The operation was set up and ready to go in an hour. We’d even sourced a drawing from the local authority planning department showing the layout of the place. There was no rear driveway. That made things simpler: no getaway option. There were woods behind the house, accessible from the adjoining estate, and uniformed officers were on the way there, to cut off any escape route. I still had one logistical problem to solve, though; a personal one. Daisy Mears had an exhibition opening that evening in a gallery in Dunbar, and dinner afterwards with the owner and his wife. I called my fallback, privately.
‘Of course,’ Alison said, when I asked her. I didn’t go into detail, or mention firearms; I told her that something had come up and I was committed, that was all. ‘It’s not a problem. I take it that Alex has keys.’
‘Yes, she has. And she knows the alarm combination.’ Something came into my head, and I released it. ‘You should have a set too. In fact, when you go out, why don’t you take a suitcase and leave some clothes in the wardrobe. It’ll make it easier.’
She laughed, softly. ‘And a toothbrush in your jar?’
‘That too. You can even use my toothpaste.’
‘As long as it has stripes. When can I expect you?’
‘Dunno. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way home.’
‘Do that. Good luck with whatever it is, and take some good news with you. Things have moved on in my, your other, investigation. You won’t have to go in that helicopter after all.’
That’s what you think, I whispered, just as I hung up.
Seventeen
‘Go on then,’ Alison demanded. ‘You’ve eaten, and you’ve nearly finished your second bottle of red. Are you going to tell us what happened, while you still can?’
‘Yes, Pops,’ Alex chipped in, ‘we’ve been patient for long enough.’
‘Out of deference to our guest,’ I reminded her.
DI McFaul was staying over. I’d offered him the use of our spare room, and he’d accepted. A night alone in a hotel room would have been unthinkable. We were both high. It had nothing to do with the Tempranillo either; we were flying on natural fuel, high-octane adrenalin. We’d made it home just after nine and killed the first bottle before we’d even sat down to eat.
‘Let me tell the story,’ Ciaran said. ‘I saw the whole thing; Bob missed the first part.’
I held up a hand to pause him, and checked my watch at the same time: ten past ten. Before I’d opened my mouth, my daughter was on me. ‘Pops,’ she warned, ‘if you say, “Time for bed, young lady,” there will be war.’
I gave in. ‘One’s enough for today; go on, Ciaran.’
‘Good.’ He looked around the table. ‘Are we sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin. So there we are in this chopper…’
‘What?’ Alison exclaimed.
‘This helicopter.’
‘They got him in a helicopter?’ she gasped.
‘It was only a wee one,’ I pointed out, ‘and it wasn’t going very far. Ciaran, don’t be put off by heckling.’
‘I love it when you’re merry,’ Alex laughed.
‘So there we are,’ the Geordie resumed, beaming at her, ‘in this chopper, coming down in the man’s driveway like Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now… hinnie, all we needed was to be playing “Ride of the Valkyries” through speakers. We land and the three of us, me, Bob and Jeff Adam, jump out. Your dad goes round the side of the house and the two of us head for the front door. Jeff’s got this ram, battering ram, enormously heavy; he can hardly lift it. He hits the door with it. Normally one tap and we’re in but this just goes “Boing!” and bounces off, because the door’s made out of steel. Remember this, pet, and it’ll see you through life: people with steel front doors invariably have something to hide.’ He was pushing it with the “pet”, but Alex was too engaged to protest.
‘So he gives it another thump, and still it doesn’t budge. Finally on the third swing it does give, but the ram rebounds again and Jeff lets it slip. Thud! It lands on his foot. And did he scream? Did he ever! Like a Sunderland striker when he gets tackled. They think he’s broken a couple of bones. So there we are, this amateur FART team.. .’
‘What?’ Alex’s eyes bulged.
‘It’s a Tyneside nickname, pet, Fast Action Response Team, except they’re not really called that. Anyway, there we are, one of us hopping about on one leg and the other a stranger in town. Not an auspicious start.’
‘What happened after that?’
‘Ach, by the time I got to where I was supposed to be your dad had arrested the guy; show over.’
I reached across and touched my daughter’s hand. ‘And with that, love…’
She smiled. ‘I know, it’s over for me too. All right. Night, Pops. Good night, Ciaran. Good night, Alison, and please don’t let them keep me awake.’
‘I won’t,’ my occasional bidey-in promised. ‘See you in the morning.’ She waited until the door had closed and for a few seconds after that, before continuing. ‘Now tell me what really happened.’ Earlier while I was changing, I had given her a quick rundown on Hastie McGrew, and about the raid on his father’s house. I had left out most of the detail but as soon as Ciaran had mentioned helicopters and battering rams, her police officer’s brain had drawn conclusions.
McFaul’s expression changed; his head slumped a little and the humour left his face, as the last of the action juice wore off.
‘What happened,’ he repeated, ‘… was that after that bloody sergeant’s performance, when I got in there, where I was supposed to be, our man was waiting for me, and he was armed. He had the drop on me. Holmes was in his pool, being floated by his masseur or nurse, whatever he is. That caught my eye first and when I looked at his son he had a gun on me. I was looking right down the barrel, Alison, and I couldn’t move. He told me to drop mine, and I did. I saw his eyes narrow and I said the fastest Hail Mary! I’ve ever managed in my life, for I really did think he was going to fire. And that’s when Bob shot the gun clean right out of his hand from the patio door. Personally, I’d rather he’d hit him in the head.’
‘I could have,’ I told him, ‘but the hand was the safer target, for you, not for him. He could have pulled the trigger by reflex.’
‘You might have missed.’ He shuddered.
‘I don’t, from that far away.’
He chuckled, grimly. ‘I didn’t know that. All I could think was that I didn’t have any spare underpants.’
Alison was anxious. ‘He didn’t give you any more trouble, did he?’
‘No,’ I assured her. ‘He couldn’t. His left hand’s pretty much useless, as a result of a service injury. After a year of feeding his father, for a while he’s going to find out for himself how that feels.’
‘Where’s McGrew now?’ she asked.
‘I had him taken to the Royal A amp;E, under armed guard, to have his hand fixed. The bullet went through the base of his thumb and out the other side. As soon as they’re ready to discharge him, he’ll be moved to Fettes. He can have his sister’s old room; I released her as soon as we’d secured Hastie.’
‘And what about their father?’
‘Perry? He’s still at home. We’d no grounds to arrest him. Suppose we had, where would we have taken him? No, we left him with his nurse, and there are officers front and back of the house. It’s not that he’ll be going anywhere but I don’t want the press to get near him.’
‘How did he take it?’
‘Have you ever met Perry?’
‘No.’
‘Good. He was raging after it had all happened. It was almost frightening to see, all that anger contained in a body that’s quite unable to move. He was naked in the pool, and that made him even more furious. Vanburn took
