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<title>20</title>
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<h1>20</h1>
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<p>She saw him coming down Bothwell Street as she was walking to the lawyer’s office and pulled back into the open
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doorway of Starbucks coffee house, wondering what he was doing in Glasgow. Had he followed her here?</p>
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<p>"Can I get you something?" The girl held up a cup.</p>
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<p>Kate shook her head, craning forward to watch him striding fast down the street towards George Square. Something was
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different about him. The suit looked new. And she'd never seen him with a briefcase either. It gleamed a burnished
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ox-blood.</p>
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<p>Kerrigan Deane had persuaded the sheriff to slap on the interdict against Aitkenbar Distillery.</p>
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<p>"It's a holding operation," he said. "All that does is prevent any action on their part until they come to court and
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try to get it lifted."</p>
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<p>"Can they do that?"</p>
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<p>"Of course they can try. But at the moment they can't take any action, which gives your organisation the chance to
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prepare your case. As I see it, the research we have provides us with a <em>prima facie </em>case."</p>
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<p>"We've got some research. Where did you get yours?"</p>
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<p>"I'm afraid that's confidential. But it is very informative, very detailed, and as far as I can see, historically
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accurate."</p>
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<p>She wished she knew his source, but that was as far as she was going to get today.</p>
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<p> "Whatever. It's there. On the face of it, there is a strong a case for public ownership of the River Harbour which
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will stand as long as Mr Sproat cannot produce title deeds. Initial checks show this is a strong possibility, but
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one never knows when we're dealing with ancient history. This will at least prevent the destruction of the harbour
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in the meantime. In a word, he's stuck."</p>
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<p>"That's all we want," she said. "If he can't dump the buildings in the basin, we'll win."</p>
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<p>Jack had talked through it out on the Creggan Cliffs, before that boy almost drowned down near the rocks. Sproat
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needed that big hole in the river to bulldoze the rubble and reclaim all that acreage of land. If he couldn't use
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the river, it would have to go somewhere else and that would cost millions in landfill tax, millions that Sproat
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didn't want to spend, millions Sproat didn't have anyway, Jack had said.</p>
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<p>Now they had a chance, thanks to whoever the mystery benefactor was who had funded this operation. Kate had a
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sneaking suspicion about that. It could have been the fellow from the big yacht, the one who had somehow traced her
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and gone round to thank Jack for saving his son. He certainly looked as if he was worth some sort of money. Kerrigan
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Deane was steadfast in his refusal to disclose that piece of information, but it didn't matter. It would have taken
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Charter 1315 months to raise the money they needed, maybe a year, and by that time the distillery would be down,
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dumped in the river, and the shopping mall developers in on the new site.</p>
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<p><em>Damn Jack Lorne.</em> He had helped kick this whole thing off, in a way. His anger at the steady drain of jobs
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and money from the area had spurred her on with the charter protesters. </p>
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<p>Then despite all that, he had turned his back in it and his bunch of wild men had hijacked the big whisky decant like
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a gang of hoods. She couldn't understand that at all.</p>
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<p>She recalled his look of surprise and incredulity when she had come round the corner, sizzling with anger, and lumped
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him one on the jaw.</p>
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<p><em>You stole a tanker of whisky?</em></p>
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<p><em>No. I stole </em>two<em> tankers of whisky.</em></p>
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<p>He'd kept his face straight, dead serious.</p>
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<p><em>I needed a head start. It was payback time for that arsehole.</em></p>
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<p>That wasn't the laid-back Jack Lorne of old. He'd had a look in his eye she'd never seen before. What was it, anger?
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Bitterness? Maybe both. He sounded tougher, harder. And he wasn't for backing down one inch.</p>
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<p><em>....twenty seven years old milkman with maybe a chance of a job in an office. Work my way up to middle management
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by the time I'm forty and then get kicked out for being past it.</em></p>
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<p>This was a new Jack Lorne. He'd been coasting for so long, taking it easy, the original laid back retro-music man.
