She took me by the elbow, as she used to when we were kids, and led me into the corridor, then looked me in the eye and said, ‘Right, spill.’
It took me a while, but I told her everything, including the bits I’d left out to spare Harvey’s feelings. No, not everything: I didn’t tell her about Mike Dylan. To my relief, she didn’t rant, and she didn’t rave. She waited until I was finished, and then she shook her head.
‘You two,’ she sighed, ‘you’re just a pair of stupid boys. Okay, so a sleazy tabloid publishes an ancient photo of the new Lord January in his dad’s old robes with his cock hanging out. So what? He’s not a faggot Aussie actor playing a stud in a TV show, plus, the Supreme Court only acknowledges the existence of the tabloids when they’ve got one of their editors up before them for contempt, so how can it really harm him? He’ll be the laugh of the New Club for a week, and that’ll be the end of it. But, no, you and he had to take the whole thing seriously, and you wind up flying half-way round the world to buy the silly bitch off. Have you still got the fifty thousand?’
As a matter of fact I had: it was in the knapsack, over my shoulder, although I wasn’t quite sure why.
I decided it was time to mount a counter-offensive, to appeal to her soft side, wherever that might have been hiding. ‘We did it for you, you ungrateful hussy. Harvey wanted to spare you the embarrassment.’
It didn’t work. ‘Why should I be embarrassed?’ She snorted. ‘Between you and me and anyone else who asks, I’m very proud of my husband’s chopper. Big improvement on the last one, I’ll tell you. You’re lovely lads, but you’re silly; I wouldn’t have minded that much.’
‘Whatever, it’s gone way beyond that now, though, Ellie,’ I pointed out. ‘Even if I hadn’t gone out there, she’d still be in deep trouble, and maybe dead by now.’
‘Agreed, so why’s her brother gone off the deep end at Harvey?’
‘I’m going to find that out when I trace the bloody woman.’
‘You might have a job doing that. She’s taken a scunner to you it seems.’
‘I’ll find her, sis. I’m going to save her bloody life in spite of herself.’
‘Well, when you do, tell her to come and see me. Mind you, she might prefer those Triangles to that!’
As she spoke I was looking over her shoulder, at Ollie Coffey who had just turned the corner and was coming towards me. I introduced him to Ellie. ‘Have you got this thug well locked up?’ she demanded.
‘Yes, Mrs January, he’s for the court in the morning. I’ve been checking up on him too. Your husband was right, he was in the army for a while, second lieutenant in the Green Jackets, but he resigned his commission after a few years because he felt he wasn’t seeing enough action. Then, believe it or not, he joined the French Foreign Legion, and served there for eight years. Since then he’s been a freelance journalist, specialising in military matters. He’s popped up once or twice on television and radio news programmes as a quote, defence expert, unquote.’
‘Sounds like a fantasist,’ I said. ‘His old man was an adventurer and died on the job. Like father like son.’
‘What’s he being charged with?’ Ellie asked. ‘Attempted murder, I hope.’
‘With no weapon used we’d never make that stick. It can only be serious assault for now, but the Lord Advocate’s told the Crown Office to take a longer look. Legally speaking the attack happened within the confines of the court.’
‘What difference does that make?’
‘About five years, depending on the judge.’
‘That’ll do for starters.’ She left us and went back into Harvey’s room to send out Ricky Ross.
‘I’ve got something,’ said Coffey, when he arrived. ‘Raymond’s only had one call on his mobile in the last couple of days, yesterday morning as you thought, Oz. It was made from a callbox at the airport in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.’
‘She made it out of Malaysia, then, thank Christ. Can we find out where she’s going from there?’
‘Ouch!’ said Coffey. ‘That’s going to be a bit more difficult. It’s going to involve other agencies; I don’t know if I can do that.’
‘Come on, Ollie,’ Ricky cajoled him, ‘you’re Special Branch, you’ve got access. The woman’s brother’s just attacked a judge, and you’ve got evidence from Oz here that she’s been involved with organised crime in the Far East. You’ve got every reason to try and trace her.’
‘He’s not a judge.’
‘He will be inside a fortnight,’ I volunteered.
‘In that case, I suppose I can,’ he conceded. ‘Leave it with me.’
We left it, and Ricky left me, promising to give me any feedback he got from Ollie. I found a pay-phone and called Susie, to reassure her that Harvey was going to be all right, and then I went back to Ellie. We stayed in the tiny ward for half an hour or so, until the consultant came back and told us that we might as well go since the patient would be dozing for the rest of the night. All being well, he promised (meaning if his brain didn’t implode during the night), he’d be able to go home some time the following day.
I could have stayed in the Caley, but I’d seen enough of it. Instead I went to Fife with Ellie, to look in on Dad and Mary and give them the positive tidings (I didn’t give them any details about the attack: I said it was a random nutcase and that was all), and then to spend the night at her place in St Andrews.
