now, then the bad people can look out.
`Now I'll surprise you. I don't really think you did these things. I look into your eyes and I know that you haven't the bottle to kill, or order it done. Yet I've been wrong about people before, and the facts before me tell me that any jury would say I am this time. So my twenty-four-hour warning still stands. I'll take my people off surveillance, for now. But if by this time tomorrow you haven't put my mind at rest over cousin Rocco, you'll be arrested and charged.'
He released the quivering American's tie. 'Now you can go and enjoy the rest of your day. I won't be at the Murano dinner tonight; I've got other things to do. But that doesn't mean I won't be thinking about you.
`Remember, give me Rocco Andrade Andrews within twenty-four hours or you'll find yourself in a clubhouse that's a hell of a lot less comfortable than this one!'
Sixty
Sarah leaned across the dining table and tilted her wine glass first to her left, and then to her right, towards the two men who sat on either side of her.
`You don't know, you two guys, how much I've wanted us to be sat around this table, the way we are now. You don't know either, how hard it's been for me to hold myself back from taking the two of you and banging your heads together.'
She sipped her Barolo. 'But I knew that if I let you work it out in your own way, and in your own time, it would all come OK in the end.'
Andy Martin leaned back in his chair and smiled. Jazz was sleeping on his shoulder, drooling quietly on to his denim shirt. 'You know, don't you,' he said, 'that alongside my mum, you two are the best friends I have in the whole damn world. I wanted to put it right too, but the pride in me held me back… that and the fact that I didn't know how to go about it, or whether Bob wouldn't tear the front out of another shirt if I tried!'
He stroked the sleeping baby's back, absent-mindedly, as he glanced to his left, to the fourth, unoccupied side of the rectangular table. 'I was going to say that I couldn't be happier, but of course, that wouldn't be quite true. Not for any of us, I suppose.'
`Well, my friend,' said Bob, 'that's something else that has to be left to work itself out in its own time.'
And it will,' said Sarah. The question is, how do you feel about Alex now, after the explosion, and now that you've seen the other side to her? When she comes back, how will you want it to be?'
Andy eased Jazz off his shoulder and into the crook of his arm. 'Like it was, of course. I love her. There was a time, all of a sudden a few months ago, when I realised that I had stopped thinking of her as a kid, as an honorary niece, and when I realised that she was all I'd ever wanted in a woman; bright, beautiful, clever, exciting and mature.' He chuckled, softly and sadly. 'Only maybe not quite as mature as I thought!
`Looking at her in that new, different way, it was like I was meeting her for the first time.
And it was the same for Alex. We were scared at first. We both said, 'Wait a minute, what is this?' But then we both said, 'Why not? Why shouldn't it be?' The trouble is we should have said the same thing to you two, rather than letting Bob find out the way he did.'
Sarah put her hand on his. 'Andy, we weren't there for you. We were wrapped up in ourselves and in our new baby. Maybe if you had said something, we wouldn't have been in the frame of mind to listen, and we'd have given you the wrong answer.'
`So what's the right answer, Sarah?'
As far as I'm concerned, whether you're asking me as Alex's stepmother or as your friend, it's that it's for you and she to run your own lives, and that neither Bob nor I have the right to interfere in them, even if we choose. If you ask me what I hope for, I hope that you two can work it out, because — apart from us — I've never known two people who were as right for each other.'
She drained her glass, and put it down on the table. 'But enough. Give me back my baby, and go and do your male bonding thing. To the pub, both of you. Just don't wake this fella by rolling in drunk!'
`Don't worry, love,' said Bob. 'I've got a big day tomorrow. I couldn't let my captain down by turning up on the tee with a bad head.' He rose from the table and beckoned Andy to follow.
'Come on, son. Let's see what the nightlife's like in Gullane these days.'
They made their way together past the three cars parked on the grass in front of the cottage, along the twisting path to the road then down the sloping Goose Green towards the village's main street. As they walked, Bob described his golf, fulsomely, and that of Atkinson. The man plays the game like God. In fact, when he stands up on that tee he thinks he is God, with complete power over the ball. When I'm up there with the guy, in front of the crowd, every so often I have to pinch myself mentally, to reassure me that it's real. But every so often I'll remember what got me there in the first place, and what Ali and you and the troops are investigating while I'm out there doing my best for Michael. This has been the most bizarre week of my life, and I've a feeling that there's more weirdness to happen yet.'
Aye,' said Martin. 'It would be nice if we could wrap things up tomorrow by finding Andrews and having our scientists help us complete a nice tight case against him and Morton.'
Only if they're guilty, son, only then.'
`Come on, let's see how the beer is in the Golf.'
The clock on the wall above the bakery showed, accurately for once, that it was just short of 10 p.m., as Skinner led Martin along to the old Golf Inn Hotel, set slightly back from the rest of the buildings on the Main Street. The public bar was at its busiest as they entered. Skinner looked around and saw several familiar faces, some friends of long standing. 'Hi, Tony, John.'
He returned the greetings of two of them as he and Andy wedged themselves into a space at the end of the small bar, their backs to the door. They studied the list of the evening's guest ales on tap, but decided to stick to the heavy beer for which the village pub was renowned.
As they took their first mouthfuls, Andy dug Bob gently in the ribs. 'Hey, I'm sorry for taking that swing at you the other day. I don't know what came over me. All of a sudden your chin was there, and I just couldn't stop myself. Afterwards, well, it was just OK again, but I'll never know what made me do it.'
`Cathartic, Sarah would say,' muttered Bob, quietly. 'It was something you needed to do, something I needed you to do, I think, for everything to be squared away between us. You were well entitled. That morning I behaved like an absolute collar and front, as a little English chum of mine would say. I've never acted like that in my life before, without judgement or reason.'
Oh no? What about that time with that guy, when Alex was in danger?'
Bob stood silent for a few seconds. 'No,' he said, eventually. `Not even then.'
`Yes, but maybe you thought that she was in danger again. You had just finished a stressful investigation and taken a real hammering in the process. I've thought about it too. I reckon that you had a sort of post-traumatic reaction, and that all sorts of irrational things went through your mind.'
`Snap! That's what Sarah thinks, too. I guess I'll just have to buy it as a theory. Best if I do.
Once or twice, when I've had to face up to the bad guys, something's come out in me, a side of me that scares me shitless. It's not just what I'm able to do, it's how I feel immediately afterwards, right in here.' He tapped his temple, lightly. 'Sort of satisfied, fulfilled. It's primitive and barely controllable, and if it ever came out in a crisis within the family…
`just for a second I thought that was happening that morning.'
`Balls, Bob. That's balls. I've seen you in action, remember. And I've never once seen you do anything I wouldn't have done myself. As for your reaction, that's the survival syndrome. If you're in a situation where your very life is at stake, and you come through it, your first thought's bound to be one of triumph. Remember that time when we had the gunfight, and big McGuire was shot? When we'd downed the guy, I remember standing over his body, and thinking, 'You won't do that again, you bastard!' without a trace of remorse, though I'd just put four bullets into him.
All that, it's part of the job. All of us who do it have that beast inside of us, but what marks us out from the other people is that there's no way we'd ever take it home.'
Bob looked at his friend. 'You know, Andy, we should have had this conversation a long time ago. In all
