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<h1>12</h1>
<p>Tam walked straight in through the front door of the dairy and slapped the papers down on Jim McGuires desk.</p>
<p> Everything was speeding up, moving in a blur, and now they had too few days to do too many things. Marjory Burns had
done her job and intercepted the outgoing mail at Aitkenbar and Jed had kept his ear to the ground in the dairy. He
phoned Jack from the call box round the corner.</p>
<p>"They're coming on Tuesday."</p>
<p>"Too soon. That just gives us two days."</p>
<p>"How are we going to do this?"</p>
<p>Jack paused. "I'll have to think of something quick."</p>
<p>"Andy Kerr's going to be away tomorrow. We might get a chance then."</p>
<p>It was only two days since he'd come back down from Skye, butt-sore from the long ride. Kate had passed him in the
street and taken a second glance and then walked on, and instead of going round to his mother's house, he had passed
straight to Sandy's. He'd already gone through all this with his uncle and didn't feel like making up any more
stories. Now the big Fruehauf dairy tankers were going back to the dealer and the window of opportunity was closing.
He called Tam and sent him round to Donna Bryce for a new identity.</p>
<p>The red hair and beard looked ridiculous to anybody who knew him, and just about everybody did, but with a pair of
aviator sunglasses it changed Tam's appearance just enough. So long as nobody examined him too closely, they might
get away with it. Jack hooked out an old flying jacket and pulled on a couple of sweaters to bulk him out and by the
time they got to the dairy he was drenched in sweat, from the heat and from the tension. Everybody here had known
him for years and he had to stay out of sight as much as he could. Jed had the spare mobile and he managed to sneak
away from the delivery bay and get into Jim McGuire's office when Jim was out organising the next day's deliveries.
All he had to do was steal his reading glasses and hope for the best. He waited at the end of the corridor when Tam
went inside.</p>
<p>Tam carried it off almost perfectly.</p>
<p>"You have to wait and see Mr Kerr." Jim searched around the top of the desk for his glasses. "He'll be back
tomorrow."</p>
<p>"No can do, my man." Tam's east coast accent was atrocious. He had found an old seventies car-coat and put on a
battered trilby hat from Oxfam and looked a total mess, but it was enough to get past the manager.</p>
<p>"There it is. Date stamped and all."</p>
<p>"I'll have to call the boss."</p>
<p>"You do that." Tam half-turned and when McGuire called to Jessie in the front office for Andy Kerr's mobile number,
he gave Jed a thumb's up.<em> </em>Jessie called out the digits and the manager dialled. Jed bent down and hooked
the little electrical field generator on to the phone cable in the hallway. Tam could hear the sudden burst of
crackle in the receiver. Jim jerked it away from his ear and looked at it as if it was a snake.</p>
<p>"Damn thing, half deafened me." He hung up. "Must be in a tunnel."</p>
<p>"Aye, well. Here you are. I have to get a signature."</p>
<p>The documents would probably have passed a perfunctory scrutiny in any case, but Jack had not been prepared to take
that chance. Jim called to Jessie again and got her to bring in the file and he opened it on the desk, leaning
forward to peer at the text.</p>
<p>"Damn and blast. Jessie, have you seen my specs?"</p>
<p>"It's just a standard repo agreement," Tam put in. "Mr Kerr knows all about it, y'ken? It's all fixed. I can leave it
with you, but they trucks have to go today, like."</p>
<p>Jim hesitated, wondering what to do.</p>
<p>"Bugger it," he finally said. A day wouldn't make any difference. He signed the sheet and Tam made a production of
peeling a back copy away. Jim stuck it in the file.</p>
<p>"You got the keys?" After Jed's night foray they already had spares, just in case this whole thing went wrong and
they had to come back at midnight, but he had to go through the motions.</p>
<p>"On the board. They're marked with the numbers."</p>
<p>"Aye, right." Tam reached for them, snatched and got himself out of there. Jed stayed at the back door, making sure
no-one was about, then motioned them forward. Jack sneaked in, got in the cab and started up the big diesel. Jim
McGuire watched as the silver tankers pulled out, with Jack taking the lead, as Tam had never driven anything that
size before. Jed ducked back in and palmed the static gadget and by the time he got back to the bottling hall, the
big shutter doors were closed again and the tankers were gone.</p>
<p>They got to the burgh boundary and Jack slowed to a crawl near the Drymains roundabout and took a side track that led
