Macbeth picked up the piece of paper again.
The days crawl in the mud, and in the end all they have accomplished is to kill the sun again and bring all men closer to death.
41
The lift took Duff, Malcolm and the caretaker down to the basement at police HQ.
‘I know it’s a weekend, but are you sure there isn’t anyone else here?’ Duff said to the caretaker, whom Malcolm had spoken to at length on the phone from Tourtell’s house.
‘On the contrary,’ the caretaker answered. ‘They’re waiting for you.’
Duff was unable to react before the lift arrived and the doors opened in front of him. Three people were there, all armed and dressed in the black SWAT uniform. Duff held his breath.
‘Thank you,’ Malcolm said. ‘For coming at such short notice.’
‘For the town,’ said one of them.
‘For Angus,’ said the second.
‘For the chief commissioner,’ said the third, an erect, dark-skinned man. ‘In our book his name is now Malcolm.’
‘Thank you, Ricardo,’ Malcolm said, exiting the lift.
The stiff-backed officer led the way. ‘Have you spoken to anyone else, sir?’
‘I’ve been on the phone all evening. It shouldn’t be easy to persuade people to risk their lives and jobs to fight against a conspiracy they only have my word for. Especially when I add that we cannot expect any immediate help from Capitol. However, I have around thirty officers from the police, ten to fifteen from Civil Defence and maybe ten from the Fire Service.’
‘The case may not sound very convincing, but you are, Malcolm.’
‘Thank you, Ricardo, but I think Macbeth’s actions speak for themselves.’
‘I wasn’t thinking about your words, sir. Your courage speaks louder.’
‘I had everything taken from me and didn’t have much to lose, Ricardo. Nevertheless I had to come back and fetch my daughter, who has been taken to safety now. It’s you who show courage. You’re not controlled by a father’s heart, you’re acting freely, governed by your own sense of justice. Which proves that in this town there are people who want what is good.’
They passed the dragon flag.
‘And where’s the mayor?’ Ricardo asked.
‘He’s got other things on his mind at the moment.’
Ricardo stopped in front of a massive iron door, like the entrance to an air-raid shelter. It was open. ‘Here.’
The shelves inside were laden with iron boxes and firearms. In the middle of the floor there was a safe. Malcolm took one of the machine guns from a shelf.
‘Someone’s taken the Gatling guns and their ammo,’ Ricardo said. ‘So this is all we have. Plus an armoured car. I can have it brought down to the central station straight away. There aren’t enough guns for everyone, but the firemen don’t have any weapon training anyway. My men and I can strike tonight, though.’
‘We’d far prefer Macbeth to surrender voluntarily,’ Malcolm said. ‘The numbers tell us he probably has two men with him: Seyton and Olafson. When he sees how many we’ve mobilised outside I hope he will release Kasi and capitulate.’
‘Negotiations.’ Ricardo nodded. ‘Modern tactics in hostage situations.’
‘Precisely.’
‘Modern and useless, as far as Macbeth is concerned. I’ve had him as a boss, sir. He has the two best marksmen in the country and two Gatling guns on his side. While we have very little time.’
‘What can you do against two Gatling guns?’ Malcolm asked, taking down a bazooka.
Duff stiffened. He had seen what was behind the bazooka.
‘It’s not very accurate over a long distance,’ Ricardo said. ‘But I’d be happy to draw up a plan of how we can take the Inverness if Macbeth won’t surrender.’
‘Good,’ Malcolm said, looking at what Duff had found. ‘Jesus, where’s that from?’
‘The ruins after the raid on the Norse Riders,’ Ricardo said. ‘It’s a weapon, even if it’s only a sabre.’
‘It’s not just any sabre,’ Duff said, gripping the handle tightly. He swung it and felt the weight of the steel. ‘It’s Sweno’s sabre.’
‘You’re not thinking of taking it, are you? It can’t do any harm.’
‘Wrong.’ Duff ran his forefinger over the blade. ‘It can slice open women’s stomachs and children’s faces.’
Malcolm turned to Ricardo. ‘Can you have the weapons transported to the central station an hour before sunrise?’
‘Consider it done.’
‘Thank you. Let’s see if the rest of us can catch a couple of hours’ shut-eye?’
‘Sir?’
Macbeth lifted his head from Lady’s cold chest and looked up. It was Jack. He had returned and was standing in the doorway.
‘There’s someone down in reception who’d like to talk to you.’
‘Have you let s-s-someone in?’
‘He’s alone and he kept knocking. I had to let him in. And now he doesn’t want to go away.’
‘Who is it?’
‘A young man by the name of Sivart.’
‘Sivart?’
‘He says you saved his life down by the quay during the raid on the Norse Riders.’
‘Oh, the hostage. Wh-wh-what does he want?’
‘To volunteer. He says he’s been contacted by Malcolm, and Malcolm is getting people together to launch an attack on the Inverness.’
‘Then,’ Macbeth said, resting his head back on Lady’s chest and closing his eyes, ‘t-t-tell him to go.’
‘He won’t, sir.’
Macbeth sighed heavily, got to his feet and held out a hand. ‘Lend me the gun I gave you, Jack.’
They went down to reception, where the young man was nervously waiting. From the stairs Macbeth pointed the gun at him. ‘Out!’
‘Chief Commissioner...’ the man stammered.
‘Out! You’ve been sent by Malcolm to kill me. Now out!’
‘No, no, I...’
‘Now! I’ll count to three! One...’
The man stumbled backwards, grabbed the door handle, but it was locked.
‘Two!’
Jack rushed forward with the key and helped the man to open the door.
‘Three!’
The door slammed behind the man and they heard running footsteps fade in the distance.
‘Do you really think he—’
‘No,’ Macbeth said, handing back the gun to Jack. ‘But a young man like him here would have just got in the way.’
‘There aren’t many of you, and he’s the same age as Olafson, sir.’
‘Have you done what I asked you to do, Jack?’
‘I’m still doing it, sir.’
‘Tell me when you’ve finished. I’m in the gaming room.’
Macbeth opened the double doors to the casino. The night grew old and grey behind the tall windows to the east.
42
The sun was hidden behind the mountain, but it had sent a red harbinger of its arrival. Inspector Lennox thought he had never seen a finer daybreak in the town. Or perhaps he had, but had never noticed it. Or perhaps it was the morphine more than the sun that coloured everything. The streets were adorned with smashed beer bottles, stinking piles of spew and cigarette ends after a lively Saturday night, but no one was about, only a little man in a black maritime uniform and white hat, who hurried past them. Everyone else, as the town’s fate was decided, lay at home in bed with the blankets pulled over their heads. And despite this he had never seen his town looking more beautiful.