"What do you mean?" Nigel said.
"You're not the average Scots family," Kit told him. "You're a Londoner, Elton's black, and Daisy's a bloody psychopath. My sisters may notice that."
"We'll just be polite and not say much."
"Say nothing at all would be the best plan. Any rough stuff and the game will be up."
"Of course. We want them to think we're harmless."
"Especially Daisy." Kit turned to her. "You keep your hands to yourself."
Nigel backed Kit. "Yeah, Daisy, try not to give the bloody game away. Act like a girl, just for a couple of hours, okay?"
She said, "Yeah, yeah," and turned away.
Kit realized that at some point in the argument he had given in. "Shit," he said. "Just remember that you need me to show you where the Land Cruiser is. If any harm comes to my family, you can forget it."
With a fatalistic feeling that he was helpless to stop himself hurtling toward disaster, he led them around the house to the back door. It was unlocked, as always. As he opened it, he said, "All right, Nellie, it's me," so that the dog would not bark.
When he entered the boot lobby, warm air washed over him like a blessing. Behind him, he heard Elton say, "Oh, God, that's better."
Kit turned and hissed, "Keep your voices down, please!" He felt like a schoolteacher trying to quiet heedless children in a museum. "The longer they stay asleep, the easier it will be for us, don't you see that?" He led them through the lobby and into the kitchen. "Be nice, Nellie," he said quietly. "These are friends."
Nigel patted Nellie, and the dog wagged her tail. They took off their wet coats. Nigel stood the briefcase on the kitchen table and said, "Put the kettle on, Kit."
Kit put down his laptop and turned on the small TV set on the kitchen counter. He found a news channel, then filled the kettle.
A pretty newsreader said, "An unexpected change in the prevailing wind has brought a surprise blizzard to most of Scotland.'
Daisy said, "You can say that again."
The newsreader spoke in a seductive voice, as if inviting the viewer back to her place for a nightcap. "In some parts, more than twelve inches of snow fell in as many hours."
"I'll give you twelve inches in some parts," said Elton.
They were relaxing, Kit saw with trepidation. He felt even more tense than before.
The newsreader told of car accidents, blocked roads, and abandoned vehicles. "To hell with all that," Kit said irately. "When's it going to stop?"
"Make the tea, Kit," said Nigel.
Kit put out mugs, a sugar bowl, and a jug of milk. Nigel, Daisy, and Elton sat around the scrubbed-pine table, just like family. The kettle boiled. Kit made a pot of tea and a cafetiere of coffee.
The television picture changed, and a weather forecaster appeared in front of a chart. They all went quiet. "Tomorrow morning the blizzard will die away as quickly as it came," he said.
"Yes!" Nigel said triumphantly.
"The thaw will follow before midday."
"Be precise!" Nigel said in exasperation. "What time before midday?"
"We can still make it," Elton said. He poured tea and added milk and sugar.
Kit shared his optimism. "We should leave at first light," he said. Seeing the way ahead cheered him up.
"I hope we can," Nigel said.
Elton sipped his tea. "By the cringe, that's better. Lazarus must have felt like this when he was raised from the dead."
Daisy stood up. She opened the door to the dining room and peered into the gloom. "What room is this?"
Kit said, "Where do you think you're going?"
"I need a shot of booze in this tea." She turned on the light and went in. A moment later, she made a triumphant noise, and Kit heard her opening the cocktail cabinet.
Kit's father walked into the kitchen from the hall, wearing gray pajamas and a black cashmere dressing gown. "Good morning," he said. "What's all this?"
"Hello, Daddy," Kit said. "Let me explain."
Daisy came in from the dining room holding a full bottle of Glenmorangie in her gloved hand.
Stanley raised his eyebrows at her. "Do you want a glass of whisky?" he said.
"No, thanks," she replied. "I've got a whole bottle here."
4:15 AM
TONI called Stanley at home as soon as she had a spare moment. There was nothing he could do, but he would want to know what was happening. And she did not want him to learn about the break-in from the news.
It was a conversation she dreaded. She had to tell him that she was responsible for a catastrophe that could ruin his life. How would he feel about her after that?
She dialed his number and got the "disconnected" tone. His phone must be out of order. Perhaps the snow had brought down the lines. She was relieved not to have to give him the dreadful news.
He did not carry a mobile, but there was a phone in his Ferrari. She dialed that and left a message. "Stanley, this is Toni. Bad news-a break-in at the lab. Please call my mobile as soon as you can." He might not get the message until it was too late, but at least she had tried.
She stared impatiently out of the windows of the Great Hall. Where were the police with their snowplow? They would be coming from the south, from Inverburn, on the main road. She guessed that the plow traveled at about fifteen miles per hour, depending on the depth of snow it had to clear. The trip should take twenty or thirty minutes. It should be here by now. Come on, come on!
She hoped it would leave here almost immediately, and get on the northward track of the Hibernian Telecom van. The van would be easy to spot, with the name in large white letters on a dark background.
But the thieves might have thought of that, she realized suddenly. They had probably planned to switch vehicles soon after leaving the Kremlin. That was how she would have done it. She would have picked a nondescript car, something like a Ford Fiesta that looked like a dozen other models, and left it in a car park, outside a supermarket or a railway station. The thieves would drive straight to the car park and be in a completely different vehicle a few minutes after leaving the scene of the crime.
The thought dismayed her. How then would the police identify the thieves? They would have to check every car and see whether the occupants were three men and a woman.
She wondered agitatedly whether there was anything she could do to hurry the process. Assuming the gang had switched vehicles somewhere near here, what were the possibilities? They needed a location where a vehicle might be parked for several hours without attracting attention. There were no railway stations or supermarkets in the vicinity. What was there? She went to the reception desk and got a notepad and ballpoint pen. She made a list:
Inverburn Golf Club
Dew Drop Inn ' Happy Eater
Greenfingers Garden Centre
Scottish Smoked Fish Products
Williams Press (Printing amp; Publishing)
She did not want Carl Osborne to know what she was doing. Carl had returned from his car to the warmth of the hall, and was listening to everything. Unknown to him, he could no longer phone from the car- Steve had sneaked out and taken the keys from the ignition-but all the same, Toni was taking no chances.
She spoke quietly to Steve. "We're going to do some detective work." She tore her sheet of paper into two and gave half to Steve. "Ring these places. Everything's closed, of course, but you should find a caretaker or security guard. Tell them we've had a robbery, but don't say what's missing. Say the getaway vehicle may have been abandoned on their premises. Ask if they can see a Hibernian Telecom van outside."