down by the old castle access road that was banked on either side by the tall walls that used to hem in the
shipyards. They stopped here and Donny pulled up in Willie McIver's van.</p>
<p>They began hauling the blue tarpaulins out from the back. The rest of the boys worked quickly, dragging the tarps
over the big silver cylinders and tying them onto the stanchions, while Tam used the electric drill to screw on the
fake plates. The whole operation took fifteen minutes and then they were off again. They headed out past Drymains
towards Barloan Harbour, then took a left up to the old Overburn estate grounds and when they reached the height,
they had a tricky turn up to the big forestry commission spruce plantation. Donny opened the gate and the tankers
eased through, taking the forest track for half a mile and then backing into an even narrower track. Tam only killed
one spruce sapling and that was good going for him.</p>
<p>"You better hope there isn't a forest fire," Donny said.</p>
<p>"We'll chance it for two days," Jack assured him.</p>
<p>The next day, the police were swarming all over the dairy, and Andy Kerr was really in the thick of it. Of all the
crazy things they did that summer, that was the one that gave Jack Lorne the most guilt.</p>
<p>But if they were going to do everything he planned, they had to have Andy's big tankers.</p>
<p>It hadn't been hard to figure out what Sproat had been up to with Kerr Thomson on the night Tam and Ed fixed the
pipes in Aitkenbar Distillery. The three of them had sat round the kitchen table late in the afternoon when
everybody else was out, and they'd gone through what the pair of them had seen. Jack had questioned them closely and
had modified his plan just a little, realising Sproat would fall heavily for the chance of some extra cash and
knowing he had made himself vulnerable. The following day he was back on the web again and set up yet another
company, digging in to the dwindling petty cash. Once again he got a re-direct on the mail and made sure Margery
Burns was well briefed. She was a demanding woman, but so well placed that her importance was strategic, and Jack
decided that all was fair in love, war and business, and just so long as Jed and Kate never found out, well he could
handle it. He hoped.</p>
<p> The faxes came in from Aitkenbar in the next few days and Jack took two calls direct from Sproat, calls that were
diverted from the land-line to his mobile, and Sproat never knew the difference, especially when Margery Burns was
handling the link.</p>
<p> "Michael, good to speak to you again. I think we can accommodate that request."</p>
<p> Jack punched the air, then held his hand up for total silence, Tam and Ed held still. </p>
<p>"That's terrific. My people will be well pleased at that. How soon do you want to get this done, for I know time's
pressing for us both."</p>
<p>"You come down here on Wednesday and I think we can do business. Maybe we could take in a quick nine holes if the
weather holds."</p>
<p>"Sure, that would be fine. Maybe we can make it interesting, Alistair. Perhaps a pound a hole."</p>
<p>"I'm sure we can do better than that Michael."</p>
<p>Jack hung up. "He's going for it. He'll probably go for more, greedy little reptile."</p>
<p>Tam looked at Jack's new hair colour. "You look just like your Dad, God rest him."</p>
<p>"I know. That's why I'm scared to go home. It would freak my mother. You, on the other hand, look like a child
molester. You think maybe you could take that daft beard off?"</p>
<p>Jed got a dose of the jitters because the following day the agent came down from the dealership to collect the
tankers and found them gone. At almost a hundred grand each, the theft was a very big deal in a small town like
this. Chief Inspector Angus Baxter handled this one personally and he took it personally too. He had Andy Kerr in
for a full day of querstions, and Jim McGuire for longer than that, dragging them through the details.</p>
<p>"It's clearly a fake," Baxter said. He had that slow island way with him, speaking the way DJ from Dunvegan did, as
if he was translating from the Gaelic into English every time he opened his mouth. That made him sound slow, but he
was sharp as a tack. "It's a forgery." He pronounced it <em>four-cherry</em>.</p>
<p>"I know that," Kerr said. "Unless Carson Convoy are at it."</p>
<p>"Do you think they are?"</p>
<p>Andy shook his head. "I don't know what to think. All I know is I was waiting for them to come down and take the damn
things back and now they're gone."</p>
<p>"And who else knew?"</p>
<p>"Everybody knew. It wasn't any big secret they were going. I don't think anybody knew when, though. I had to lay off
