He watched her weave towards the toilets and when she disappeared from view he drained his glass of wine and made his way to the till. He found the redheaded waitress had changed roles and she totalled the bill and printed it off to show him. He carefully checked the bill. When he’d finished he looked up and saw the redhead watching him.
‘We don’t cheat our customers, even if they’re not policemen,’ she said.
‘What makes you think I’m a policeman?’ he replied and put his credit card into the terminal.
‘Shirt and tie with a battered old leather jacket. Nah, you’re not a lawyer, too much muscle for that and that also rules out doctor, dentist, banker and that lot. Your partner is a lawyer though, I saw her once at the high court.’
Douglas laughed. ‘Ever thought of joining the police?’
Susanne arrived, took Douglas’ arm, and led him away. Once they were up the stairs and walking along the street she said: ‘I think she was for the defence, Douglas.’
‘Never mind, darling, the vetting procedure catches the dodgy ones. Anyway, let’s get you home before the wine takes effect.’
‘Before it wears off, you mean.’
He put his arm around her waist and squeezed her gently. ‘Luckily, home is only a few minutes away.’
Chapter 11
Monday
The atmosphere was subdued at the morning conference as the members of the MIU filtered into the room. Douglas stood at the back listening to quiet conversations until Julie, who did her trick of pressing her chest onto his back, joined him.
‘Where were you at the weekend? I have the gold Spandex dress now and you were nowhere to be seen,’ she whispered.
Douglas was only half listening. ‘OK, how about lunchtime.’ Only after he’d said it did he fully take it what she was talking about: Never mind she only wants to show it off.
Nicola entered followed by Willis and Caddell. At the front of the room Nicola and Caddell sat in chairs facing the crowd. Willis stood and began: ‘We have a report from Edinburgh that a van with a girl, fitting the description of Annabel Sutherland and two men were stopped by a patrol car on Sunday night. The van fits the description of the vehicle used in the abduction but the number plate was different. It was a routine stop about a faulty taillight, the driver fixed it and they were allowed to proceed. The officer noted the girl appeared to be very friendly with the two men.’
Willis paused while the audience absorbed this information before he continued. ‘We have a second report from Edinburgh that the same van was involved in an attempted break-in at a Cash and Carry warehouse on an industrial estate on the south of the city. The CCTV cameras caught two men wearing dark clothing and balaclavas, with a third person driving the van. The attempt triggered the alarm and the two got into van and it was driven away by the third person. Comments?’
A babble of comments, most of them unprintable, filled the room. Eventually Douglas raised his hand.
‘Ashburner, do you have a sensible contribution to make?’ Willis commented.
‘Is it worth getting in a Forensic psychologist with knowledge of hostage situations?’
Willis paused for a moment. ‘I’ll consider that…does anyone else have a comment or suggestion?’ He scanned the room. ‘Right, nobody, I’ll proceed to today’s main task, which is this evening’s raid on the Blind Piper.’
*****
‘Who is this woman?’ Susanne said.
‘Heather Woods, she studied psychology,’ Douglas replied.
‘And what position does she hold at the University?’
‘She works in the Admissions Department.’
‘Oh great, not a real expert witness.’
‘Don’t be like that, she’s been helpful,’ Douglas said and pushed open the door to the café. Susanne followed him inside. He spotted Heather sitting at a table near the back and he made his way through the crowded room to the table with Susanne trailing behind him.
Douglas began: ‘Hello and thank you for taking the time to help us. This is Susanne Glendinning from the Fiscals office; she has an interest in this case.’
‘I didn’t realise they scrutinised what the police were doing so closely,’ Heather said.
Douglas pulled out a chair for Susanne and he took the chair next to her. Susanne gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Most people get their ideas about the law and policing from television and most of the programmes are made south of the border. The situation north of the border is different; it’s more akin to the continental system.’
‘Annabel’s disappearance could be more complicated than it first looked and we were wondering if there is anyone in the Psychology department who could give us an overview of this.’
‘I can give you a quick run through of the subject,’ Heather suggested.
Douglas nodded. ‘OK, let’s start with the Stockholm syndrome.’
Before she could continue, a waitress arrived to take their order. After she departed Susanne asked why she worked in Admissions.
‘After I graduated a temporary job was advertised in the department covering a girl’s maternity leave, but she never come back and the job was eventually made permanent.’
‘You’re planning to stay there?’
‘No, but the job options are a bit limited unless I do a PhD and that takes a lot of money these days.’
‘About the Stockholm Syndrome,’ Douglas said to get the conversation back on track.
Heather composed herself again before starting. ‘The syndrome was named after a Bank siege in Stockholm, where the hostages held in the bank emotionally bonded with the robbers and took their side.’ She paused as the waitress arrived with two baguettes and a paninni on a tray and waited until she departed before continuing. ‘There is the opposite effect as well: the Lima Syndrome. In this the hostage takers bonded with the victims. The kidnappers become sympathetic to their victims, rather than the victims becoming sympathetic to the kidnappers.’ Heather looked across at Douglas. ‘Or it could be an entirely separate effect.’