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Now the police were after the raiders at Aitkenbar, after <em>him</em>, and if they caught up he'd go down for five
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years, Jack and that whole team of daft boys who never grew up.</p>
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<p>And it would break her heart.</p>
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<p>She froze, just on the point of stepping out of Starbucks.</p>
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<p>"Cappuccino? Latte?" the girl's voice seemed way in the distance.</p>
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<p>He could go to jail and it would break her heart. The realisation of just how much she cared felt stopped her dead
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and shook her to the core. <em>Damn damn damn!</em></p>
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<p>Kate finally got a hand to the door and walked out into the busy street. He was far down the slope now, waiting for
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the lights to change and her heart was still pounding harder than it should.</p>
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<p>Did he have any idea how she felt?</p>
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<p>And how did she feel anyway?</p>
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<p><em>Damn him.</em></p>
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<p>He was way in the distance now, head and shoulders just visible.</p>
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<p>It was just then that his appearance finally struck her. What was he doing with an Armani suit? And what the hell had
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he done to his hair?</p>
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<p>Early Monday morning and Jack juggled the grille and the frying pan. The smell of bacon and eggs and fried tomatoes
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filled the kitchen and soon percolated through the house. Donny was at the table, still wrapped in the dressing
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gown. Jack was stiff from another night on the couch, but that would wear off quickly when he got busy. Ed buttered
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the rolls while Sandy read the paper. </p>
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<p>Donny had woken in the middle of the night and come downstairs, still favouring his side.</p>
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<p>"What's the matter? You still hurting?" Jack came awake quickly at the sound of the door opening and sat up, yawning,
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while the dream he'd had fragmented into shards and he tried to hold on to them as they scattered.</p>
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<p>"It's okay," Donny said.</p>
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<p>"You need a doc?"</p>
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<p>"No. I think I just tore a muscle."</p>
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<p>"You never had any muscle to tear, you big Jessie." Jack reached over and ruffled Donny's hair. All the anger was
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gone now. <em>Friends</em>. You couldn't pick them, not when you were a kid. They were just like families sometimes.
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You had to make allowances.</p>
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<p>The anger had evaporated, replaced by a determination to get past this.</p>
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<p>Donny's face was still pale and miserable, more so in the thin light that leaked in between the slats of the
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blinds.</p>
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<p>"Jake, I..." he began.</p>
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<p>"You tell me you really, really love me, I'll hook you."</p>
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<p>"No its..."</p>
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<p>"I know what it is, man. You screwed up. Okay. Right. That's it said. And so did I."</p>
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<p>Jack punched him on the shoulder, hard enough to get his attention. "We can go on about it all day, or we can get on
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with the business, you and me and the boys."</p>
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<p>Donny looked back at him, surprise and shame fighting it out.</p>
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<p>"Come on Donzo. What's done is done. Everybody has to fuck up. The trick is to shove past it and move ahead, which is
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what we're doing. We've got a long way to go and you're still my main man. We're all solid, and I mean <em>all</em>
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of us. And I need you in the team."</p>
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<p>He sat back, suddenly struck by the desire for a fast shot of Lars Hanssen's good vodka.</p>
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<p>"You want a drink?" he tried to change the subject.</p>
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<p>"No. I'm off it."</p>
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<p>"Good. Stay off it until this is over." The thing with Donny was past. They had to get by the obstacle and think of
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what to do now. If he dwelt on it, that would slow everything up. He poured a shot, added some fresh orange, using
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the time to think.</p>
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<p>"What about Ferguson?"</p>
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<p>"Him? He's all mouth and muscle. If he'd brains, he'd be dangerous."</p>
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<p>Jack was just talking now, still holding on to the half dream. Ferguson <em>was</em> dangerous, and not just because