some people and the tankers were too big an oncost."</p>
<p>"Yes, I understand you have had cash flow problems. And these tankers, they'd be worth a lot of money?"</p>
<p>"Nearly a quarter of a mil.....what do you mean?" Andy's face was getting greyer by the minute. "Are you suggesting I
had anything to do with this."</p>
<p>"I'm never <em>suchesting</em> anything at all," Baxter said. "I'm chust inquiring."</p>
<p>Jim McGuire had it just as bad.</p>
<p>"And where were your glasses then?"</p>
<p>"On my desk."</p>
<p>"And you couldn't find them when you signed this <em>fourcherry</em>?"</p>
<p>"No, I couldn't. This chap with a Newcastle accent showed me the thing and said it was all okay. How was I to
know?"</p>
<p>It went on like that all day, with the rep from Carson Convoy relaying the details back to his head office and the
messages coming back that Andy Kerr was in the deepest shit imaginable and he'd better have a good lawyer. The whole
thing just spiralled down to a real mess.</p>
<p>"I feel really rotten about this," Jed said. "I mean, he's done his level best and we've gone and landed him well in
the shit."</p>
<p>Jack felt the same way, and he'd always known he would. That had been the difficult part, knowing the cost and still
going ahead with it.</p>
<p>"We'll make it up to him," he said, hoping he was right.</p>
<p>"How? Visit him in the Bar-L? He looks as if he's been hit by a truck. I really don't know if I can do this to
him."</p>
<p>Jack rounded on him. "Sure Jed. You want to pull out now? Maybe go talk to Baxter. What are you going to say?"</p>
<p>"I only said..."</p>
<p>"Only losing your nerve. Come on Jed. You back out now and we're all in the shit along with Andy with absolutely
nothing to show for it. We all go down for stealing the trucks that were going back to the dealers and we haven't
even had a chance yet."</p>
<p>He breathed out through pursed lips, as if he was letting off pressure. <em>Casualties of war. You keep them to a
minimum. </em>He clapped his hands to Jed's shoulders. The others watched silently. </p>
<p>"Come on man. You have to hold on. I told you could lose your shirt, but not if I can help it. And as for Andy, well
the business is going down the stank anyway, so if it comes sooner, then it makes hardly a splash, does it? If I can
help him, I will, but we have to get this thing done first. You have to trust me, right? It'll all come good."</p>
<p>Jed bit his lip. There was no bad in him. Everybody waited. They all felt guilt for Andy Kerr.</p>
<p>"Aye, sure," he finally said, head down. Jack felt a wrench in his belly. It was another hurdle he didn't need.
Another burden.</p>
<p>They were back in Gillespie's boat down at the sandy point where the river joined the Clyde. The first meeting was
only weeks past, and it seemed a whole lot further away than that. Tam had got rid of the hair and the beard, but
Jack was still wearing the grey and keeping out of sight. </p>
<p>Margery Burns had been determined to find out what was really going on, when she brought him the news.</p>
<p>"You're face is melting," she had hissed at him, taking him completely by surprise and his heart seemed to leap up
and lodge under his chin. "Into the bathroom, quick!"</p>
<p>She dumped the coffee, grabbed him by the elbow and hustled him into the ladies toilet round the corner from Sproat's
office.</p>
<p>"What a mess," she hissed again. "Was that you on Thursday?"</p>
<p>He nodded, trying to peer over her shoulder past the tampon machine. She leaned in.</p>
<p>"Just what are you up to, Mr fake-face Lorne?"</p>
<p>"No time," he managed to get out.</p>
<p>"Plenty of time. He's just taken a call from Trading Estates, those mall developers. He's never less than twenty
minutes. This is more than just a union thing, isn't it."</p>
<p>He managed to see himself in the mirror. A piece of latex was peeling away from his nose, like flaking skin. <em>Jesus,
I don't need this</em>, he thought.</p>
<p>"And it's not just the Charter protest either. You have me intercepting phone calls and outgoing mail and then you
turn up in a disguise like Val Kilmer in The Saint."</p>
<p>She reached up and smoothed the latex a little, leaning in close. "Tell you what though, you suit the distinguished
look."</p>
<p>Margery reached down to her bag and rummaged inside. "Here," She brought out a small sticking plaster. "It's the best
I can think of, unless you want to tell him you've got leprosy."</p>
<p>"Thanks Marge, you're a lifesaver."</p>
<p>"And you can dispense with that phoney accent with me. You sound like a thick Ulster oaf. Like my dear and very
soon-to-be-<em>ex</em>-husband."</p>
<p>"Is it working?"</p>
<p>"Passable," she said. "But tonight you're coming round to my place and you're going to tell me everything."</p>
