by Iain Colvin
Blake stepped forward, dug his hand into Craig’s inside pocket and pulled out his chequebook and card wallet. Craig held his breath, praying that he didn’t check his other pockets.
Blake opened the plastic chequebook sleeve and felt inside the flap. Nothing. He checked the plastic card wallet. ‘Hold on,’ he announced. Inside was a small silver key, similar to the one he found in Claire’s house. Blake held it up to Craig’s face. ‘This is a safe custody key.’
Craig said nothing.
‘It’s worth checking, professor,’ said Blake.
‘Last chance, Mr Dunlop,’ said Clive Prior.
Craig said nothing.
‘Take him to the bank,’ said Clive Prior. ‘Not you, Blake. Patrick, you take him.’ The professor stood face to face with Craig. ‘If you’re not back in twenty minutes, Miss Rankin will lose an eye.’
Blake produced a knife with a six-inch folding blade.
The professor continued. ‘If you come back empty handed, she will lose both eyes.’
Chapter 42
Craig and Anson left the hotel at 10:35. They walked down Princes Street side by side. There was no need for Commander Anson to hold a gun to Craig’s back, or to grip his arm. Craig was in no doubt about what would happen if things didn’t go according to plan. They entered the bank, and joined the queue of customers waiting to be served. The early morning rush was over and there were only two tellers serving. Anson decided to take a seat at a small table provided for customers to fill out bank slips. His eyes didn’t leave Craig’s back for a second.
Craig was third in the queue and he tried to calculate whether he would be served by Amy or the other teller on duty. He hoped it would be Amy. A customer went up to the other teller. She was a pensioner who produced a deposit account passbook and proceeded to fill out a pink withdrawal slip while she chatted to the young man behind the counter. Craig was now second in the queue.
A couple of minutes passed and the young woman in front of him approached Amy’s telling position. She was wearing a pink nylon tabard over a jumper and jeans. Her dyed red hair was in a spiky pony tail high on the top of her head. Craig guessed she might be from a hairdressers’ nearby. The girl handed over a £5 note and chatted to Amy while Amy rummaged in her cash till. Meanwhile the old age pensioner was putting her passbook and her purse back into a cavernous handbag.
Amy pushed a bag of silver coins through the hatch to the pony tailed woman, who called a loud ‘Cheerio’ and hurried back out the door. Craig approached the counter and Amy smiled as she saw who her next customer was.
‘Amy, hi.’ Craig pulled a white pay-in slip from a slot in front of him, turned it over to the blank reverse side and hastily began writing. He hoped against hope that the watching Anson would think that he was filling in a routine request to access his safe custody box, even though the box didn’t exist and even if it did, the bank didn’t use such a thing as a safe custody access request slip.
He shifted his position very slightly to try to make sure that he blocked Anson’s view of the teller, and he passed the slip through the glass. Amy picked it up and looked back at Craig in disbelief. She read the slip again:
Amy, you know me because my photo was in the papers. I am in trouble. I am being watched right now. DON’T REACT. Press your bandit alarm NOW and take me through to an interview room. I will explain there. PLEASE TRUST ME.
***
Clive Prior looked at his watch. 11:03.
‘Mr Dunlop is late.’
‘It’s a Monday morning. The banks will be busy with weekend pay-ins from local businesses,’ said Lynn.
‘Perhaps.’ Clive Prior looked out of the window at the street below. He saw plenty of pedestrians, but none of them was Anson or Craig. He watched the traffic on Princes Street for a couple of minutes.
‘What do you want me to do?’ asked Blake.
‘Nothing yet.’ He turned to face the three hostages, perched on the bed. ‘You know history, Doctor Irving. A ship’s company was always assembled before discipline was meted out to any member of the crew who had committed a misdemeanour. We should wait for your young friend to return so he can witness the punishment.’
Fiona shuddered but she had regained enough composure to look Clive Prior dead in the eye. ‘Do you mind if I use the bathroom?’