‘Go ahead, I’m all ears,’ he replied.
‘Do you know the origin of your surname: Ashburner?’
‘My mother thought it was a trade name; something associated with the manufacture of quicklime.’
‘I’ll give you an alternative origin, have you heard of the Border Reivers?’
He nodded.
‘In the Middle Ages the Reivers terrorised the region on the border between Scotland and England. The Douglas clan were Reivers and one part of the clan was the worst of the lot. No family would allow their daughters to marry them and rather than just die out they resorted to kidnapping. If a woman took their fancy they would raid her family home and the man would pick up the object of his fancy and sling her onto his horse and ride off with her.’
‘The woman didn’t get a choice in the matter?’
‘If she cried for help, struggled and attacked her suitor the family would call a Hot Trod and set off in pursuit. Also, the man might well get sick of all the struggling and yelling and throw her off the horse. On the other hand if she didn’t cry for help, or struggle, the family would assume she was willing and they wouldn’t set off in pursuit.’
‘I see, but where does my surname come into this?’
‘They raided so often and ferociously they were burning the ash of their last raid: Ash-burning in other words and they reduced the land to a complete and utter wasteland of ash. Anyway, the girl would either accept her kidnapper as her husband, or if she didn’t, she would resist or escape. This pattern of marriage also occurred in other parts of the world at different times, sometimes in just a token act of kidnap.’
‘Keep this to yourself, but Annabel was sighted by a patrol car on Saturday in a van in the company of her alleged abductors,’ Douglas said.
Heather shot back in her chair. ‘Why didn’t they rescue her?’
Douglas hesitated. ‘How shall I put this? She was driving the van at the time, quite professionally from wh
at we saw on the video.’
‘Ah.’ Heather said. ‘Oh dear, this is not good, sounds like some of your clan have been busy again.’
‘Oh?’ Susanne interjected.
Heather thought for a moment: ‘Active rather than passive participation, suggests she has bonded with them and adopted their lifestyle. She will probably also have a sexual relationship with them.’
Heather looked so shaken with this thought that Douglas attempted a smile for her and added: ‘Don’t get too hung-up on this, she’s alive and kicking as far as we know.’
*****
Outside the café Heather left them to return to the University. Douglas and Susanne headed back towards the city centre. As they walked Susanne looped her arm through his. ‘Your mother is sniffy about your father’s family being in trade; imagine what she would say if she knew they were the worst cattle thieves in the Borders.’
‘Well, I trust you are not going to tell her about Heather’s theory,’ Douglas replied.
‘Oh, I think I’ll keep that story in reserve.’
‘What are you doing now?’
‘I’m going to buy a dress, Douglas, and you can help me choose it.’
‘Where are we going for this garment?’
‘Sauchiehall Street, it’s not much out of your way back to work.’
‘What’s there?’
‘Oh, one of my colleagues recommended a shop called Ann Summers.’
*****
Nicola stopped at Douglas’ desk and fixed him with a glare. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I was on the way back to the office after talking to Heather Woods when I remembered about buying a new hard drive for Shona Doherty.’
‘Mm, did you buy it with your own money?’
‘I’ll put a claim in; she has the receipt for the old one and the presentations officer wouldn’t let that one go, so the DCI has agreed we can buy her a new one.’
‘OK Dougie, take it over to her and ask her for Tony Doherty’s whereabouts, we need to get hold of him.’
‘Should I take Tanya with me?’
‘She’s more likely to give you an answer if you’re on your own.’
*****
Shona opened the door dressed in a long black skirt and a pink and white woolly jumper. She craned her head out of the door and had a good look around. ‘Where’s the chaperone, Douglas?’
‘I’m on my own; I need to ask you a question.’
‘Of course you do; come in.’
Douglas stepped over the threshold and she closed the door. He handed her the new drive. She took it and tossed it onto the sofa. ‘I’ve got a new one already,’ she said and grabbed him by the hand. ‘You should have phoned ahead and I would have dressed for you.’
Before he had time to react, her arms were round his neck pulling his lips down to hers. Thrusting her body towards his, she ground her lips onto his. He kissed her back and opened his mouth and her tongue slipped into it. He put his arms around her and felt the pressure of her breasts and pelvis as his hands moved downwards over her body. After an age she let him go. He didn’t resist as she led him to the bedroom.
*****
‘You’d better have a shower before you go,’ Shona said.
He stood looking down at her naked body on the bed. She looked up at him: ‘What did you want to ask, Douglas?’
It took him a second to remember the second reason for his visit. ‘I need to ask Tony about the jig-a-jig thing with Annabel Sutherland.’
‘I suppose you do.’
‘Can you pass him a message; we need to clear up where he fits with the two men that appear to have abducted her?’
‘I get it.’
‘Where is he at the moment?’
‘He’s in holiday in Spain, at my mother’s place,’ she said and rolled over onto her back.
He ran his eyes up her legs to the black triangle of hair prominently displayed on her smooth tanned belly.
‘When will he be back?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know…I’ll phone him…now come back to bed, you obviously need some more jig-a-jig.’
