Assassins

by Ray Timms

  ‘I wish you would Cruid.’

  ‘I was worried that in his present state of agitation he may cause trouble so I took the precaution of having him watched. I also had some listening devices fitted in their apartment and a tap on his mobile phone.’

  ‘You sly old dog Cruid, Mary laughed. ‘You do know that commissioning the use of an illegal wiretap could have you sent to prison?’ Seeing Cruid didn’t appreciate the joke and there was something they weren’t telling her, Mary studied the men through slitted eyes.

  ‘I don’t want hear this do I?’

  ‘That may well be the case Mary,’ Cruid said and took a breath. ‘The men that I assigned to keep an eye on the King, followed him to Deacon Brodies Tavern where he met with Kelvin Boyd…’

  ‘What!’ Mary could hardly contain her rage. ‘How did you allow that to happen? I told you he wasn’t to go anywhere near the media. Especially letting him near that bloody, shit stirring, commie, Kelvin Boyd! That interfering, popinjay would love to dig up something to tarnish my reputation.’ Mary then added hurriedly for the benefit of the SG. ‘Not that there is any scandal for him to dig up!’

  ‘You needn’t worry about Boyd.’ Cruid said cryptically. ‘I have had him dealt with.’

  Mary’s eyebrows arched. ‘He’s dead! You had him taken out?’ Mary was shaking her head. ‘First you authorise an illegal wiretap, and now you tell me you have had killed Scotland’s foremost celebrity newsman! My God Cruid, you really have gone up in my estimation.’

  Cruid was quick to clarify that he had done no such thing.

  ‘I didn’t have him killed Simon,’ Cruid said turning to Cruickshank. It wouldn’t do at all for the head of Scotland’s judiciary to think Cruid was a murderer.

  Cruid explained. ‘I may have my faults Mary but never in a million years would I hire an assassin. I merely arranged for Boyd to take an overseas posting. He flew out to Syria today. He is to cover the ISIS involvement in the Middle East war.’

  Mary’s eyebrows arch. ‘Oh, lets hope he gets killed out there.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Cruid said, wondering how to broach the subject of the scroll. Out the corner of his eye he saw Cruickshank fidgeting on his chair. ‘

  ‘Mary, whilst Kelvin Boyd, is no longer the problem, the King however is.’

  ‘Were you not listening Cruid? I just told you that I have a plan that will force him to sign that bill?’

  Cruid took a deep breath. Mary was going to explode. ‘If I may be permitted to explain Mary,’ Cruid said. ‘I have in my possession a recording of Boyd and the King’s conversation.’

  ‘Yeees,’ Mary said, warily, studying both their faces. ‘And what were they discussing?’

  Cruid looked round at Cruickshank. He looked about to fall off his chair. He dug an elbow in the SG’s the ribs. ‘You tell her Simon. This is your bloody balls up.’

  Placing the flat of her hands down on her desk Dewar looked about to get up off her chair and spring over her desk and throttle them.

  ‘For God’s sake tell me.’ Mary raged.

  Finally, Cruickshank managed to find his voice. ‘After King Robert’s Coronation,’ Cruickshank began, ‘knowing that Scotland hadn’t had a king for hundreds of years, I thought it prudent to have the legal precedents reviewed. I assigned one of my most able solicitors to carry out the task.’ Cruickshank paused to look round at Cruid who had taken on a despatched attitude.

  Cruickshank gulped and then soldiered on. ‘I asked Nathaniel Gough, a junior solicitor in my office who I knew to be quite fluent in ancient Celtic dialogue to go down to the crypts beneath Holyrood Palace and have a dig around in several boxes of very old documents, and when I say, old, I mean ancient, some of them a thousand years old…’

  ‘Get to the point Cruickshank.’ Mary said testily.

  ‘Very well.’ The SG said wiping a handkerchief over his brow. ‘In a box of parchment scrolls Gough found one that had particular pertinence to our present predicament.’

  Mary could throttle the man. ‘Will you stop waffling and tell me what he found.’

  Cruickshank was a barrister and he knew the importance of carefully weighing every word. He was not going to be hurried by Dewar.

  ‘If I may be allowed to elaborate First Minister?’ The SG intoned. ‘Nathaniel Gough, when he brought a scroll to me, was in a state of great perturbation. He was flustered… yes… quite flustered.’