<p>"What about Jed?"</p>
<p>"Don't you worry about Gerard," she said. "What's for him won't go past him, and after being stuck with that
dead-head of mine for twenty five years, I'm wasting no time. Life's for living. He can enjoy it while he lasts. And
so, young Mr Lorne, can you."</p>
<p>His heart was slowing down. She had him by the shorts and there was no getting round it. He wondered if she'd have
the bottle to know it all. It was bad enough bringing his uncle into it, but a woman? This woman? </p>
<p>"You're playing golf today?"</p>
<p>He nodded.</p>
<p>"Right. He hooks, so you'll get him on the ninth, thirteenth and fifteenth at least. And he cheats, so you can take a
few extra balls in your pocket, for he certainly will. And he's under a lot of pressure from these Charter people
who want the place listed, so take him for plenty."</p>
<p>She leant in even closer and nipped his bottom lip in a slow, sensuous, woman's bite and when she pulled back she was
wearing the most mischievous grin he had ever seen on a human, with the possible exception of Uncle Sandy. Maybe he
should fix the two of them up.She drew a hand down underneath his jacket.</p>
<p>"Just don't lose all your balls," she said. The quick squeeze almost doubled him up.</p>
<p>Sproat cheated shamelessly. It amazed Jack that he thought nobody noticed him, but then again, Jack told himself, if
Marge hadn't mentioned, maybe he never would have picked it up. He was a bad-tempered player and Jack could see why
he hooked the ball. He was all tight and tense on the left side, lowering his shoulder just on the strike. Jack took
a fiver on the three holes Margery had said and another four in succession. By the time they got to the thirteenth,
he was twenty notes up and Sproat was fuming, but that's the way he wanted it. He needed Sproat to get reckless.</p>
<p> "What if we double it for the final three," the other man said. He reminded Jack of the snooty members in pringle
jumpers and Ben Sherman polos who had chased them on that blistering savannah day. "Give me a chance to win
back."</p>
<p>"Sure," Jack said, easily, putting on the accent now he was sure it was working, hoping the latex wouldn't peel
further. "Whatever you think."</p>
<p>He deliberately sliced the tee shot out into the swamp and ignored the shouted offers from the three mud boys.</p>
<p>"Good that we could get this thing moving. My clients are delighted. Not at your tax though. Eighty percent? That's a
huge amount."</p>
<p>Sproat hit well down the middle. "It's killing us. That's why we're better off in the designer drinks market. It's
expanding when everything else is tightening up, takes less alcohol, and doesn't need to age for half a
century."</p>
<p>"Eighty percent tax. It's like prohibition. You look at America, what it was like back in the twenties. And Sweden,
that's even worse, you know. You wouldn't believe what they're paying for in spirits. It's got so bad they've
developed this new home brew yeast that gives them twenty percent alcohol. It keeps them comatose through the dark
winter nights. Instant hibernation."</p>
<p>"Each to their own," Sproat said. "The Customs and Excise, it's always been a law unto itself. The Scotch Whisky
Association has been banging its head on the front door of Downing Street for decades, but they're farting against
thunder."</p>
<p>Jack laughed at the mix of metaphor. Sproat just didn't realise that.</p>
<p>"Just think the profits you could make if you could push some untaxed onto the continent. Eighty percent! It would be
like a windfall would it not?"</p>
<p>Sproat nodded. Jack let it sink in. The other man lined up to the ball and was just on the backswing when Jack looked
away.</p>
<p>"Here, while we're talking I know some folk who might be interested in taking that wee distillery on Skye right off
your hands."</p>
<p>Sproat hooked so far into the marsh that he had to drop another ball.</p>
<p>The meeting had to be set up as a matter of urgency. Margery Burns slipped the note into his pocket when she helped
him on with his jacket.</p>
<p>"Face still intact," she whispered. Sproat looked up but she had turned away again. Jack took a glance at her legs
and thought she really still had it for a woman of her age. Just as well, he told himself. Sproat caught the glance
and smirked.</p>
<p>"I could maybe fix you up."</p>
<p>"Very nice thought, Alistair, but I've taken forty quid and I feel bad enough already." Jack grinned. If she knew
Sproat had said that, she'd personally strangle the little prick with one of her expensive sheer stockings.</p>
<p>She met him that night, after he and Sproat had chewed a few things over and got close to the heads of agreement.