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he had Cullen and Foley and a whole team of the Corrieside animals on the payroll. He was dangerous because of what
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he knew, and if he didn't get what he wanted, he'd shop them all, that was for certain. Honour amongst thieves
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wasn't in his lexicon.</p>
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<p>"He's not daft," Donny said. </p>
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<p>"No. He's got animal cunning, but can he <em>think?</em>"</p>
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<p>Could he really think? Muscle and cunning was sometimes enough. But put Sandy Bruce up against Ferguson, and Jack
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knew who his money would be on. But Sandy had taken a big risk for him before, and Jack wasn't ready to let that
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happen again. He'd do it <em>his</em> way. In fact, he'd already, and quite instinctively, started the battle, the
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first time he went up to Glasgow.</p>
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<p>The dream kept trying to force its way back in on his thoughts again. Jack took another sip of the drink. He'd be all
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the better for a good night's sleep and a tightener. Something had clarified while he slept and he smiled to
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himself. It wasn't the first time that had happened. He should sleep more often.</p>
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<p>"Listen man. You get to your bed and we'll talk in the morning. I'm going to need you to do something for me."</p>
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<p>"What's that?"</p>
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<p>"It's a big job. And it's Something only you can do."</p>
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<p>Donny looked at him, grateful, strangely tongue tied. Jack punched him on the shoulder again, the way friends
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can.</p>
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<p>"You tell me what it is Jake. I'll do it right."</p>
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<p>"I know you will. Now piss off before you start kissing me," Jack said.</p>
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<p>But they hugged anyway. Friends, what could you do?</p>
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<p>Jed Cooper took him aside to ask him a question. They were down by the boat and Donny had gone to start his shift.
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Tam was on the site, keeping an eye on the big tanks. It had been a busy morning and Ed had woken him at dawn with
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an idea.</p>
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<p>It was dead simple. Tommy Dunbar was a regular in Mac's Bar and it was easy to keep him occupied for five minutes
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talking about football at the post office hatch where they handed out the parcels that hadn't been delivered. Ed
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simply reached around the door and snatched one of the red and blue jackets hanging there and then they both went
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round to Tim Farmer's house.</p>
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<p>Ed knocked tentatively, while Jack remained outside.</p>
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<p>"What do you want?" The old man's voice came from behind the door.</p>
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<p>"It's the postman," Ed said. He leant in towards the frosted glass, showing the colours. Tim Farmer took his time,
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and finally opened up.</p>
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<p>"You think this is the town dump?" </p>
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<p>"What do you mean?" Ed was taken by surprise.</p>
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<p>"Look at all this stuff here. Somebody just dumped it through the door. I've a good mind to chuck it in the bin."</p>
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<p>"That's what I'm here about," Ed said. He looked beyond the old fellow and noticed that the shards of pottery had
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been cleaned up. "There was a mistake. We had a new boy, stuffed the wrong mail through the door. I'm here to
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collect it."</p>
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<p>"I could charge you storage," the old man said.</p>
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<p>"You could, but that would be interfering with her majesty's mail. You can get three years for that. And a big
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fine."</p>
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<p>"Really?"</p>
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<p>"True. It's the law."</p>
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<p>"Well you better take it then. Just make sure I don't get any more of this."</p>
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<p>Ed bent, stacked it all together and was gone in a minute. Jack sorted through the pile of envelopes on the way down
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the road and by the time they reached his grandfather's place, Sandy was gone.</p>
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<p>"Good stuff," he told Ed. "We're finally on our way. Just a couple of days more and we're home clear."</p>
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<p>"As long as we can stay ahead of big Baxter and that nutter Ferguson."</p>
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<p>"He doesn't know where I am."</p>