  ‘No more than I am!’ Mary snapped. ‘What did he find?’

  ‘He had found a thirteenth century scroll that he was able to decipher as the: “The Rights Of Kings Charter.”

  Mary felt the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. ‘So, tell me. Why is this Rights Of Kings Charter important? Surely, if it’s that old, I don’t see how it can be relevant today?’

  ‘Let me explain,’ Cruickshank said. ‘On the 23rd May, in the year 1218, at a meeting that took place in Edinburgh Castle, King Alexander the Second in a gathering of the Scottish Lairds, struck a deal. To end the continual fighting among the Scottish tribes, in exchange for vast tracts of the King’s land and several castles, the King and his descendants, would forevermore hold supreme power over the judicial, religious and governance of Scotland.’

  ‘Yes but you are talking about almost a thousand year ago for Christ’s sake Cruikshank! How is that relevant today?’

  As if he hadn’t been interrupted, the SG drawled. ‘Four hundred years after this historic arrangement, in 1604, in the Union of the Crowns Act, King James the First of Scotland became James sixth of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. He then abandoned Holyrood Palace and moved the Royal Court down to London. He and his courtiers hastened their departure needing to escape the plague that was decimating the population of Edinburgh. In their rush to tidy things up, King James and his legal team, left a few loose ends.’

  ‘Loose ends?’ Mary said narrowing her eyes, expecting this was more bad news. ‘What kind of loose ends?’

  Cruickshank hurried on. ‘The Rights Of Kings Charter that I mentioned should have been annulled. Instead, the scroll had been mislaid and forgotten about, among the many hundreds of old documents that were left behind to gather dust in the vaults of Holyrood Palace. It is a matter of inconvenience that Gough proved to be so diligent in his task. We now face a predicament.’

  ‘What predicament?’

  Ignoring another of Mary’s interruptions, Cruickshank drawled on. ‘Had the scroll not been brought to my attention, had it lain undisturbed for another thousand years we wouldn’t be having this conversation, but, sadly, here we are.’

  Mary came around her desk with an athleticism that took both men by surprise. Cruickshank almost tipped back off his chair when the First Minister took hold of him by his coat lapels. Her eyes were like that of a wolf when she snarled into the SG’s face.

  ‘In no more than two sentences, ‘Mary snarled, ‘you will tell me the relevance of this scroll, or I will tear your head off.’

  Cruickshank gulped hard. He needed to think on that. Brevity was not one of his virtues.

  ‘The scroll,’ Cruickshank managed to articulate, ‘is a decree; a charter that empowers whomsoever is on the Scottish throne the right to bring in his own laws. King Robert, in effect, should he so wish, bypass parliament and even sack parliament.’

  Mary let go of his lapels. She spun full circle with her fingers knotted in her hair she and screamed. ‘Nooooo!’

  Bent at the waist, her eyes burning like a demented beast Mary glared into the faces of her Ministers.

  ‘Where is this scroll?’ She demanded. ‘If we can destroy it before it becomes known about, we can head off this disaster.’

  ‘I… I,’ the SG stuttered. ‘I had Gough in my office and I reminded him that he had signed the Official Secrets Act and that if a word of this was to get out I would make sure that he went to prison. I had him bring the document to my office and I watched him set light to it. I saw it reduced to ashes…’

  ‘So it’s gone then?’ M
ary said irritated to think that after all this kerfuffle and drama the problem had gone. ‘Why then, are we having this conversation?’

  ‘Because,’ the SG said, hesitantly, ‘the scroll that I saw destroyed wasn’t the Rights Of Kings Charter. Gough tricked me.’ Cruickshank was near to tears. ‘I wasn’t to know. I can’t read ancient Celtic script. The document that Gough brought to my room, looked identical. It was of the same velum paper, it had the same wax seal.’

  ‘Where is he now? I want him brought to my office.’ Mary said, scowling.

  Cruickshank confessed. ‘I haven’t seen him since that day. He hasn’t been into work and I tried ringing his home number, his mobile is switched off. It seems he has gone into hiding and the scroll must still be in his possession.’