When he'd heard there was interest in the Dunvegan distillery, Sproat's tongue had almost been hanging out, and that
had been enough to chivvy him into the first deal. He was in the bag. Mike had already printed out the contract on
his computer system. Apart from the numbers, it was word for word identical to the blanks Margery had managed to get
from the files. All Sproat could see were dollar signs.</p>
<p>Here on Gillespie's dry-landed boat they listened while he ran through the plan.</p>
<p>"Just as well we got those trucks," he said. "The decant has been switched again."</p>
<p>He didn't tell them that the change in timing was because Sproat thought he was clearing out one of the storage sheds
and wanted to get this out the way as quickly as possible. The rules of business still applied and the less people
knew, the less they could tell. And the fewer people who did know, the fewer you had to trust.</p>
<p>"To when?"</p>
<p>"Wednesday."</p>
<p>"Nobody told us," Ed said. "Are you sure?"</p>
<p>"Got it from as near the horse's mouth to smell the breath." Nobody knew about his deal.</p>
<p>Jed gave him an odd look. </p>
<p>"So now we have to get things moving. I need another ton from everybody, no cheques, no plastic and no IOU's. Just
cash."</p>
<p>"What for?"</p>
<p>"Diesel for a start. These tankers don't run on air. We have to hire a pump, so get a good Dewalt one Ed, something
that can do five thousand gallons an hour, and that's minimum. See what they've got and how heavy. Try Harcourt
Plant and if they haven't got what we need, we'll borrow one from Direct Works."</p>
<p>"The council don't hire plant," Tam said. "They're as tight as crab's arses."</p>
<p>"I said borrow from them," Jack said. "Big Shug Cannon will get us anything we want for two bottles of hooch. If it
comes down to it, we'll use drain pumps."</p>
<p>Everybody agreed with that, so there was no problem either way, but they had to move fast.</p>
<p>"Any problems?"</p>
<p>There was a silent pause. Neil looked at Donny and gave him a go-ahead sign, trying to make it look as if he hadn't,
but Jack caught it. It was all so close now that everything seemed picked out in a strange clarity, the edges
sharply defined, the colours clear and separate, as if all senses were up and working at max. He felt completely
alive.</p>
<p>"What's up Donzo?"</p>
<p>Donny's face tried to match his hair. He squirmed a bit and shuffled like a schoolboy trying to sneak his first
kiss.</p>
<p>"It's them fish you wanted."</p>
<p>"Yeah? You told me you'd got hundreds of them."</p>
<p>"Sure, I did."</p>
<p>"Good, they cost me fifty. That's our venture capital. A big investment."</p>
<p>"And then they died," Donny admitted and his face turned pure scarlet. "I had them in a tank, but it must have got
too hot in the sun, so they all cooked. I only discovered it today."</p>
<p>"That's okay. We don't need them alive."</p>
<p>"No, you don't understand. They <em>cooked</em>, man. I've got a tankful of mush, know what I mean? It's like
stickleback chowder and it smells to high heaven. It would make you puke."</p>
<p>"Great," Tam said. He looked at Jack. "What the hell did you need fish for?"</p>
<p>Jack didn't even respond to that. He rounded on Donny.</p>
<p>"Well, I paid fifty and I want fish. Just go and get some more."</p>
<p>"My wee brother's gone to scout camp," Donny said helplessly.</p>
<p>"I don't care if you have to go down the burn and hook them out with your teeth. But if we don't have a decoy,
everybody will know what's happened once we move. Just make sure you get them, right? That's your job, and we don't
have time."</p>
<p>"I might need some more dough."</p>
<p>Jack looked at Ed. "Give him a bullseye from the kitty." Ed opened the tin and flicked out the two tens and a five.