‘By all means. But please don’t take too long.’
‘Will I go with her?’ asked Blake, gesturing to the bathroom door with his gun.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary, Blake.’
Fiona went into the bathroom, and after a few seconds the others could hear taps running.
Lynn looked up at the professor. ‘What do you intend to do with us?’
Clive Prior smiled. ‘That depends on you, Mrs Simon. Will you keep your mouth shut?’
Lynn looked at Brian then back at the professor. ‘Of course we will. No one needs to get hurt.’
Blake stifled a laugh. He looked at his watch. 11:09.
‘This is taking far too long,’ he said. A thought occurred to him. ‘Come to think of it, I don’t see how it could be in a safe custody box. They didn’t arrive here until yesterday or Saturday at the earliest, and the banks didn’t open till 9:30 this morning.’ He raised his gun and pointed it at Brian’s forehead. Brian screwed his eyes shut, realising that he had no more time to buy.
There was a knock on the door. It was a simple one, two, three knock from clenched knuckles, not the distinctive one plus two plus one tap favoured by Anson with only the back of his middle knuckle.
Clive Prior motioned to Brian for him to answer. Blake kept the gun pointed at Brian’s head. ‘Ask who it is and what they want,’ he whispered.
‘Who… who is it?’
‘It’s Melanie from reception, Doctor Irving. Just confirming that you’ll be checking out this morning?’
Brian looked at the professor. Clive Prior gestured for him to answer.
‘Yes thanks, I’ll be down in a few minutes.’
‘I’ve made up your bill for you, sir, I’ll just leave it with you if I may.’
Everything then seemed to happen at once, but in slow motion. The door handle began to turn, and Blake moved towards it, swinging his gun away from Brian and towards the intruder. His attention was distracted momentarily when the toilet in the bathroom flushed. As his head turned towards the noise, the bedroom door burst open. First through the door was a uniformed policeman, who took two steps into the room before Blake shot him in the chest. A second policeman appeared right behind the first. He pushed his mortally wounded colleague to the side in an effort to reach the gunman, and Craig was third through the door. He launched himself full length at Blake like an inside centre diving for the try line. Blake fired again and a pain unlike anything Craig had experienced before exploded through his chest. It was a blistering, blinding pain that instantaneously robbed him of his breath and caused him to twist in mid-air. His momentum carried him forward and he crashed into Blake’s trunk with his right shoulder, knocking him to the ground with Craig on top of him. A second later, two more policemen were on top of Craig.
Chapter 43
Tuesday 22nd March, 1983
‘Hello?’
Pause.
‘Hello, Craig? Can you hear me?’
Pause.
Craig couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t move anything. Wait. He could sense light through his eyelids. Open them. Open them. Open them, Craig.
Where was he? He blinked once. There were ceiling tiles. They might be polystyrene ceiling tiles, or maybe not. Where was he?
A face leaned into his line of sight. The face was blurred. Craig couldn’t tell who it was, it might have been a man.
‘Can you hear me, Craig?’ The blurry face looked away. ‘Nurse. Nurse.’
Another blurry face leaned in to peer at Craig. Maybe a woman this time.
‘He’ll be drowsy. A combination of the anaesthetic, the blood transfusion and the pain relief. Lie still, Mr Dunlop. D
on’t try to move.’
Someone fiddled with something in his arm. Craig closed his eyes.
Chapter 44
Wednesday 23rd March, 1983
‘Craig, can you hear me?’
Craig opened his eyes. He moved his lips but nothing came out. A straw was put to his mouth and he gratefully sucked in a little cold water. He swallowed and his tongue and throat burned. He took some more and the burning subsided a little. He blinked twice and slowly the world around him started to come into focus.
‘Mum?’
‘Oh Craig, thank God. Thank God.’ Tears streamed down Marion Dunlop’s face. She squeezed his hand. ‘We’ve been so worried.’
