about Sweno. However much pain they’re in. We’ll find him, sir.’
‘Fine. Four and a half tons of amphetamine. That’s a lot,’ said Duncan.
‘It is indeed.’ Duff smiled.
‘So much that you almost have to ask yourself why you didn’t inform me about the stake-out beforehand.’
‘Time,’ Duff replied quickly. He had weighed up the pros and cons of how to answer the inevitable question. ‘There wasn’t enough time between receiving the tip-off and going into action. As head of the unit I had to assess procedural regulations against the risk of not preventing four and a half tons of amphetamines from reaching the youths in this town.’
Duff met Duncan’s eyes, which were contemplating him. The chief commissioner’s index finger stroked the point of his chin to and fro. Then he moistened his lips.
‘There’s a lot of blood too. A lot of damage to the bridge. The fish in the river are probably already junkies. And Sweno’s still on the loose.’
Duff cursed inwardly. The hypocritical, arrogant fool must be capable of seeing the bigger picture.
‘But,’ said the chief commissioner, ‘six Norse Riders are in custody. And even if we do feel a little more invigorated than usual when eating fish over the next few weeks, better that than the dope ending up in our young people. Or—’ Duncan grabbed his champagne glass ‘—in Seized Goods.’
Lennox and Caithness laughed. It was well known that the HQ warehouse was still unaccountably losing goods.
‘So,’ Duncan said, raising his glass, ‘good police work, Duff.’
Duff blinked twice. His heart beat quickly and lightly. ‘Thank you,’ he said, draining his glass.
Duncan snatched the leather folder. ‘This is on me.’ He took the bill, held it at arm’s length and squinted. ‘Although I can’t see if I’ve been given the right bill.’
‘Who has!’ Lennox said with a stiff smile when no one laughed.
‘Let me,’ Caithness said, taking the bill and putting on her horn-rimmed granny glasses, which Duff knew she didn’t need but wore because she thought they added a couple of years to her age and detracted from her appearance. Duncan had been brave to give Caithness the Forensic Unit. Not because anyone doubted her professional competence — she had been the best cadet at her police college and had also studied chemistry and physics — but she was younger than any of the other unit heads, single and simply too good-looking for suspicion of ulterior motives not to creep in. The candle flames made the water in her laughing eyes behind the glasses, the moisture of her full red lips and the wetness of her shining white teeth sparkle. Duff closed his eyes. The gleaming shine of the tarmac, the sound of tyres on the wet road. The spattering sound. The blood that had splashed to the floor when the man had pulled the dagger from his neck. It was a like a hand squeezing Duff’s chest, and he opened his eyes with a gasp.
‘Everything OK?’ Lennox held a carafe of water over Duff’s glass, and the dregs splashed in. ‘Drink, Duff, so that you can dilute the champagne. You have to drive now.’
‘No question of that,’ Duncan said. ‘I don’t want my heroes arrested for drunk driving or killed on the road. My driver wouldn’t object to a little detour.’
‘Thank you,’ Duff said. ‘But Fife’s—’
‘—more or less on my way home,’ Duncan said. ‘And it’s Mrs Duff and your two wonderful children who should thank me.’
‘Excuse me,’ Duff said, pushing his chair back and standing up.
‘A stupendous police officer,’ Lennox said as he watched Duff stagger towards the toilet door at the back of the room.
‘Duff?’ Duncan queried.
‘Him too, but I was thinking about Macbeth. His results are impressive, his men love him, and even though he worked under Kenneth, we in the Anti-Corruption Unit know he’s rock solid. It’s a pity he doesn’t have the formal qualifications necessary for a higher management post.’
‘There’s no requirement to have anything higher than police college. Look at Kenneth.’
‘Yes, but Macbeth still isn’t one of us.’
‘Us?’
‘Well,’ Lennox lifted his champagne glass with a wry smile, ‘you’ve chosen heads who — whether we like it or not — are seen as belonging to the elite. We all come from the western side of town or Capitol, have an education or a respectable family name. Macbeth is seen more as someone from the broader ranks of the populace, if you know what I mean.’
‘I do. Listen, I’m a bit worried about Duff’s unsteadiness on his feet. Could you...?’
Fortunately the toilet was empty.
Duff did up his flies, stood by one of the sinks, turned on a tap and splashed water over his face. He heard the door go behind him.
‘Duncan asked me to check how you were,’ Lennox said.
‘Mm. What do you think he thought?’
‘Thought about what?’
Duff grabbed a paper and dried his face. ‘About... how things went.’
‘He probably thinks what we all think: you did a good job.’
Duff nodded.
Lennox chuckled. ‘You really do want the Organised Crime job, don’t you.’
Duff turned off the tap and soaped his hands while looking at the head of Anti-Corruption in the mirror.
‘You mean I’m a climber?’
‘Nothing wrong with climbing the ladder.’ Lennox smirked. ‘It’s just amusing to see how you position yourself.’
‘I’m qualified, Lennox. So isn’t it simply my duty to this town and my and your children’s future to do what I can for Organised Crime? Or should I leave the biggest unit to Cawdor? A person we both know must have both dirty and bloody hands to have survived under Kenneth for as long as he did.’
‘Aha,’ Lennox said. ‘It’s duty that drives you? Not personal ambition at all. Well, St Duff, let me hold the door open for you.’ Lennox performed a deep bow. ‘I presume you will refuse the salary increase and other concomitant privileges.’
‘The salary, honour and fame are irrelevant to me,’ Duff said. ‘But society rewards those who contribute. Showing contempt for the salary would be like showing contempt for society.’ He studied his face in the mirror. How can you see when a person is lying? Is it possible when the person in question has succeeded in convincing himself that what he says is the truth? How long would it take him to convince himself that it was the truth, the version he and Macbeth had arranged to give of how they had killed the two men on the road?
‘Have you finished washing your hands now, Duff? I think Duncan wants to go home.’
The SWAT men took their leave of each other outside the Bricklayers Arms. ‘Loyalty, fraternity,’ Macbeth said in a loud voice.
The others answered him in slurred, to varying degrees, unison: ‘Baptised in fire, united in blood.’
Then they walked away in every direction of the compass. Macbeth and Banquo to the west, past a street musician who was howling rather than singing ‘Meet Me On The Corner’ and through the deserted run-down concourses and corridors of the central station. A strangely warm wind picked up through the passages and swept litter between the once beautiful Doric pillars crumbling after years of pollution and lack of maintenance.
‘Now,’ Banquo said. ‘Are you going to tell me what really happened?’
‘You tell me about the lorry and Kenneth,’ Macbeth said. ‘Ninety-metre free fall!’ His laughter resounded beneath the brick ceiling.