‘No need,’ insisted MacLean. ‘I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. He got up to go to the bar but MacFarlane stopped him with a hand on the arm. ‘The very least I can do is buy you a drink,’ he insisted.
MacLean agreed with a smile and MacFarlane went to the bar leaving Leavey and MacLean alone. MacLean asked the question with his eyes and Leavey said, ‘I think he would be useful to have along.’
‘Ex-serviceman?’
‘Ex-safe-breaker.’
‘You’re joking!’
‘I’m perfectly serious,’ said Leavey. ‘Willie can open locked doors with his feet. He sees every lock as a personal challenge and what’s more, he’s moved with the times. As electronic protection systems have got better so has Willie. On one occasion he even managed to break into a safe that was monitored by close-circuit television 24 hours a day.’
‘How did he do that?’
‘He took along a video recorder, cut into the close-circuit cable and recorded the picture. The he connected the video playback to the cable and cut it beyond the join. He emptied the place while the guards watched a video of a closed safe.’
‘Ingenious,’ admitted MacLean but he had doubts about taking MacFarlane along and it showed.
Leavey said, ‘Face it Sean. We can go a long way together but when it comes to breaking into locked buildings equipped with fancy alarm systems we’re going to be babes in the wood. We need someone like Willie.’
‘We don’t know that he’d go,’ said MacLean.
Leavey smiled and said, ‘There are two things in this life that Willie MacFarlane would die for. One of them is Rangers Football Club and the other is you. He’s never forgotten what you did for him out there.’
‘I suppose I should say, I don’t want him coming along out of a sense of obligation, but the truth is, I need this stuff real bad. I’m prepared to play any card I’ve got,’ said MacLean. ‘That’s something you have to consider too.’
Leavey put his hand on MacLean’s arm. ‘I already have.’
MacFarlane returned with the drinks. The bar was beginning to fill up and the sound of male laughter reminded MacLean of his own time on the rigs. The first night back was always something special, a shower, a change of clothes and off to the pub with plenty money in your pocket. Even the married men would come to the pub before going home. Domestic bliss could wait; there was an important male ritual to be observed. The earlier damp smell of the place had given way to after-shave and cigar smoke. Faces were animated: eyes were bright.
MacFarlane did most of the talking at the table, keeping them laughing with a seemingly endless fund of stories from the rigs. Much of the humour was directed against himself and MacLean found himself warming to the man. He noticed that, at intervals, Leavey would slip in a question relating to MacFarlane’s personal circumstances. It was done so cleverly that MacFarlane did not realise that he was being interrogated So far, Leavey had established that he was married but had no children. He had also exposed an undercurrent of bitterness in the man.
After a few more drinks Leavey said, ‘So you’ll be off home to the wife then Willie?’
MacFarlane’s eyes said not. He dropped his eyelids and said, ‘No… she’s left me.’
‘God, I’m sorry,’ said Leavey, exchanging glances with MacLean.
‘I got a letter. She’s been seeing this other guy; he’s got his own business.’
Leavey and MacFarlane exchanged glances again. ‘Have you been married long Willie?’ asked MacLean.
‘Three years.’
‘That’s tough, man,’ said Leavey.
‘To think I gave up a perfectly good “career” so that she could say that she was married to an honest man!’ fumed MacFarlane. ‘I’ve been freezing my arse off on the rigs while she’s been…’
‘Have another drink, Willie.’
MacFarlane looked at his watch and shook his head. ‘No, I must be off. The last train to Glasgow leaves in fifteen minutes.’
‘So, you’ve something planned then?’
MacFarlane looked at Leavey as if it was a trick question then said as if he had only realised it himself, ‘No, not really.’
‘Then why don’t we all go back to my place. We can talk over old times and you both can stay the night. There’s plenty of room.’
MacFarlane agreed after only a moment’s thought.
‘Fine by me,’ added MacLean.
Leavey’s flat in Aberdeen turned out be on the third floor of an unprepossessing tenement block not far from Union Street. The greyness and the rain made it appear more unwelcoming than it might have done in sunlight but MacFarlane admired the quality of the locks on the door as Leavey undid them. Leavey said by way of explanation, ‘I’m away a lot,’ and they all smiled.
When they got inside MacLean could see immediately why Leavey was so security conscious. The apartment was beautifully furnished with the most expensive of materials. Leavey apologised for the coldness adding that there was no point in having the heating on while he wasn’t there.
‘Have you won the pools or something?’ asked MacFarlane in admiration. He was examining the stereo system.
‘I don’t have anything else to spend my money on,’ said Leavey. ‘Besides, when you spend most of your working life up to your arse in shit, it’s good to have somewhere nice to come back to.’
MacLean nodded in agreement.
‘Maybe I’ll get myself a place like this too,’ said Willie. ‘Now that I’m single again.’
‘Why not,’ said Leavey.
Leavey and MacLean sat on facing armchairs, sipping Laphroaig whisky while MacFarlane did the same from one end of a matching settee. Miles Davies was playing quietly on the stereo. ‘So what brings you back to Aberdeen, Doc?’ he asked. ‘You’re not thinking of coming back to the rigs?’
‘I’ve got a problem Willie; I need help,’ confessed MacLean.
‘If it’s something I can do, you just have to say the word,’ said MacFarlane.
‘It’s dangerous.’
‘So’s crossing the road.’
‘I mean it. You could end up in a foreign jail or even dead.’
‘That dangerous,’ exclaimed MacFarlane in a muted voice.
‘Yes.’
‘I owe you, Doc. You can count on me.’
MacLean held up his hand and said, ‘You owe me nothing but I’m not a big enough person not to ask you.
MacFarlane looked at Leavey and asked, ‘Are you in on this?’
Leavey nodded.
‘Why?’ asked MacFarlane.
‘It’s a good cause,’ said Leavey matter of factly.
MacFarlane turned back to MacLean and said, ‘Tell me about it.’
MacLean told him the story and when he had finished MacFarlane said distantly, ‘Poor wee mite. You know, I always wanted a wee lassie myself.’
After a few moments silence Leavey said, ‘Well, in or out?’
‘I’m in,’ said MacFarlane. ‘Most definitely in.’
‘When do we start?’ Leavey asked MacLean.
‘As soon as possible.’
‘I’m ready,’ said Leavey. ‘How about you Willie. Is anyone going to miss you in Glasgow?’
‘Only the bookie.’
MacLean suggested that they travel south to Edinburgh in the morning. They could stay at Tansy’s place until they had arranged their travel to Geneva and then set off from there. Leavey asked him how the operation was being funded and MacLean told him about the insurance money from the bungalow.
‘That’s rough,’ said Leavey.
MacFarlane agreed and offered to carry out a ‘wee funding operation’. MacLean declined with a smile but thanked him anyway. They decided on a late morning train to allow MacFarlane time to go shopping for some ‘bits and bobs’ he thought he might need. MacLean said that he would accompany him and pay for the tools and equipment but MacFarlane wouldn’t hear of it. ‘Just a few wee odds and ends,’ he insisted.
Despite the lateness of the hour, MacLean phoned Tansy to say that he had finished in Aberdeen and that he would be home with two friends by mid-afternoon on the following day. Tansy assumed by ‘two friends’ that he meant Doyle and Leavey and was shocked to hear of Mick Doyle’s death. ‘Death suddenly seems so close to us,’ she said sadly. MacLean, anxious to divert her attention to something more positive, asked her to go up to the airline offices in the morning and pick up some information on scheduled flights to Geneva.