Brennan turned down the corners of his mouth. ‘Lauder? He’s as straight as me.’
‘This is Calton Hill. Something you want to tell me, boss?’
‘Fuck off… Come on, and bring that torch.’
Brennan took off for the car park; McGuire jogged behind him. As they passed the National Monument they spotted Lauder parking up. Brennan turned, flagged McGuire to stop.
He crouched behind the base of the Monument. ‘What’s going on?’
‘He’s getting out, hang on.’ Brennan ducked back down.
‘Did he see you?’
He peered over the rim. ‘No. He was just checking.’ Brennan watched Lauder walk towards a small hatchback. He looked round again, then opened the passenger door.
‘Right, follow me. Stay out of the road, though.’
Brennan hugged the bushes all the way up the side of the gravel path. When the gravel gave out he stuck to the grass verges and crouched low to the ground. As he got closer to the car he saw there were two people inside. He could make out the silhouette of their heads as they spoke. Edging nearer, Brennan saw the car was a small red Astra — it looked vaguely familiar.
‘Do you recognise that car, Stevie?’
Headshakes. ‘No. Should I?’
Brennan smiled. ‘Maybe not.’ He held out his hand. ‘Give me the torch.’
‘What are you going to do?’
Brennan looked over to the car; the two heads that had been sitting up had disappeared. ‘Wait till you hear those springs going, then follow me.’
‘Christ, has he got a bird in there?’
‘Better hope it’s a bird.’
The car started to move, almost imperceptibly at first, but then with more force. Soon the suspension screeched.
‘Right. Let’s go.’
Brennan made his way swiftly to the car. He got level with the passenger door before he put the torch on. The windows were steamed up as he tapped on the door. He pointed McGuire round to the other side of the car as he removed his warrant card and leaned over, opened the door.
‘Hello, there.’
There was a shriek from the girl on the back seat.
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Lauder.
Brennan smiled, looked in, warrant card in hand. ‘Think you better get your pants on, Ian.’
‘Fucking hell, it’s you!’
‘The very man,’ he pointed to the other window, indicated McGuire, ‘but not alone.’
Lauder did a quick left-to-right. The girl on the seat started to whimper.
‘Hello again… Aylish, isn’t it? From the News if I’m not mistaken.’
Lauder arked up, ‘I’ll fucking swing for you, Brennan.’
A laugh, tip of the head. ‘I think your swinging days are well and truly over, mate.’
Chapter 44
Brennan walked away from the car, went to McGuire’s side and directed him to start writing down the details. McGuire nodded and made himself busy. As the DC strolled around the vehicle the front door was flung open and Lauder got out. He planted his feet heavily on the ground as he stood and did up his belt buckle. His face was white; Brennan emphasised the point by shining the torch on it.
‘Get that fucking thing out my eyes,’ snapped Lauder.
‘Watch your tone — you’re talking to an arresting officer here.’
‘Jesus, Rob, you’re not serious.’
Brennan looked him up and down. ‘Oh, you better believe it.’ He peered over Lauder’s shoulder, towards the dishevelled Aylish in the car. ‘She doesn’t look very happy. Mind you, she’s probably going to lose her job as well.’ He moved towards McGuire, said, ‘Aylish Dunn’s her name… Get some details, Stevie.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Lauder tucked in his shirt tails. ‘Come on, Rob… We can at least talk about this, surely.’ He pulled Brennan away from the Astra.
Brennan smirked. ‘You’ve got to be fucking joking… You’ve been feeding this piece more than your boaby, Lauder. Do you think my head zips up the back?’
‘You can’t prove that!’
Brennan laughed, ‘I just found you up to your nuts in a reporter from the News, the same paper that’s been putting out leaked details on the force’s most high-profile murder case in a decade, and you’re asking me for proof. Fucking grow sense, lad… One speck of this dirt is enough to finish you.’
Lauder’s expression was unreadable; his eyes seemed to have sunk into his head. There was no colour left in his complexion. He looked towards the car and Brennan followed his line of vision. The girl inside was crying harder now, her face in her hands.
‘They’ll throw her to the wolves, Rob. She’s only young — her career will be over before it gets started.’
Brennan kept his gaze fixed on the young reporter. He had some sympathy for her — she’d been used. The one who deserved to pay was Lauder. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, old mate. I’ll give Stevie there the weekend to type this up. If your resignation’s on Galloway’s desk first thing Monday morning, I’ll keep her out of it.’
‘Resignation!’ He put fingers to his mouth, gasped. ‘Is it that bad?’
Brennan smiled. ‘No, mate, it’s that good.’ He patted the side of the DI’s arm. ‘Get that girl home.’
As Lauder walked away Brennan’s phone started to ring. ‘Oh, one more thing, Lauder, before you go: I want all your files on the Limping Man.’
‘ What?’
‘You heard — everything. And I want them right away, before your resignation goes in.’ He answered the phone, ‘Brennan.’
It was Lou. ‘Boss, we’ve had a development.’
‘Go on.’ McGuire walked to stand beside him, as Lauder joined the distraught girl.
‘We sent a unit round to one of the dealers on the list…’
‘Who?’
‘Serious piece of work called Devlin McArdle.’
‘Carry on.’
Lou’s voice peaked and troughed; he seemed to be struggling to get the words out quick enough. ‘The uniforms found McArdle’s wife on the living-room floor. She’d dragged herself from the kitchen with a nine-inch blade in her back.’
‘God Almighty.’
‘It gets worse. There was a child’s cradle… toys and Pampers. Neighbours said they didn’t have children but the wife was seen with a baby yesterday.’
Brennan took a deep breath. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest. ‘Where’s McArdle?’
‘That’s it, sir. No sign of him. Or the kid.’
‘Jesus…’
Lou’s voice lit: ‘There is an up to this, boss…’
‘ What ’ s that?’
‘Melanie McArdle, the wife — she’s hanging in. She’s in intensive care at the Royal. Lost a barrel of blood but she’s still with us.’
‘Is she talking?’
‘No, sir. Out cold.’
Brennan pointed McGuire to the car. ‘Right, I’m on my way there now, Lou. Plaster McArdle’s face all over the