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<p>"Let's keep it that way."</p>
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<p>Alistair Sproat had signed on the line, eager to get his cash flow going now that his own deadline was rushing
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closer. He had aged five years in the past fortnight and Jack could see the need in his eyes. Daddy's money might
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have given him the firm and the lifestyle, but he'd never been hungry until now, never really had to work at it, and
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it was a bit late to learn the tricks. Jack had drawn him out and Sandy had played him like a trout. Kerr Thomson
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had been crucial to the deal.</p>
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<p>They had cornered him in the car park off river street just after the end of the shift and it was clear he was
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waiting for Betty McKinley from the charity shop to get off so they could go somewhere quiet. Tam Bowie wondered if
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they should wait and follow them, but Jack vetoed the idea. There was always a chance she'd get such a fright that
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she'd blurt it out to her husband and do true confessions. That would just open up a new can of probabilities and
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imponderables. They needed Kerr Thomson by himself and preferably by the balls.</p>
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<p>Tam knocked on the window and the customs officer didn't recognise him through the glass. Tam flashed him a wallet
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and mimed rolling the window down. He leant an elbow on the car roof.</p>
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<p>"Mr Thomson?"</p>
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<p>"Yes?" Wariness showed already.</p>
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<p>"I'm afraid you'll have to come with me and answer a few questions."</p>
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<p>"Who the hell are you?" Thomson tried bluster despite the quick fear in his eyes.</p>
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<p>Tam flipped the wallet open again and this time Thomson got a clear look at his own white backside sticking up in the
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air and his face half turned, mouth slack.</p>
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<p>"Oh shit." He'd seen the flicker in the dark and had thought it was a flashlight.</p>
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<p>"The lady in question works in the charity shop?"</p>
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<p>"How did you.....?"</p>
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<p>"Never mind how. You were warned about your behaviour and it seems you haven't learned a lesson. But there is
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something else we have to talk to you about. Please step out of the car." </p>
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<p>"Am I under arrest?"</p>
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<p>"That remains to be seen." Tam enjoyed putting it on. He turned to Jack, who stood with his arms folded at the
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entrance to the car park and gave him an exaggerated wink. Jack kept his face totally straight. He looked the
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part.</p>
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<p>They shut the private car park gate behind the chemists shop, shielding themselves from the traffic. Thomson looked
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Jack up and down, took in the well cut tweed jacket and the rimless glasses.</p>
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<p>"We have good information that you and Alistair Sproat have been involved in an attempt to defraud Her Majesty's
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Customs and Excise of its rightful revenue." Jack kept his face stern.</p>
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<p>When Tam showed Thomson the picture of him and Betty McKinley the blood had drained out of his face. Now he looked as
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if he might have a stroke. Thomson put a hand to his chest and slumped back against the brick wall, breathing
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hard.</p>
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<p>"No need to tell you how many years you could be facing for offences of this nature," Jack kept up the pressure.
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"Fraud, conspiracy to defraud. Breach of trust."</p>
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<p>"I...I...I...."</p>
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<p>"You were involved in remarking barrels of bonded spirits in B Hall at Aitkenbar Distillery. I can give you date and
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times, and if you would like to see them, the surveillance tapes."</p>
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<p>"But there's no surveillance in...." Thomson's mouth closed like a trap.</p>
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<p>"You might think that," Jack said. "You would be wrong." He stood back, folded his arms.</p>
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<p>"However, this is your lucky day. We don't want you. You're small fry. We're even prepared to grant you immunity for
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your complete co-operation. And my colleague here will try to forget he ever took that interesting artwork. We've
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been watching you for some time."</p>
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<p>Thomson licked his lips. The beads of sweat that had sprung on his forehead had transformed themselves into rivulets.