Donny took it sheepishly.</p>
<p>Jack breathed out. "Anybody else?"</p>
<p>This time Neil did the sand-dancing. It was hot in the boat and he had big damp patches under his armpits.</p>
<p>"Okay Neil man, you got the floor. Hit me now."</p>
<p>"Listen Jake, I did my best, honest."</p>
<p>"You only had to feed the birds Neil, what's the but?"</p>
<p>"They think I'm their mother, that's the but. I did like you said and it worked just like clockwork. I've got them
coming right round the back of Aitkenbar. But now if I get inside half a mile of the place they go berserk. You were
right about the popcorn, they're hooked on the stuff. But they go totally crazy for it. And they follow me all over
the place, but the noise would wake the dead, man."</p>
<p>Jack put his head in his hands, elbows on the little formica table. Sunlight streamed in the brass porthole and he
felt a little bubble of hysteria build up. All of a sudden it just burst out and a fit of uncontrollable giggles
shook him.</p>
<p>"Jesus," he gasped when he could finally get a breath. "Donny screws the fish, and geese fancy Neil. What the hell
are we doing?"</p>
<p>Ed let him go until the laughter finally subsided.</p>
<p>"And then there's these rottweillers," he said. "They've brought in new security guards."</p>
<p>Jack sat back, clamping down on the laughter.</p>
<p>"Dogs now? We'll just have to get a gun and shoot them."</p>
<p>"Shoot them? Jesus Jake, are you crazy?"</p>
<p>He held his hands up. "Probably, bringing you shmucks in on anything. Christ, you can't even catch a few fish and
feed a few geese? Right. Okay. We'll do it Chaucer's way again."</p>
<p>"What way is that?"</p>
<p>"Tam, don't you ever read anything without a staple in its belly? You ever read Canterbury Tales?"</p>
<p>"Listen to the mental milkman!"</p>
<p>"You have to learn, chance fights ever on the side of the prudent."</p>
<p>"Okay, who said that one?"</p>
<p>"Euripides.</p>
<p>"You rippa dese pants," Neil came in. "I kicka your balls."</p>
<p> "Jeez. I'm chief whip to a bunch of ignoramuses. Okay, forget the culture, just stick to the plan."</p>
<p>Sandy was blunt about it.</p>
<p>"It's far too complex," he said. "The best plans are really simple."</p>
<p>"This has to be complex if we're going to get away with it</p>
<p>"You're taking on too much. Listen Jack, you've got six of you involved in it, and that's six places for a tin can to
leak like a sieve."</p>
<p>"Eight now," he said. "Including yourself."</p>
<p>"Who's the other one?"</p>
<p>"You don't want to know."</p>
<p>"It's not that nice artist girl, is it? Pretty one with red hair and all the brains?"</p>
<p>Jack shook his head. "No. She's well out of it."</p>
<p>"I wish I was too. It's okay brewing a bit of beer and making that fancy woman's stuff for the club nights. But hell
and shite, Jack, this is in a different league."</p>
<p>"You're not <em>in</em> this. Not this part of it anyway. You tell Willie we'll give him a ton for the van for one
night. Any comeback and he says it's been nicked. And all we have to do is put on the dog for Sproat, and that's
legit anyway. He's got his tongue hanging out and he's not thinking straight."</p>
<p>"Just you make sure you don't get too smart, my boy. Big Angus Baxter's all over the town like a coat of cheap paint,
and he's nobody's mug. Your mother would kill you."</p>
<p>"So don't tell her."</p>
<p>"You think I'd cut my own throat?" His uncle grinned at him, but there was concern in it. Jack caught sight of them
both in the hallway mirror and, with the grey still in his hair, he was astonished at how similar they were. Margery
Burns was right. It did make him look distinguished. For a fleeting moment he wondered if he should keep it this
way.</p>
<p>Kate had been round at the house on the pretext of asking for Jack's help in the next Starlight production, but
nobody was fooled.</p>
<p> "I haven't seen him for days," Alice Lorne said. She poured them a cup of tea. "You know what he's like sometimes.
