‘Where do you think we’re going?’ McGuire asked.
‘God knows. Could be the bloody football. Is it Hearts or Hibs at home today?’
‘Oh, aye, and was that their half-time piece that Harvey loaded into the boot? Anyway, I hardly see the wee man as a rabid Hibs fan? No, it could be they’re heading for the Bridge. Will I call in?’
Maggie nodded and handed him the car-phone. He punched in Martin’s home number. A girl’s voice answered.
‘Hello, miss. Is Chief Inspector Martin in?’
‘He’s shaving. Hold on, I’ll call him. Andy!’ A second later she came back on the line. ‘Sorry, who’s that?’ McGuire introduced himself. ‘It’s DC McGuire,’ she called. ‘Sounds as if he’s travelling.’
A few seconds later Martin came to the telephone. ‘Hi, Mario. What’s up?’ McGuire explained. And as he did so his earlier guess was proved right. The Toyota headed for the Forth Road Bridge. Maggie followed tucked behind a maroon Sierra, from which a green and white football scarf trailed.
‘One other thing, sir. Joy bought a hell of a load of groceries this morning, and they loaded more than half of them into the car before they left.’
‘Okay, Mario, that’s good work. Call when you get where you’re going. I’ll wait here for you.’ His tone changed as he spoke away from the phone. ‘Sorry, Janie. Can’t be helped.’
Then he was back. ‘I’ll call Brian Mackie and tell him that the caravan’s on the move. Tell Maggie not to let them twig her.’
‘Would you like to tell her yourself, sir?’
Martin laughed. ‘No, maybe not. Good luck.’ He hung up and checked Mackie’s home number. The DI took some time to answer the call. When he did so he sounded as if he was rubbing the sleep from his voice. But he snapped awake quickly as Martin explained.
‘Stay by your phone, Brian, until we can establish where they’re going. Call your mate and have him ready in case you have to move fast. And when you do head out, make sure you have a full tank. You’ll be heading north, but at the moment it could be anywhere.’
There was no answer from Stockbridge when he called Skinner. He dialled Gullane, and Sarah answered. Bob, she said, had gone for a short-notice round of golf. Martin told her what had happened.
‘I’ll call the boss when they arrive wherever they’re going. Pending further instructions, I’ll do no more than maintain the surveillance. So long.’
He put the telephone back in its cradle and turned back to Janie. ‘Might as well put on a record. We could be here for a while.’
72
And then the telephone rang.
‘Oh, fuck!’ Andy swore only in moments of extreme stress.
‘Not until you answer that bloody thing!’ She rolled away, reached out an arm and handed him the telephone.
Maggie Rose spoke. ‘We’ve arrived, sir. We’re in Earlsferry, in the East Neuk of Fife. The Harveys seem to have a weekend cottage here. McGuire called directory enquiries. They’re on the phone here. The house is called Earl’s Cottage. It’s on the beach.
‘It’ll be difficult to keep it under observation, and impossible from the car. But we can get a clear view from the beach. There are hardly any people about. Most of the houses must be holiday places; there’s no sign of life in any of them. No lights, no smoke from the chimneys.’
‘How long have you been there?’
‘Ten minutes, no more. Mario’s down watching the house now.’
‘Can you remember if the Harveys’ house has a chimney?’
‘Yes. It’s a newish place, two storeys. There’s a big picture window upstairs and a big feature chimney up one wall.’
‘Was it smoking when they arrived?’
‘It was, sir, it was! There must be someone else in there!’
‘Steady on, Maggie.’ He swung his feet out of bed and sat on the edge. ‘Don’t get too excited. There could be a local who comes in to light the fire before they arrive. Keep the house under surveillance, and I’ll contact DI Mackie. He and McIlhenney will bring up an overnight bag for you two. They’ll do tonight. You book into a hotel oraBand B or something, and relieve them again in the morning.
‘And, Maggie, book in on a Mr and Mrs basis. Remember this is a secret enquiry. I don’t want you looking out of the ordinary, and any couple booking separate rooms in a place like Earlsferry on a Saturday in winter will surely do that.’
Maggie snorted at the other end of the line. ‘McGiure’s just going to love that!’
‘You can handle it, Sergeant. Pull rank on him if you have to.’
‘Rank isn’t all I’ll pull!’ The line went dead.
73
Earlsferry sits alongside Elie on a wide bay which looks across the Firth of Forth to the beaches and hills of East Lothian. The gloaming of late afternoon had begun to obscure the coast opposite when Maggie Rose rejoined McGuire.
He was seated on a bench, his left arm looped along its back, ostensibly looking out to sea while covering the only exit from the Harvey cottage. He was in view himself from the far side of the picture window on the upper level of the house. Twice he had seen Joy Harvey framed in the glass.
Maggie sat down beside him and linked her arm through his. She relayed Martin’s orders. McGuire smiled awkwardly, surprisingly embarrassed
‘Huh,’ she said, ‘you might show a bit more enthusiasm.’ She pulled him to her and spoke into his ear. ‘Let’s try to play the part. Any sign of movement from up there?’
McGuire looked over her shoulder. ‘Damn all. I’ve seen her a couple of times, but no one else. We’re a bit open here, but we can see the gate. What do we do if they go out, split up?’
‘No we’ll have to stick together. We’re here as a couple, so we can’t keep dashing off in opposite directions all the time.’
‘I thought that’s what real couples did!’
74
Maggie and McGuire were no longer on their bench when Mackie and McIlhenney appeared, moving quietly down the lane, each clad in dark donkey jackets over thick polo-necked sweaters and police uniform trousers. They moved carefully in the dark, looking first towards the house, then at the moonlit beach.
‘Here, sir.’ Maggie Rose’s voice came from behind a clump of sand dunes. She and McGuire had moved from the beach as darkness had approached, to a point from which they could view both lane and house, without being seen from either.
Mackie and McIlhenney sat on the sand beside them. McIlhenney laid a brown paper carrier bag against the dune. ‘Thermoses and sandwiches, he explained to McGuire, who said nothing, but reached into the bag and brought out a half bottle of OVD rum.
‘What’s this then, hair tonic?’
‘It’s okay for you pair,’ McIlhenney grumbled. ‘We’re here a’ night.
‘No action?’ Mackie asked.
‘No, sir,’ said Maggie. ‘The upstairs curtains have been half drawn, like you see them now, since about four-thirty. The room’s dimly lit so we’ve only seen figures moving about; only two as far as we’ve been able to tell. No one’s been out since they arrived. The car’s never moved.
‘Do you want us to hang about for a while in case they get off their mark?’
‘No, Maggie, that’s all right. It’s after eight now. They’re not going back to Cumbernauld tonight. If they decide to go to the pub we’ll jus let them get on with it, unless more than two of them come out.
‘Your case is in the boot of my car. It’s parked behind yours. Which hotel will you be in, if we do need to contact you?’