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They could almost see steam rising from under his armpits.</p>
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<p>"What do you want me to do?"</p>
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<p>"I want you to sit down and tell us everything you can. Times, numbers, amounts, everything. Tomorrow, we'll expect
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to see the relevant paperwork, and we'll expect your complete co-operation and total discretion. You tell anyone
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about this and the deal is off and I'm afraid you'll be facing multiple charges. Total silence is imperative."</p>
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<p>"And I get immunity? You won't charge me?"</p>
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<p>"You might even get to keep your job if you do this right. We always reward good citizens who realise the error of
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their ways and help the police with their inquiries."</p>
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<p>Kerr Thomson started talking and didn't stop for two hours.</p>
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<p>Alistair Sproat had supplied the big flatbeds and drivers and it took a morning to roll the barrels out and load
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them. Things were looking up today, with the news from Dunvegan. They had done the deal in the Drumbuie Hotel on the
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Friday and Sproat had been cheered up enough to offer them champagne. Sandy took a brandy, looking quite the part in
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Armani.</p>
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<p>He'd passed the envelope across the table. Sproat made a play of opening the flap and taking a cursory glance inside,
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too arrogant to get right in there and check in front of them. That was a mistake. The deal was bent and they all
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knew it, and if you did bent deals, you dealt with bent people. You counted your fingers if you had to.</p>
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<p>"Go on, you count," Sandy said. His accent stayed the distance.</p>
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<p>"This is just the first tranche," Sproat said. "I trust you."</p>
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<p>The five thousand was all there, just a taster. For good faith.</p>
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<p>"We're loading up today. It'll be ready for you tomorrow. And thanks for helping out with the Dunvegan deal."</p>
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<p>Sandy waved his hand, as if it was nothing, and Jack smiled. DJ Munro and the rest of the boys up there had taken a
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bit of convincing, for it was their redundancy money and their futures stacked up on the line.</p>
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<p>"I hadn't expected a management buy out," Sproat said.</p>
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<p>"All they needed was some leverage," Jack told him. "Mr D'Angeli's associates were pleased to assist."</p>
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<p>"Frankly I thought I'd never get rid of the place. I'm just glad to see it off my hands. No demand for those single
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malts these days, and it's far too labour intensive. Designer drinks, that's where it's going. You can sell the
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stuff in three days, not three years, and the tax is by alcohol volume, so your costs are a third. You can't
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lose."</p>
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<p>"We're just pleased to help," Jack said. "We kill two birds with the one stone. They give us the storage, which means
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we don't have to take the goods out of customs bond until we need them, which is good for cash flow, and we give
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them the business."</p>
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<p>"You're happy, we're all of us happy." Sandy said.</p>
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<p>It had been more difficult to persuade DJ Munro than it had been to persuade Sproat. All Sproat could see were fast
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dollar signs and they had focused his attention on another target. All he needed was to get shot of Dunvegan to
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concentrate on the Mall deal. Jack had brought DJ down to Kerrigan Dean's office and with the big credit guarantee
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from the bank they'd thrashed out the details and the lawyer had gone to Aitkenbar to fix it up. Sproat would rather
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have had the money up front, but Deane explained that the local boys were talking a chance, and Sproat knew they had
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no major market. At the end of the day, he'd be stuck with an empty distillery and the redundancy payments for the
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men he was throwing on the scrap. Sproat signed the deal for a ten-year reducing payment and washed his hands of an
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asset that would have cost a fortune in care and maintenance. What he didn't know was that the money to fund the
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buy-out came from a bank guarantee on a share of a boat that had been bought with the whisky that had been stolen
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from under his nose. That would have rankled.</p>
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<p>It would have been a lot worse if he'd known the first moves had been made to obtain the European regional grants
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that would mean the buy-out by the Dunvegan management and their backers would cost them virtually nothing over the
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ten years.</p>
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|
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<p>But he didn't know that, and Braveheart Distilling became a reality.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack phoned ahead and told DJ to expect the first delivery. Kerrigan Deane rang him just after that to tell him the
|
||
property transfer had gone through the register. Everything was coming together now, building up under the plan's
|
||
own gravity.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>The big trucks got rolling. From Levenford to Skye, it's a long and winding road up through the highlands and out to
|
||
the wild wastes of the west, and it's rare for Scotch whisky to travel in that direction. Normally it's made up in
|
||
the north and gets transported south by the same road. But times were changing.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Kerr Thomson had aged faster than Alistair Sproat had. Ed had watched him as he worked, all the bravado and bluster
|
||
knocked out of him; like a man imploded. By the Monday afternoon, he had come up with the paperwork Jack needed and
|
||
Margery Burns searched the records for the rest of it. By this stage, the operation had gained its own momentum. All
|
||
Jack needed was the word from Lars Hanssen.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He used the time to set up yet another mail drop, and that was one thing he had planned for, just in case Murphy's
|
||
Law kept to the usual rules: Anything that can go wrong, <em>will</em>.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>When he said that, Ed told him Murphy was a rose tinted optimist. He was probably right.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Trouble's like a wet-suit," Ed said. "Easy to get into, murder to get out of."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>They had a week's credit on the batch of whisky Alistair Sproat was glad to see gone from Aitkenbar distillery,
|
||
especially since most of the money would be clear profit, no income tax, no VAT. That gave Jack Lorne a breathing
|
||
space, so long as Lars Hanssen got his boat fixed and managed to get out of the Clyde in just a couple of days time.