Just goes off on his own for a while. He's got a few plans."</p>
<p>"I know," Kate said. "He told me. I said I thought it was a complete waste of time."</p>
<p>"What was that, love?"</p>
<p>"Going out on the North Sea on a supply boat. It's just manual labour with no future."</p>
<p>"Out on a boat? He never told me anything about that. It would surprise me though, for our Jack, he gets awfully
seasick, always has since he was small. Are you sure that's what he told you?"</p>
<p> She asked Jed and Neil when she met them in the street, stopped at the traffic lights on River Street in the souped
up Skoda that Jed was still working on for the stock racing. It sounded like a hog with a sore throat and looked
like it was held together with string and duct tape. They were about to pull away when she climbed in the back and
leant on the roll-bar,</p>
<p> "Where are you guys off to?"</p>
<p>They were heading down to Gillespie's boat for the meet. Neil and Jed exchanged fast glances and she caught that
right away.</p>
<p>"A big secret then, is it? Just for the boys?"</p>
<p>"No!" They both replied at once.</p>
<p>"Oh really. And of course I believe you. Anybody seen Jack?"</p>
<p>They looked at each other again.</p>
<p>"Haven't you?" Neil asked.</p>
<p>"Now would I be asking if I had?" She leaned forward between them. "What's going on, boys? I hear Jack got a neat
haircut, and a wee birdie tells me he's gone and had it coloured."</p>
<p>"Who told you that?"</p>
<p>She laughed out loud, hanging on to the roll-bar. They were transparent to her.</p>
<p>"More secrets? I think I've stumbled into the masons."</p>
<p>"No, honest, Kate. I haven't seen him for days. He's got a job on a boat somewhere."</p>
<p>"And he hasn't told his mother?"</p>
<p>"It's just a try-out," Jed put in too quickly. "To see if he likes it."</p>
<p>She sat back, thinking. Jed slowed down at the bridge, hoping she'd take the hint, worried in case Jack came round
the corner.</p>
<p>"You sure he's not getting all tarted up for a couple of Swedish bimbettes?"</p>
<p>"Come on Kate. That was just a one night," Jed said.</p>
<p>"And he never put a hand on them," Neil interjected quickly. "Honest."</p>
<p>"So he's gone to sea, has he?"</p>
<p>"Far as we know," Tam said, trying to keep his face straight. They dropped her at the corner and she was still none
the wiser. But later in the afternoon she met Michael, and he was no match for her at all.</p>
<p>Gus Ferguson was also looking for Jack Lorne. He'd put the word around the Corrieside boys, who would always exchange
a tip for a bottle of Buckfast wine, but in the past couple of days, nobody had seen him or heard a thing.</p>
<p>The Irish connection had him beat, and he'd even made a couple of tentative inquiries up the city, just in case. You
never knew, with all these nutters out of the Maze and lots of time on their hands and here on the Clydeside, the
sectarian thing was still in the blood. You never knew who was related to who back in the old country. Wiggy Foley
had hit it on the head when he said he didn't know whether Lorne was a Tim or a Prod and at the end of the day
Ferguson still didn't know either. He'd found out Lorne's father had been Catholic, and his mother protestant, so he
was a half-caste in these parts. He could jump any way at all.</p>
<p>Guns: They put a different slant on things. Cullen and Foley, they were never the most reliable at the best of times,
solid muscle from ear to ear, and generally handy enough for a bit of shoving and shaking, although in recent days
he'd had to revise his estimate of their worth. Who knows what had happened in Whitehead's scrap yard. Somebody had
pulled a gun and almost singed Wiggy's ear, and that changed the situation. So far he hadn't heard the story
repeated on the jungle drums, and that was a good thing, because it meant he still had some face, but it would
eventually get out and he'd have to take some swift action to put that right, once he'd found out who and what he
was up against.</p>
<p>Lorne, on the other hand, seemed to have done a runner. Nobody had seen him anywhere and that could be a plus
depending on how you looked at it. Maybe Seggs and Wiggy had given him a tanking, despite the evidence to the
contrary, and maybe Lorne had buzzed off to lick his wounds. It could be that, but Ferguson didn't think so. Maybe
he was just lying low. He certainly had no team to back him up, not in this town.</p>
<p>But who was that masked man? It wasn't the Lone Ranger and it wasn't Batman either, Ferguson told himself. And the
stranger spoke with an Irish accent.</p>
<p>Which part of Ireland? North or South? Belfast or Dublin? No-one knew.</p>
<p>What Ferguson did not know was that he had passed Jack twice in the past two days, and once was on the golf course.