*****
Tanya stepped off the subway train and paused to look at the other passengers as they stepped out onto the platform. There were only a few, mostly elderly, and she was able to memorise their faces. She waited until the doors closed and the train moved away, before turning towards the exit. As she neared the exit of Kelvinhall station she pulled the collar of her coat up and her hat down. In the street the wind tore at her hat threatening to tear it from her head so she seized the flapping brim and walked quickly along Dumbarton Road towards the museum. The instructions in the text had been concise: 1pm, Kelvinhall Museum, by the Spitfire. Typical of the man, his messages had always been the same, concise, to the point: No Dear Ms Vidak preamble, no Thank you postscript.
In the Museum she found the Spitfire without difficulty – it was suspended from the ceiling over the hall. She walked up the stairs and leaned on the balustrade looking at the graceful curves of the machine; her Grandfather had told her many times of his years flying them during the war. He’d shown her the photographs of his Spitfire with the men of his squadron arraigned in front of it, and told her of their exploits in the air over England. Even now she could recount the fates of those fliers and the names of those who survived the war. Her grandfather had been lucky; he’d been invited to join another kind of war…
‘What’s going on?’
The voice startled her out of her reverie and she looked round to see the tall Englishman, his grey overcoat still buttoned against the wind outside.
‘I’ve been frozen out,’ she replied, knowing he required a succinct answer.
‘Why?’
‘Nobody knows. Collins and Ashburner spend all their time working together, everyone else gets orders and no information. Also Stone, the Special Branch man, has been sniffing around.’
‘Get into her office and have a look though the files – find out what she’s hiding.’
‘A large safe was installed in her office this morning and a locksmith came in, presumably to reset the combination.’
‘What about Shona Doherty?’
‘Nothing new, they went out yesterday afternoon without telling anyone where they were going – probably to see her. The investigation has been compartmentalised; Collins is smarter than she looks.’
‘Can you get closer to Ashburner?’
‘I can try, but he has been asking questions about my background.’
‘It would be better if the wheels don’t come off this bloody operation. I will set up a meeting for you with Anthony Doherty.’
Her face must have shown her surprise, as the tall man smiled. ‘Don’t worry; he’s been ours for a long time. If needs be, remind him retirement is not an option in our business.’
‘The reason for this meeting?’
‘Find out what our man Doherty knows about the bloody business with the bank.’
‘When will this meeting happen?’
‘Tonight, I’ll send instructions, Doherty knows the place well.’
She nodded and turned to leave.
‘Wait for five minutes,’ he instructed. ‘I’ll go first; you can continue contemplating the aeroplane. I recall your Grandfather flew one during his illustrious career.’
*****
Douglas tried counting the number crammed into the conference room and gave up at thirty-four; the crowd of sweating police officers shuffling around in the pungent atmosphere rendering the attempt useless. He reckoned the number of useful bodies at about twenty-five discounting the command officers and the firearms team: they would only be used if the report of firearms on the premises was judged by the commander to be credible. A nervous tension pervaded the room, everyone knew the reputation of the Blind Piper, every customer would have some reason to hate the police and violence was definitely on the agenda for this evening’s raid.
Douglas shuffled through the throng until he stood next to J
ulie. She was fully dressed in body armour and a trickle of sweat ran down her face. She gave him a half smile. ‘What are you doing after this, Douglas?’
‘Going to bed. It will take half the night to sort out the paperwork if they are right about the Blind Piper.’
Superintendents Willis and Dalkeith entered the room with another officer in plain clothes. Willis called the room to order. ‘Listen up, I want this operation to go smoothly and that means you lot need to understand who is doing what. Everybody needs to be aware that firearms may be present at the Blind Piper and we have a firearms team available to deal with that. Now, before I allocate tasks, synchronise watches; I make it twenty-one-twenty and…’
Douglas tuned out the rest of Willis’ words until his name was mentioned and he found to his surprise that he was teamed with a Sergeant McBeth’s squad to cover the rear of the Blind Piper.
*****
The black eight-seater crew bus had a slide-down steel riot shield mounted on the roof, ready to cover the windscreen if things turned nasty. The burly driver sat impassively while Douglas walked up to the open passenger door. ‘Is this Sergeant McBeth’s vehicle?’
The driver looked over at him. ‘You Ashburner?’
Douglas nodded.
‘There’s a seat in the back,’ the driver said and went back to staring straight ahead out of the windscreen.
The inside of the vehicle stank of a mixture of sweat, cigarettes, stale farts and day-old aftershave and tension. The only vacant seat in the back was on a double seat beside the solitary female in the squad. They were all dressed in black with almost the full set of riot gear: helmets and armour on arms, legs and chest. Three small and two full size riot shields cluttered the central aisle of the van. He could sense something wasn’t quite right about this squad – usually the women PCs would be accepted as part of the team and even protected to some degree, but this team seemed to be dysfunctional and she was out on a limb.
‘Watch out Terry, Dougie there will have you in his fan club in no time and in the club before you can say oops!’ The tall one in front said over his shoulder. Douglas seemed to remember from the briefing his name was Frank.
Shallow Water Page 18