|
||
He could sense Angus Baxter ferreting about the town, working his way closer. No matter what happened, it was only a
|
||
question of time before he came sniffing around.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"He knows it was an inside job," Ed told him.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Not entirely."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"You know what I mean. I'm in the clear anyway, but he looks right through you, as if you're guilty anyway. They
|
||
haven't figured out when the pipes were welded. There were a dozen guys in the decant room on the night and they're
|
||
all in the frame."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"They'll be all right," Jack said with some certainty. "They haven't done anything."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"That's what you think. They've all been scamming whisky out of that place since they were boys just out of school.
|
||
They're all shitting their pants thinking Baxter will get them for something."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack laughed. "That's the trouble these days. You just can't trust anybody."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He got up to Dunvegan on Skye by six that night, almost dead on his feet, and stayed at DJ Munro's place a half mile
|
||
down the road from the little old distillery that was tucked into a little narrow glen not far from the old castle.
|
||
He had a fast meeting with DJ's cousin, two quick beers in the back room of the village pub, tying up final details,
|
||
and when he hit the pillow at nine he fell asleep immediately. DJ's wife woke him with a big breakfast twelve hours
|
||
later, and at eleven in the morning, the big flatbeds arrived from Aitkenbar, with the hogsheads of young whisky
|
||
pinned down on their backs with ropes and steadied with big curved wedges.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>At the same time Angus Baxter brought his team of investigators together in the CID operations room in Levenford.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"The engineers tell me they couldn't have used a gravity feed to fill the tankers." He managed to talk and light his
|
||
pipe at the same time, a trick that only veteran pipe smokers know. "And from what our observant patrol officers
|
||
noted, they had a pump. Any leads Jimmy?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>The young CID constable shook his head. "We're still working on it. The local hire companies have eighty pumps
|
||
between them, most of them on lease to local contractors. We're checking them all out, but some of them are working
|
||
out of town, or don't have proper schedules."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Give me the full list. Check them with companies house, Benefits Agency, Inland Revenue, the lot. We want to pin
|
||
them down by tomorrow, so get them at home if you have to. We find that pump and we'll have our men."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He turned to the rest of them. "They had to have a man on the inside, and somebody who's an expert on pipes. We need
|
||
to know who all had plans, and we've narrowed the field of expertise down to four people inside the plant. Now I
|
||
want everything you can get on them. Who they see, where they go. If we have to get taps, them we'll do that. One
|
||
thing's for sure, we're going to catch this bunch of buggers."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>One of the other constables put his hand up and waited until Baxter caught his eye.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I heard there was some whisky getting dealt down the quay."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"The day it's not, then that'll be a first. The distilleries around here leak like burst mains."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I though we should check it out."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Fine. Make a couple of inquiries, but they won't be selling this piecemeal down the quay or anywhere else. This is a
|
||
bulk job and it's been sold already. We just have to find out who it was sold to, and by whom." </p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Gus Ferguson was not happy. He was down in his yard adjacent to the lorry park, where he sold a couple of used cars
|
||
as a cover for the rest of his business. He did not know that he had been operating only yards from the loads of
|
||
whisky he was now desperate to get his hands on.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"So where is he?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Nobody's seen him," Seggs Cullen said. "Not for the past week."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"He must be somewhere. That ginger idiot said he hasn't left town."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Well, he's not staying at home. We've asked around."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Ferguson bit on his thumbnail.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Okay. He's gone to ground. All we have to do is give him a reason to come out again."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Just as Ferguson began to outline his plan, Jack had gathered the others down at Gillespie's boat to talk about that
|
||