Alistair Sproat had waved him through when his ball had disappeared into the scrub and had given him the nod. The
big fellow with him had tipped his cap, but he'd been wearing mirror sunglasses and Ferguson couldn't tell where
he'd been looking.</p>
<p>The second time was when he was collecting personally from that mouth Watson's aunt Jean Bailey, standing on the
front doorstep to let all the neighbours know. She was a thin woman with hair dyed the colour she was sure she
remembered having some years back and it made her look like a Swan Vesta match. No matter what he'd said to Watson,
there was no chance in hell he'd put it to this skanky bitch.</p>
<p>"Haven't seen your Donny in a while."</p>
<p>"Me neither," she said, keeping her voice flat. She needed the dough week on week, just like the pawnshop, so she
wouldn't offend him if she could help it. Times were hard.</p>
<p>"That's a shame. I was hoping we could have a chat."</p>
<p>"I thought yon Cullen already spoke to him."</p>
<p>"Don't you worry, Ginger. It's not him I'm looking for. But I hear he's in with a bad crowd. Somebody should just
point him in the right direction, maybe give him good advice."</p>
<p>"Oh yes. You?"</p>
<p>"Has to come from somebody, Jean. You let him know it could be worth his while. And I tell you what, honey. I'll make
it worth your while too. I never forget a favour, know what I'm saying?"</p>
<p>"Okay. I'll let him know then."</p>
<p>He squeezed her just above the hip, one handed, like he was copping a quick feel.</p>
<p>"Good. See you next week then and see what we've got."</p>
<p>He drove away in the Jag, through Drymains and close to where Lorne had turned up to see the boys off. He slowed down
when he passed the Lorne house, just in case, and speeded up again, round the corner and along the straight. At the
far side of Drymains, close to where it gets to Gooselade, he passed Sandy Bruce's house. The old man was in the
front garden, talking to some other fellow. The man turned, saw him and kept on turning as if nothing had happened,
but Ferguson was long in the tooth and he had eyes on the back of his head. He knew he had been clocked.</p>
<p>Was that the Irishman? He had to find out.</p>
<p>Margery Burns followed the note up with the call and he dropped in just after he and Ed sneaked back in to Tim
Farmer's to pick up the mail. There was more behind the door this time and fortunately, no nonsense in front of it
and no police around. They were probably all out looking for the two tankers.</p>
<p>"Just what are you up to, Jack Lorne?" It was the third time she'd asked it, and about the tenth time he'd heard
it.</p>
<p>She was standing behind him, as he sat at the kitchen table, hands on his shoulders, squeezing them gently and trying
to be seductive, but it just helped ease the tension out of his shoulders. </p>
<p>"Just trying to give Sproat a taste of his own."</p>
<p>"Sure you are. But it's got nothing to do with the closure, that's for sure, nor the unions. They've accepted the
deal, damned weaklings."</p>
<p>"Best you don't know."</p>
<p>"So you're up to something illegal."</p>
<p>"I wouldn't say that," he lied.</p>
<p>"Then it's got something to do with that stack of barrels of three-year-old you're trying to con out of Sproat."</p>
<p>"How did you know about...?"</p>
<p>"Don't be daft. I'm the original eyes and ears. Knowledge is power, that's what you say, isn't it?" She chuckled.
"So, are you going to let me in on it?"</p>
<p>"Honest Marge, it really isn't a good idea. You can always say you never knew a thing."</p>
<p>"Oh, I'll say that anyway, don't worry your head about that. But so far I've snaffled the outgoing mail you wanted,
and I've diverted phone calls, and I've looked up some paperwork I shouldn't, so I'm in it, whatever <em>it</em> is,
no matter what. And I'm thinking I'd better know what to do when whatever it is that I'm not supposed to know about
takes place and various solid things hit the air conditioning."</p>
<p>He closed his eyes, enjoying the back rub, but thinking about Kate and Jed and feeling guilty. She ploughed into the
silence.</p>
<p>"Now, remember you wanted me to clock somebody out. Eddie Kane, wasn't it? And he got sent home the next day, first
thing in the morning just after I clocked him in again."</p>
<p>Jack stiffened and she slapped the back of his head, almost motherly. "Sit still. I don't do this for everybody, you
know."</p>
<p>She chuckled again. "So he got sent home an hour after I clocked him into the building. What I'm wondering is, where
was he all night? And if I put two and two together, I'd say he was inside Aitkenbar all night."</p>
<p>God, she was sharp as cut glass. Jack wouldn't want to be her soon-to-be-ex by the time she was finished with
him.</p>
<p>"Then I'd be wondering <em>what </em>he was doing all night," she said, still kneading, enjoying this now. So was he.
He had to admire her. "I know what <em>you </em> were doing for some of it."</p>
<p>He couldn't strangle the sudden smile.</p>
<p>"So here we have you trying to look like Al Pacino." She bent forward and pecked his cheek. "But a whole lot better
looking than that scrawny wee Italian. You get anxious when I tell you the next decant has been put on hold. You get
me to clock your friend in and out."</p>
<p>She paused. She had him. "Am I getting anywhere?"</p>
<p>"Maybe." If she could work it out this far, maybe anybody else could.</p>
<p>"So now I'm wondering, should I tell you that the decant date has been shifted again?"</p>
<p>He froze.</p>
<p>"Gotcha."</p>
<p>There was nothing for it but to bring her in.</p>
<p>Sometime later, when it was almost dark, she leaned over and cupped the back of his head, pulling him a little
closer.</p>
<p> "You think I can get a BMW roadster out of this operation, young man?"</p>
<p>She chuckled mirthfully in the shadows.</p>
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