‘Mum?’
‘Shh, you need to rest now. We can talk later.’
Chapter 45
Thursday 24th March, 1983
By Thursday Craig was able to sit up, eat a little, and talk for spells before he became too tired. The medical staff made sure that the pain in his chest didn’t become unbearable, but the police needed the answers to dozens of questions and so the doctors performed a balancing act, allowing him to be sufficiently alert to be interviewed but stepping in and administering more morphine when the pain became too much.
The door to Craig’s hospital room opened and in walked Bruce Cowie, his most frequent visitor, apart from his mum and dad. Cowie’s team had spent the past three days gathering evidence and piecing together testimony from people who had come into contact with Craig since the day he hitched a lift out of Stranraer. They’d even tracked down the Rangers-supporting lorry driver who gave him the lift.
‘Good morning Craig, how are you feeling today?’
‘Morning, DI Cowie. Still sore.’
‘Understandable given the size of the hole in your left shoulder. Best not move too much. Are you feeling up to talking for a bit?’
‘Okay, they’ll probably be back in to top up the drugs soon though.’
Bruce Cowie moved a chair and sat down next to Craig’s bedside.
‘How’s Fiona? Have you spoken to her again?’ asked Craig.
‘Miss Rankin is fine, Craig. She’s going home to Edinburgh with her parents.’
Craig visibly slumped. He’d been told that Fiona had visited the hospital every day since he was admitted, but he hadn’t seen her because he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness all the time. He was disappointed beyond words. Hers wasn’t the first face he saw when he came round and he so wanted it to be. And now she was going home.
‘Are you okay?’ asked DI Cowie.
‘No,’ said Craig.
Later that afternoon the police came back to see Craig. DI Cowie and a uniformed officer entered the room.
‘Hello Craig, been awake long?’
‘An hour or so.’
‘The doctors say you’ll be fit enough to move tomorrow. They’ll take you through to Glasgow.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’ve got one or two questions for you.’
‘Okay. Can I ask you something first?’
‘Sure, what is it?’
‘My parents told me about the policeman that Blake shot in the hotel room. Was he married?’
‘Yes, he was.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He was. Two people had died because of his grandad’s wallet. He hadn’t pulled the trigger but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty. He couldn’t think of anything else to say apart from, ‘I did tell the police that Blake was armed.’
‘You don’t have anything to apologise for,’ said DI Cowie. ‘It was your quick thinking that saved four lives. Five if you include your own. Doctor Irving is convinced that they were planning to kill you all. Having said that, if the bullet that hit you had been another couple of inches further south, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’
DI Cowie produced a cellophane bag with the white bank slip inside it. He held it up and read it.
‘Amy, you know me because my photo was in the papers. I am in trouble. I am being watched right now. Don’t react. Press your bandit alarm now and take me through to an interview room. I will explain there. Please trust me.’
The detective looked over at Craig. ‘That was quick thinking on your part.’
‘I was just lucky. I thought she might not to do as I asked. Amy saved five lives, not me.’
‘You knew it was a silent alarm. Clever.’
Craig sighed. ‘Not really. I guessed it would be the same as the one in Stranraer. No sound in the branch, but the police station is alerted. I’ve set ours off by accident before. Swarms of police show up within five minutes. It was the only thing I could think of.’
‘That was clever with the Dictaphone too.’
‘Well, playing the recording to the police saved time,’ said Craig. ‘I’m grateful that they took me seriously.’
‘And you should also be grateful that they went in through the kitchen entrance at the back. Brian and Lynn said that Prior was constantly checking the window facing Princes street. I have a question for you though. How did you know that Commander Anson wouldn’t shoot his way out when the police arrived?’
‘I didn’t know. I had to risk it. A public shootout in a Scottish bank would be the last thing he’d want. Or so I hoped.’ Craig suddenly felt the pain in his chest come back with a vengeance. ‘I’m sorry, can we talk later, DI Cowie?’