Every time I see my nephews, these days, I see a change in them. Jonny’s sixteen, and starting to fill out; he’s a big, good-looking boy, with a quiet self-confidence that never threatens to spill over into arrogance. Ellie says he’s like me at that age, so I’m glad he’s got Harvey around now to steer him along a conventional and responsible path. He seems to be serious about the law as a career; I’d rather see him being a pro golfer, but I hadn’t been bold enough to tell his parents that. Colin, the incorrigible imp of mischief that he’s been since he was born, has edged into his teens and, without anyone really noticing it, he’s quietened down. Of the two, it’s Jonny who’s the more outgoing now, and Colin who spends much of his time indoors, hunched over a computer. My fear is that he’s starting to turn into his father, the boring Alan Sinclair.
Cooking wasn’t an option: I told Ellie we were all going out to eat. St Andrews was gearing up for the ritual of the Open Championship the following week, and already the place was full of golfers, journalists and fans. Somehow, though, I used connections to find us a table at the Seafood Restaurant, a relative newcomer to the old grey town, as Alex Hay loved to call it when he was in the BBC commentary box. Ellie was grudgingly impressed, but not half as much as later on, when Seve Ballesteros came across to our table and asked for my autograph. We swapped, and he signed the three other menus as well, plus a fourth for my dad. He still says that Arnold Palmer is the most exciting golfer he’s ever seen, but Seve gets my vote every time. Tiger? He’s on another planet; at his best he’s chilling. It’s like watching a trained assassin at work, killing golf courses.
When we got home, the lads turned in. Colin was on the team that would man the main scoreboard at the Open, and Jonny had a caddying job next day, for a young American qualifier who’d come over early to get acclimatised. If they got on, there was the possibility he’d be hired for the championship. Bearing in mind that the previous two Opens had been won by inexperienced American qualifiers, I wished him luck.
Ellie and I sat in the back garden when they were gone, just as we used to in our younger days, each of us clutching a bottle of beer. It was a warm, balmy night by St Andrews standards, and pleasantly cool by mine.
‘He’s going to be all right, Oz, isn’t he?’
‘Harvey? Of course he is: advocates are notorious for the thickness of their skulls, and QCs even more so. When they’re ready to go to the Bench it would take a road drill to get through one.’
She laughed quietly. When she tones down the volume my sister has a beautiful laugh, just like our mother. ‘I’ll tell him that. Actually, I
meant Jonny.’
‘Jonny? Why do you ask that?’
‘Ach, he’s torn, Oz. He wants to be like Harvey, and to impress him, but he wants to impress you even more. He wants to be like you too.’
‘Then send him to drama school, not law school. But better still, get him working on the golf so that in a couple of years he’ll be a candidate for a scholarship at an American university. He can study law there, then see what direction he wants to take.’
‘Golf?’
‘What are you going to do, Ellie? Tell the man what he’s going to do with his life? He won’t take that, and if you push it, you’ll wind up hurting you both.’
‘He’s a boy still, Oz,’ she protested weakly, with the voice of someone who had strained it shouting at the rising tide, ordering it not to come in any further.
I took a sip of my Rolling Rock and looked at her over the neck of the bottle. ‘You’re talking like a mother, Ellie. He’s a man. Legally he can walk out the door tomorrow, get his own place, start a career, start a family. Sure, he’s still got some growing up left, but those are his rights now, at his age. You want to help him, then advise him: set out all the options for him, even fucking dentistry, whatever Dad says, and let him make his own choice. Once he’s done that, respect it, but while he’s making his mind up, impress on him that his final choice shouldn’t be what he thinks Harvey or I might like him to do, but what he wants, in his heart.’
‘Jesus,’ she whispered. ‘Where did you acquire wisdom?’
‘Through long nights spent talking to Jan’s ghost.’
She stared at me. ‘Funny, that. Me too.’ Of course, Jan was her sister as well; I wished I could tell her, but I know I never can.
‘Will you be all right, Oz?’ she asked suddenly.
It was my turn to stare. ‘Hey, that sounds like what the bell-boy’s supposed to have said to George Best when he brought him and the latest Miss World room service. “Where did it all go wrong, Georgie?” I thought I was doing all right, thank you very much.’
‘Aye, you are, and you wear it well, too; you’re gracious. But there’s something eating at you.’
‘No,’ I protested ‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re fine and yet you’re not. Are you and Susie okay?’
‘Susie and I are perfect. I just. . I wish I could spend all my time with her and the kids, but the life I’m in doesn’t allow for that. I wish I could be there now, but Fate says, “No way.” I’ve spent the last couple of weeks on a familiarisation course of Edinburgh’s two hospitals, and chasing around Singapore and Malaysia after an ungrateful fucking cow. I’m not blaming Harvey for that, by the way. If I was in trouble he’d be the first guy I’d go to for help, and I’d get it. But when I’m away I feel unsettled, I feel vulnerable, I feel. . I can’t explain.’
‘Try.’
‘Okay, in Singapore I met this girl, Marie. She’s an actress and she helped me out with something. I liked her, we had a drink, and we had lunch together on Tuesday.’
‘And you. .’
‘No.’
‘Let me finish. You wanted to but you didn’t.’
‘Ellie, I can’t even admit to myself that I wanted to.’