  ‘And, you think that the King, must by now know of this charter and therefore he will know of these powers? Tell me this isn’t happening.’

  Mary could see by the look of utter dismay on Cruid’s face that there was more. She groaned.

  ‘What is it Cruid? What is it you haven’t told me? What news could possibly be worse than me hearing the King has the power to overrule the Scottish Parliament? What exactly did he say on that recording?’ Mary demanded.

  Thinking that she might as well hear all the bad news Cruid said.

  ‘The King was talking about nationalising the banks, the railways, and many of our bigger corporate industries.’

  Mary threw her hands in the air. Turning on the two men she said. ‘We have to find Nathaniel Gough and hope that he still has the scroll.’

  Mary wanted them both out of her sight. She would deal with this… her way.

  Pointing her finger at the door she snapped.

  ‘Get out. Leave this to me. God you ever need to get a job done you have to do it your bloody self.’

  After her two Ministers had sloped off, Mary picked up her mobile phone and called up someone she had used before.

  Carl Watkins was ex S.A.S who earned a living as a mercenary and an occasional extortionist. He picked up after two rings. He knew it was Dewar because he kept her name in his contacts list and his caller I.D flagged her up.

  ‘Mary, what can I do for you?’

  An hour later Mary Dewar had agreed terms with Watkins who was to find Nathaniel Gough and then use his blunt interrogation skills to find out what he’d done with the Rights of King’s scroll.

  Watkins left Dewar’s office with a photo of Gough and the names and addresses of the solicitor’s family and friends.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  After a night of strange dreams, one of which featured him as Thor, sitting on a throne atop a thundercloud sending down lightning bolts on the heads of an indefinable enemy. Six o’ clock, Gavin sat up in bed with his future laid out as clear as day.

  Waking Fiona he excitedly told her what he had in mind.

  Fiona thrilled, told him she was coming with him.

  After a breakfast of eggs and bacon, Gavin put on a suit, a shirt and a tie.

  Standing in front of her husband feeling proud of him, Fiona having put on a smart black, two-piece suit, straightened his tie.

  Holding hands, Gavin and Fiona were crossing the Palace courtyard when they were approached by a couple of Japanese tourists who politely asked if the King and Queen would pose in a photo with them. After crossing Horse Wynd, the couple entered the Parliament Building via the public entrance. Gavin acknowledged the salute from the smiling armed cop on checkpoint duty.

  With the parliamentary debates focused entirely on talk of war and retribution, Gavin noted how the public viewing area was packed.

  A security guard who recognised the King and Queen stepped smartly forwards and escorted them down the stairs where they thanked him as they sat in a couple of vacant MSP desks.

  Mary Dewar and Cruid seated at the front looked round. Mary glared at the King who gave her a smile. Mary dug Cruid in the ribs. ‘What the hell is he doing here?’

  ‘How should I know?’ Cruid said.

  Gavin gave it a few minutes before he set off down the steps to arrive at the podium upon which sat the Presiding Officer, Alastair McQueery and two his aides. They entire assembly watched the King with bated breath. McQueery got up from his seat and offered it to the King who nodded in appreciation.

  Gavin facing his audience that looked to be struck dumb raised a hand as if in salute.

  Mary leaned across and snarled in Cruid’s ear.

  ‘Did I not tell you to arrange for him to go up into the Highlands and hopefully die in a shooting accident?

  ‘He refused to go.’ Cruid lied. He hadn’t suggested it to the King.

  The quietness in the Assembly Hall felt like the muted effect you get the morning after a heavy fall of snow.

  Gavin looked up at the media gallery. The world’s press were here. His speech was sure to shock many people It would make him many friends and inevitably more than a few enemies. He took a breath. When he spoke his voice reverberated among the wood and steel roof structures.

