‘You said they were making a point?’ said Dewar.
‘They were showing Tulloch who was really in control,’ replied Grant. ‘They’ve taken over this whole area now and it won’t be easy to get them out.’
‘But why?’ asked Dewar.
‘God, they don’t need a reason. Their natural loathing for any kind of authority is enough. When you combine that with instinctive animal cunning and a situation like they’ve got down there, it’s a recipe for disaster. Evil rules OK.’
‘But the ordinary people living in this area,’ said Dewar. ‘What about them?’
‘They’ve just had a change of government,’ said Grant. ‘Fear is now the ruling currency. They’ll do what the yobs tell them or they’ll be taking flying lessons from the balconies in the flats.’
‘What a mess,’ said Dewar.
‘I think it was always going to be that,’ said Grant.
DAY SEVEN
The army was called in at 3am to take over manning the barriers so that more police officers would be available to patrol the streets. The soldiers — infantry from Redford Barracks on the south west side of the city, had been on full alert since the decision to go for physical containment had been taken. Their officers, now familiar with street lay-out of the area after several days studying maps supplied by the local authorities, had impressed upon their men the delicacy of the operation. Their role was to maintain the integrity of the line, nothing more. Their presence was to be kept as low-key as possible.
They moved quietly and efficiently into position when called upon and took over manning of the barriers with a minimum of fuss. One police officer was retained at each barrier site to liaise between civilians and the military should this prove necessary. In the event, the barriers were not challenged to any significant degree during the night.
In the estate itself, sporadic outbursts of violence continued into the small hours with stolen cars being set alight and police vehicles attacked with bottles and stones. Windows were broken, street lighting damaged and an electricity sub-station put out of action so that two tower blocks were plunged into darkness with no prospect of repair until order had been restored. Two policemen were injured by flying glass and four youths taken into custody. It should have been many more but police confidence had taken a pounding.
Things quietened down around six in the morning when the first streaks of daylight in the eastern sky signalled an end to the night and called a natural halt to the proceedings. As with so many things in life, a new day heralded a new beginning.
Tulloch looked as if he had aged ten years overnight when he arrived at the Scottish Office. There were dark circles under his eyes and such an air of weariness about him that Dewar thought he might well be ill or injured. Pride made him insist he was just tired but his eyes showed signs of defeat. He had badly misjudged the situation. His earlier success had encouraged him to think that he’d established a natural respect for law and order and he could come down hard on any troublemakers. Zero tolerance had been the wrong option to go for. The yobs hadn’t read the same text book he had. They’d just been waiting for night to fall.
The team was joined this morning by Major Tim Hardy, the officer commanding the troops from Redford Barracks. Although it had been left to the team to decide when troops should be called in, they had been briefed at the outset of the outbreak and their ‘terms of engagement’ decided by Scottish Office ministers. Hardy reported that his orders were to hold the line using minimum force at all times. His men were to remain strictly outside the affected area, leaving matters of civilian law and order to the police. He looked towards Tulloch who avoided his gaze.
‘What exactly is the position this morning?’ Finlay asked Tulloch, who was now gratefully nursing a mug of black coffee, using it to warm his hands as well as his insides.
‘We’ve had to concede control of about one third of the containment area.’
There was a stunned silence in the room. Tulloch continued, ‘There came a point when I though it best, in the interests of keeping casualties to a minimum, that my men retreat and set up lines of containment outside the epicentre of the trouble..’
Finlay asked, ‘Are you saying that we now have a containment area within the containment area?’
‘If you want to put it that way.’
‘You’re saying we now have a no-go area within Muirhouse?’ said Dewar.
Tulloch nodded. ‘You’d think the bastards had been planning this for years,’ he said bitterly.
Mary Martin looked puzzled. She seemed to have difficulty formulating her question. ‘Am I being stupid or are you saying that with things as they are, none of us can reach the population inside this area?’ she asked, making a sweeping gesture over part of the map on the table.
‘I’m saying that my officers cannot guarantee the safety of anyone entering this part of the estate. In fact we’d have to advise strongly against it.’
‘So the yobs are running the show,’ stated Mary.
Tulloch looked down at the table.
‘And the contacts? How do my people reach them? And the social service teams? And the vaccine when it arrives. How do we set up vaccination centres in an area controlled by a mob? What exactly do we do now, Superintendent?’
Tulloch took a deep breath. ‘I fully understand your concern but regaining control of the area would mean a full frontal assault involving hundreds of officers in full riot gear. Flushing out the opposition on home ground would almost certainly be very costly in terms of police and possibly innocent civilian casualties.’
‘It has to be done,’ said Wright. ‘The people in there must be vaccinated as soon as it becomes available.’
‘Perhaps the army?’ suggested Mary Martin tentatively.’
‘Only as a last resort,’ said Finlay. ‘The Scottish Office wasn’t that keen on bringing troops in to man the barriers this morning but the situation was such that we just had to. But I think that’s as far as it goes unless something really awful happens.’
‘Couldn’t you send in snatch squads to arrest the ring-leaders?’ George Finlay asked Tulloch. ‘If you know who they are, that is?’
‘Oh yes,’ replied Tulloch. ‘They’re known all right. The same trash are running things just like they seem to run everything else in that God-forsaken place from drug dealing to money lending but proving it is always quite another matter. Asking people to stand up in court and testify against them is like asking the tide to go out on Royston beach. As for sending in a snatch squad, we’re talking about the heart of drug-land here. Steel-reinforced doors and blocked stairways, broken lifts and prams suddenly appearing across your path, teenage mothers yelping about police brutality. Pieces of concrete falling from the flats and more knives than you’d find in the Swiss Army.’
‘My God, as if we didn’t have enough to contend with,’ said Finlay. ‘A riot on top of an epidemic.’
‘The vaccine’s not here yet,’ said Dewar. ‘So we’ve probably got another day to wait. I suggest we leave the police, the politicians and the military to work on the problem of regaining control. When the vaccine finally comes — probably this evening we can decide then what we do next.’
There were no dissenting voices.
‘By the way, Major, are your men armed?’
‘Plastic bullets and only then as a last resort.’