very problem.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"He's going to come at us," Tam said. </p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Sure he is. We have to figure out how and when. First we have to keep a low profile. Donny and Ed are staying at my
|
||
Grandad's place. You three hole up together and keep out of the way. I don't want you on the streets. We need the
|
||
advantage."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Cullen and Foley have been asking questions."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Sooner or later, they'll get answers. All we have to do is hold them off for a couple of days."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What will Ferguson want? Can we do a deal?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"No," Ed said. "You can't deal with him. He's a hyena. We make the kill, he wants to eat it."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack agreed. "We've come too far now. Just so long as we can hold out. Once it's gone, he can't touch us. And neither
|
||
can Baxter. If he comes asking, we stick to the plan. If he takes anybody in, he'll try the usual trick, playing one
|
||
off against the other, trying to make you believe somebody's caved in. Just as long aswe all walk together we'll
|
||
beat that big highlander. Just have to have confidence in each other to know that nobody will say anything, and if
|
||
we stay tight, he can't break us no matter what."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He turned to Donny. "How's your end coming along?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Good. I've got fifteen barrels ready to roll. Stencils and the brander."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Right. I've got the numbers we need."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What's that for?" Tam asked.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Need to know. Everybody does their own job."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Tam knew where the whisky was stashed, but Donny was still in the dark after the Ferguson complication. Jack needed
|
||
to play it like that. Only he knew the final plan, and if the others knew exactly what it was, maybe they'd have
|
||
second thoughts. Definitely maybe.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"How did you get the numbers?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"A friend of a friend," Jack said. Nobody else knew what he was talking about.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Marge Burns had promised the rest of them from the computer files, but Kerr Thomson had come up with what they needed
|
||
and despite the catastrophe over Donny's fish, the fact that Jack had got Tam out on the bike scouting the streets
|
||
for intruders on the night of the raid had been a major piece of serendipity. It allowed him to ratchet the plan
|
||
into another dimension.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>But he was acutely aware of the pressure of time. The only thing he couldn't hurry was the repair job on Lars'
|
||
boat. </p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Just watch your backs everybody," he said. "Stay away from Ferguson and his hoods, and just act normal."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Tam laughed. "How can you act normal with your hair like that?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack ran his hand through it. "Look at the state of me. I'm old before my time."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Everybody had a job to do. Neil was detailed to hire the lifting gear they'd need and Ed had to help Donny with the
|
||
empty barrels. Jack knew Ferguson would make his move sooner than later and he had to be ready for him.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p> "He thinks he's got us by the balls, down and out. But remember there's a big difference between kneeling down and
|
||
bending over."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jed stopped him at the bottom of the ladder as the rest of them strolled away from the boat. Night was falling here
|
||
where the river flowed into the Clyde, and the oystercatchers out on the flats wheedled in the dimming light. A
|
||
smell of pine and oak woodsmoke mixed with the exotic scent of gorse blossom. </p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Have you seen Marge Burns?" Jed seemed almost embarrassed.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I know you were talking to her. I just wondered if you knew what she was up to."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack swallowed, wondering what Jed was going to say next. A little greasy trickle of guilt ran through him and he had
|
||
to force himself to ignore it. Sometimes a man had to do what a man had to do, he'd reasoned. Desperate times needed
|
||
desperate measures. Any old excuse would do. Jack felt guilty for Jed and for Kate, but no matter what, Marge had
|
||
been worth her weight in any currency, and paying the price had not exactly been dogged with unpleasantness. Old
|
||
Marge knew just exactly what she wanted, and she was no hesitant maiden when it came to collecting. Jack just
|
||
wondered how he could extract himself from it without offending her. Right now he needed everybody pulling together.