  ‘First Minister, Cabinet Ministers, Members of the Scottish Parliament and the people of Scotland,’ Gavin intoned. ‘As your King, I can no longer stand idly by and watch the unnecessary suffering endured by my subjects. I feel your pain and your anger at the injustices being heaped upon you. I feel duty-bound to do what I can to help. Only yesterday, I learned of a charter that empowers me to intervene on your behalf. The Rights Of Kings Charter permits me to take whatever steps are necessary to protect and help the ordinary people of this great and proud nation. I say this to the enemies of Scotland. We shall not bow to the arrogant and intolerant attitude of Westminster. The people of Scotland voted to become independent and your Government made that happen. To the Tory administration in Westminster and in particular to Sir Roger Bottomley, I say beware. Should you step on the toes of this great nation, you shall reap the consequences of your folly. In recent weeks, I have watched with growing dismay the ineptitude of the present Scottish administration that I believe has failed you. Showing leadership and being prepared to take bold action your Government could have done more to help those of you who are suffering because of the sanctions and the actions of the English owned banks and the corporate giants who wish to crush the Independence you have earned. Let me say this to Scotland’s enemies. No more! Using the powers granted me in the Rights Of Kings Charter, In a few weeks I shall bring in a raft of new laws that will deal with the threat from the English armed forces and free the Scots from the tyranny of the Westminster Government. Under my Kingship, for the time being, so that we can focus on homeland issues, all further talks with the EU Commissioners regarding Scotland’s membership are to be deferred. I shall instead, invite the nations of the world to join us in partnership trading. In addition, I plan to nationalise the banks and the public transport systems and the utility companies. I will outlaw payday loans, end the practice of zero-hour contracts and I will make it illegal to clamp cars. People that mistreat children, older folk and animals will face a mandatory five-year prison sentence. I plan to treble the money spent on our hospitals and schools. I will make poverty in Scotland history. And to the older generation I say this. You who have paid into the tax coffers all your lives will have your pension doubled…’

  ‘With respect… Mister Presiding Officer,’ Mary shouted getting to her feet. ‘I insist that you make this charlatan stand down. His ideas are nonsense and he hasn’t got the right…’

  Her next words were drowned out by the shouts of derision from the people in the viewing area who were now on their feet and cheering.

  Leant over to speak into his microphone, McQueery said fiercely. ‘First Minister, you will sit back down. His Majesty has the right to speak.’

  The rebuke sat Mary back down. This brought on more cheers.

  Gavin nodded his thanks to the Presiding Officer. He continued. ‘Scotland will embark on the biggest roads, schools and hospitals building programme in its history. Scotland will rebuild its milita
ry might from the increased tariffs that I shall impose on the oil barons who for far too long have robbed Scotland of its precious oil reserves.

  Gavin paused to allow his words to sink in. Continuing he said.

  ‘To Sir Roger Bottomley and his Government, I have this to say: When you stole our weapons you thought that would leave us defenceless, but we are not weakened. I shall forthwith, begin talks with countries who would be prepared to provide us with modern weapons, surface-to-air missiles, new warships and fighter planes.’

  Gavin studied the sea of faces that had gone quiet. Had his plans to beef up Scotland’s defences scared his audience? It was as if he had started a Mexican wave that no one else joined in. It was Fiona who started the clapping. This quickly led to a ripple of applause that became a riotous standing ovation.

  Gavin smiled broadly. The only two people that remained seated and did not applaud his inaugural speech were Mary Dewar, whose eyes burned livid with hatred. Cruid looked terrified.

  With a wave, and taking hold of Fiona’s hand, Gavin, exited via a staff exit.

  Within minutes, millions of people around the world caught their first glimpse of King Robert, as he wanted to be seen.

  While the Presiding Officer was calling for order, Mary Dewar leant across and whispered in Cruid’s ear. ‘That does it. He has to go.’

  Back behind her desk and alone, Mary Dewar cursed Gough. Evidently he had somehow managed to get the scroll to the King. Having him found and tortured was now an unnecessary and futile expense. Taking out her mobile phone she hoped it wasn’t too late to cancel Carl Watkins mission. She texted: “Regarding your assignment. You are to take no further action. Get back to me ASAP to confirm that you have stood down. M.D.”

  Thirty seconds later Watkins texted back: ”Sorry. Too late. I waterboarded him. He confessed to handing the scroll over to Kelvin Boyd. See attachment. C.W.” The message ended with a smile face.

  Mary clicked on the attachment. It was a newspaper story. Beneath a photograph of Nathaniel Gough, the Glasgow Globe reported: “The body of Nathaniel Gough, a solicitor in the Solicitor General’s Office was today recovered from the river Clyde. The Police state they are treating his death as a murder enquiry.”