‘Of course, I’ll look in this evening.’
Craig was given more pain relief and then he drifted off to sleep. When he awoke, he could smell perfume. He recognised the scent.
‘Fi?’
‘Hi there stranger. Welcome back.’ Fiona leant over and kissed him softly. ‘It’s good to see you. Your mum tells me you were lucky. I couldn’t go home without seeing you, how are you feeling?’
‘Better for seeing you. How are you?’
Fiona’s smile faded. ‘Not good. I haven’t been able to sleep since it happened.’
‘I know.’ He knew why. ‘I’m sorry.’
Fiona said nothing. She took a handkerchief from a pocket and dabbed her eyes. ‘I just don’t understand it, Craig. I don’t know how you could let them do that to me. I had to see you. I had to ask you. Why?’
Craig thought his heart would burst wide open. He knew he should never have put her in danger. It was unforgiveable. No, it wasn’t as simple as that. He was lying to himself. He knew the truth. The plain, awful truth was he’d allowed it to happen. He’d allowed them to point guns at her. To threaten her with disfigurement and worse. He’d protected the peace document when he should have protected her. He’d seen her fear and just when he should have moved heaven and earth to protect her, the one person she should have been able to trust let her down. Again. Craig felt the pain in his chest and grimaced. The pain became unbearable.
All he could think of to say was, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You used me, Craig.’
‘No, Fi, don’t say that, please.’
‘Explain it to me then.’
But Craig couldn’t give her the explanation she wanted to hear. His eyes told Fiona all she needed to know. She was right. When the moment of truth came, her safety had been secondary to his needs.
She squeezed his hand. ‘I hope you get better soon. Goodbye Craig.’ She stood up and left without looking back.
Craig called after her. ‘Fiona! Please don’t go…’
But she was gone.
At seven o’clock Bruce Cowie returned. He didn’t take a seat, standing instead at the foot of the bed. After exchanging small talk for a moment, the policeman fell silent. Craig could see that he wore a strange look on his face.
‘What is it?’
‘There are some things I haven’t told you.’
‘Like what?’
‘You need to know something. Anson is protected,’ said Bruce Cowie.
‘What?’
‘We can’t touch him.’
‘But why? He was involved in a conspiracy to murder.’
‘That’s as may be. MI6 have pul
led rank on us. He’s being posted overseas with immediate effect. He cooperated fully with us however. Remember I told you that he called off his man, the one holding Nicolas Simon.’
Craig remembered. Then he knitted his eyebrows. ‘And Blake?’
‘We bartered Anson to get Blake. Blake has been charged with two counts of murder. Footprints we found in Claire’s house match his boots. And now we have the tape you recorded. He’s being held in custody in Glasgow. Commander Anson was flown to London by his own people.’
‘And Clive Prior?’
DI Cowie cleared his throat. ‘Em. That’s the second piece of news.’
‘What?’
‘The professor was flown south along with Anson, and released.’
‘You’re kidding?’
‘I’m afraid not. Part of the same deal. But that’s not the news I was referring to.’ Bruce Cowie gripped the rail at the foot of Craig’s bed. ‘He was found dead this morning. He hanged himself in his own study.’
Craig felt more fatigued than he’d ever felt in his life. The old professor had evaded the justice due to him after all he’d put them through.
‘One last thing,’ said Bruce Cowie. ‘What was the document they were searching for? The one they mentioned on the tape.’
Craig had been preparing for this question. Now was the moment of truth. He sighed again, deeply. ‘It was the original copy of the letter I found in my grandad’s wallet. Brian had it, but he’d already returned it to my parents.’
‘It wasn’t in the bank at all?’ asked the detective.
‘No. The key I had was for a safe custody box in Stranraer, not in Thurso.’
‘That was a huge gamble. Was it worth risking your life and the lives of your friends for an old letter?’