Resurrection

‘Cheer up.’

‘Sorry, I’m trying to come to terms with the distinct possibility that I’m not going to be able to forge the link between the institute and the outbreak and it’s getting me down.’

‘Maybe absolute proof isn’t needed,’ said Karen. ‘The circumstantial evidence is just so strong that it just about precludes anything else.’

‘I was brought up watching films where strong circumstantial evidence was nearly always proved wrong in the end. Circumstantial was a dirty word.’

‘Maybe in films,’ said Karen. ‘But in life it’s different. If it looks like a rat and it smells like a rat, it almost invariably turns out to be, a rat.’

Dewar called Malloy, only to be told that Malloy had run the same checks on Hannan that he had on Kelly and again drawn a blank. There was no obvious link between Hannan and the institute either. A final call to Barron confirmed that there had been no change in the position with the Iraqis. Abbas and Siddiqui were still there and they were still just waiting.

‘Just like us,’ Dewar whispered to himself as he put down the phone and crossed to the window. ‘For that damned vaccine to come.’

There was a red glow in the sky to the west. He thought at first it was down to street lighting — the ‘light pollution’ from cities that astronomers complained so much about but then he decided its source was more sinister. He went downstairs and asked the Scottish Office people in the communications room.

‘They’re rioting in Muirhouse,’ said the one liasing with the police operations room at Fettes Headquarters. ‘Situation’s getting out of hand. Three major fires and they won’t let the fire brigade get near them.’

Dewar listened in to the radio traffic for a few minutes before deciding to drive up to police headquarters to see if Grant were there. He found him in his office, eating cheese and pickle sandwiches and monitoring the situation on police radio. His feet were up on his desk. He waved a welcome with his sandwich and indicated to a chair.

‘What d’you think?’ asked Dewar.

‘The commancheros are coming,’ replied Grant between mouthfuls. ‘See the glow in the sky? That’s Tulloch’s career going up in flames. Live by the book, die by the book.’

‘You don’t think he’ll contain it?’

‘Not a chance now the yobs have scented power. He thought he could out-manoeuvre them, show them who’s boss but they know what they’re doing. Look here.’ He got up out of his chair and approached the map on his office wall. They started fires here, here and here. Grant used his forefinger, leaving three greasy prints on the plastic. They set fire to cars in the middle of the road, stopping police access, then they set fire to this building.’ Another greasy print. ‘The building was empty but they were making a point. The fire brigade couldn’t get near because of the blazing cars in the road and the fact that their officers were stoned when they tried to pull them out of the way.’

‘You said they were making a point?’ said Dewar.

‘They were showing Tulloch who was really in control,’ replied Grant. ‘They’ve taken over this whole area now and it won’t be easy to get them out.’

‘But why?’ asked Dewar.

‘God, they don’t need a reason. Their natural loathing for any kind of authority is enough. When you combine that with instinctive animal cunning and a situation like they’ve got down there, it’s a recipe for disaster. Evil rules OK.’

‘But the ordinary people living in this area,’ said Dewar. ‘What about them?’

‘They’ve just had a change of government,’ said Grant. ‘Fear is now the ruling currency. They’ll do what the yobs tell them or they’ll be taking flying lessons from the balconies in the flats.’

‘What a mess,’ said Dewar.

‘I think it was always going to be that,’ said Grant.

DAY SEVEN

The army was called in at 3am to take over manning the barriers so that more police officers would be available to patrol the streets. The soldiers — infantry from Redford Barracks on the south west side of the city, had been on full alert since the decision to go for physical containment had been taken. Their officers, now familiar with street lay-out of the area after several days studying maps supplied by the local authorities, had impressed upon their men the delicacy of the operation. Their role was to maintain the integrity of the line, nothing more. Their presence was to be kept as low-key as possible.

They moved quietly and efficiently into position when called upon and took over manning of the barriers with a minimum of fuss. One police officer was retained at each barrier site to liaise between civilians and the military should this prove necessary. In the event, the barriers were not challenged to any significant degree during the night.

In the estate itself, sporadic outbursts of violence continued into the small hours with stolen cars being set alight and police vehicles attacked with bottles and stones. Windows were broken, street lighting damaged and an electricity sub-station put out of action so that two tower blocks were plunged into darkness with no prospect of repair until order had been restored. Two policemen were injured by flying glass and four youths taken into custody. It should have been many more but police confidence had taken a pounding.

Things quietened down around six in the morning when the first streaks of daylight in the eastern sky signalled an end to the night and called a natural halt to the proceedings. As with so many things in life, a new day heralded a new beginning.

Tulloch looked as if he had aged ten years overnight when he arrived at the Scottish Office. There were dark circles under his eyes and such an air of weariness about him that Dewar thought he might well be ill or injured. Pride made him insist he was just tired but his eyes showed signs of defeat. He had badly misjudged the situation. His earlier success had encouraged him to think that he’d established a natural respect for law and order and he could come down hard on any troublemakers. Zero tolerance had been the wrong option to go for. The yobs hadn’t read the same text book he had. They’d just been waiting for night to fall.

The team was joined this morning by Major Tim Hardy, the officer commanding the troops from Redford Barracks. Although it had been left to the team to decide when troops should be called in, they had been briefed at the outset of the outbreak and their ‘terms of engagement’ decided by Scottish Office ministers. Hardy reported that his orders were to hold the line using minimum force at all times. His men were to remain strictly outside the affected area, leaving matters of civilian law and order to the police. He looked towards Tulloch who avoided his gaze.

‘What exactly is the position this morning?’ Finlay asked Tulloch, who was now gratefully nursing a mug of black coffee, using it to warm his hands as well as his insides.

‘We’ve had to concede control of about one third of the containment area.’

There was a stunned silence in the room. Tulloch continued, ‘There came a point when I though it best, in the interests of keeping casualties to a minimum, that my men retreat and set up lines of containment outside the epicentre of the trouble..’

Finlay asked, ‘Are you saying that we now have a containment area within the containment area?’

‘If you want to put it that way.’

‘You’re saying we now have a no-go area within Muirhouse?’ said Dewar.

Tulloch nodded. ‘You’d think the bastards had been planning this for years,’ he said bitterly.

Mary Martin looked puzzled. She seemed to have difficulty formulating her question. ‘Am I being stupid or are you saying that with things as they are, none of us can reach the population inside this area?’ she asked, making a sweeping gesture over part of the map on the table.

‘I’m saying that my officers cannot guarantee the safety of anyone entering this part of the estate. In fact we’d have to advise strongly against it.’

‘So the yobs are running the show,’ stated Mary.

Tulloch looked down at the table.

‘And the contacts? How do my people reach them? And the social service teams? And the vaccine when it arrives. How do we set up vaccination centres in an area controlled by a mob? What exactly do we do now,