|
||
The last thing he needed was a fatal attraction, and Sandy's racing pigeons baked in a pie.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I'm not with you," Jack lied.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I think she's seeing somebody else."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack stopped and stared Jed straight in the eye, forcing himself to look concerned for his friend and not worried for
|
||
himself.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"You think so? Any idea who?" Jed could twist and turn on the stock track, but he wasn't really devious. Jack
|
||
wondered if he was just testing him.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jed shook his head glumly. "No. We had a great time, but I don't know what's the matter with her. I went round last
|
||
night and she never came to the door. I'm sure she was in. That's happened a couple of times. A few weeks back she
|
||
was all over me like a rash, and now it's like I've got a dose of the pox."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack's mind raced. Had he been round there? Things were moving so fast that it was getting difficult even to keep
|
||
track of himself. No. He hadn't been there. He breathed a sigh of relief and managed to disguise it.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I don't know," he said. "But you know Marge. She's just split up with her man, so she's not going to let the grass
|
||
grow. And you're not planning to tie the knot, are you?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jed shook his head. "I suppose not. But, jeez Jake, she knows her stuff does Marge. Taught me a thing or two, I can
|
||
tell you."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p><em>I could believe that,</em> Jack thought.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Don't tell me," he said, trying to keep it light. "There's some details I don't need. Anyway, you better just ask
|
||
her straight out, and if it's bad news, don't worry. Remember those Swedish twins at Robert Wardell's party? They're
|
||
coming back across in a couple of weeks. I can definitely fix you up."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I thought you were well in with them. The boys said you had a Swedish sandwich."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"No, that's just a scurrilous rumour," Jack said. "I've got my eye on somebody else."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Kate Delaney, right?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack tapped the side of his nose.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Need to know, old son."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He smiled conspiratorially, but he still felt like a shit.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jed's suspicions gave Jack the excuse he needed. She had been demanding, but he'd always known what a tightrope walk
|
||
it had been, trading off what he could get from Marge Burns against what she wanted. Now he could genuinely tell her
|
||
that Jed was asking questions and if he found out what had been going on, well, it would upset him for a start, and
|
||
he didn't need any cracks developing right now.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He rehearsed the scenario as he made her way round to her bungalow in Castle Lane in the easy gloaming light just
|
||
before dark. He'd have to play her and he hoped she wouldn't make a big thing of it. He'd tell her what he'd told
|
||
Jed: there were plenty of fish in the river, and new ones swimming past every day. </p>
|
||
|
||
<p>It was close to midnight when he pushed the gate forward, automatically checking right and left for neighbours
|
||
peering from behind curtained windows. Her garden was encircled by a high hedge, which gave her plenty of privacy,
|
||
for which Jack had been grateful.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>He walked round the side of the house to the back door, more intent on getting the figures he needed from her for the
|
||
next phase of the plan. He was concentrating so much that he didn't see the figure loom out of the gloom until he
|
||
was right on him.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What the...?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Who the....!"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack pulled back a tight fist, ready to throw a jab, and he froze.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Sandy?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Jack?" More of a whisper than a spoken question.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What are you doing here?" The pair of them spoke at exactly the same time.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack pulled him round towards the front, where a street light gave just enough illumination. He couldn't see the
|
||
colour, but Sandy was shifting from foot to foot, body language eloquent of cringing embarrassment.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"You dirty old bugger," Jack finally said, when the coin dropped. "I thought you were kidding about this."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Hell Jack, I <em>was</em> kidding, but <em>she</em> wasn't."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>Jack had to really get a grip on himself to stop from bursting into laughter.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Does she still think you're Italian?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>This time Sandy coloured to the darkened roots of his hair. "No. But she likes me to talk it. She says it's like
|
||
Robert Di Niro."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"More like John bloody Cleese," Jack said. He let go his grandfather's lapel and looked up at the sky where flimsy
|
||
clouds scraped past the thin crescent moon. "Thank you dear lord!"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What's that supposed to mean?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"Nothing. It's too long a story. All you have to know is you've solved a big problem for me. Just so long as you
|
||
don't have a heart attack while you're at it."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>This time Sandy pulled him forward and lowered his voice.</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"You're not kidding Jack. She's bloody insatiable. But I'll tell you one thing."</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"What's that?"</p>
|
||
|
||
<p>"I can still pull the chicks, right?"</p>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</div>
|
||
</body>
|
||
</html>
|