‘But you did, you were attracted to the woman sexually, and maybe it was there for you. You’re a man, for God’s sake, and your profession exposes you to some of the most beautiful women in the world, and occasionally exposes them to you, from what I’ve seen of your movies. You shouldn’t be ashamed that you wanted to have her. You should be proud that you didn’t.’
She got up from her garden recliner, went into the kitchen, and came back with two more Rolling Rocks. ‘Go home, Oz. Let the police find the first Mrs January.’
‘The police? I was a policeman and I couldn’t find my arse with both hands. Mike Dylan was a policeman, and he got shot. Ricky Ross was a policeman and he got slung out for screwing the wife of a murder victim, a prime suspect in a case he was investigating. Maddy January’s in trouble because her talent for candid camera photography led her to take a picture of the top man in organised crime in South East Asia. He’s been there for years, and their police are so good that they don’t know his name or what he looks like. Ellie, if I had your confidence I’d do what you say, but I don’t. I’m the best chance this woman’s got of staying alive, even if she doesn’t know it. If I give up on her and she dies, as she will, Susie will never forgive me, Harvey will never forgive me, and I’ll never forgive myself. But you know what frightens me the most?’
‘What?’
‘Jan will never forgive me.’
‘Oz,’ our Ellen whispered, ‘Jan’s gone.’
I found that I was crying softly. ‘You may choose to believe that,’ I told her, ‘but I never will.’
37
I didn’t sleep that night: I knew that if I dropped off I’d dream of Jan, and that if I did, waking up would hurt, maybe more than I could handle at that time.
So instead I read a book, Lethal Intent, the latest Skinner novel, which Ellie had left for me in the guest room. Eventually the pages swam before my eyes, so I laid it down to be resumed later (I’d buy my own copy next chance I had: as an actor I have this secret belief that sharing books and DVDs is morally wrong) and picked up a notepad and pen from the bedside table.
I began to make notes, and to look for unanswered questions flowing from what had happened in Singapore. When I thought about it, there were only two. Had Sammy Goss’s meeting with us in the Crazy Elephant been sheer, blind coincidence? Since I only believe in coincidence when it doesn’t matter a damn, that led on to the second question. How the hell had he known that we’d be there?
I thought about that for a while, but I got nowhere near an answer.
After that I just thought, ready to make random notes about oddities as they occurred, but none did. . until around four thirty in the morning. I found myself looking at a mind picture, looking for something, and being unable to find it. I switched on my mobile, found the entry for Benny Luker, and hit the call key.
‘Yes,’ he shouted in my ear, over background music that sounded as if it was live.
‘It’s me,’ I said. ‘Where the hell are you?’
‘The Iridium Jazz Club, on Broadway; Mose Allison’s on. The set’s just winding up. Hold on and I’ll find somewhere quieter if that’s possible in here.’
I waited until the music stopped and the background buzz was cut off.
‘Okay, I’m in the gents’. What’s up? Has she been found?’
‘No, but she was in Vietnam on Tuesday. She called her brother from there, and she’s seriously pissed off at me, for some reason. He’s caused some local difficulty, but that’s been dealt with and he’ll be going away for a spell.’
‘Do you know where she headed from there?’
‘No, but Ricky and I have someone working on it, Ollie Coffey, Special Branch.’
‘I remember him.’
‘Yes, well, try and remember this. When we were in Tony Lee’s flat, in his office, we saw a docking station for a palmtop computer, a PDA.’
‘Yes, Hewlett Packard manufacture.’
‘Did you see the unit itself anywhere?’
As he thought about it, or as I thought he thought about it, I heard a toilet flush. ‘Sorry. I took a piss while I’m here. The answer is no, I definitely did not.’
‘No, me neither. So, possibilities: maybe Tony had it and Sammy took it after he’d killed him.’
‘Maybe, or maybe it was in his car, or in his office.’
‘Or maybe Madeleine took it with her. They had a scanner, okay, mostly she used film for photography, but there was an empty folder called “Maddy’s pics” on the computer. What can you store on a PDA?’
‘Quite a lot: they take standard SD cards. I see where you’re going. You think she might have taken some bargaining power along with her.’
‘My, my, we do work well as a team. I’ll keep you informed if Coffey comes up with anything.’
‘Coffey might get his arse kicked, getting involved with this.’
‘Knowingly or not, Maddy incited an attack on Scotland’s newest judge. He can dress that up as possible terrorism.’
‘She’s really in bother now, isn’t she?’
‘Indeed. Go on, get back to old man Mose. Are you on your own, or are you trying to gain ground with your lovely editor?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Just a friend. Hey, what time is it with you?’
‘Going on five.’
I heard his sigh, all the way from the crapper in the Iridium Jazz Club. ‘Pal, when this is over, you really must get yourself a life.’
And then he was gone, and I was left to wonder.
38
I went back to Edinburgh with Ellie next morning, but not before I’d gone down to the Old Course with Jonny, to meet his employer for the day, and to walk the first few holes with them. He was a nice lad, and he welcomed the attention; he even welcomed the early-duty photographers who spotted me and focused on us. I apologised, but he told me not to be worried. ‘My sponsors will love it,’ he said.
Being a youngster, playing with two other young Americans, he had an early time, but that suited me, since I’d been up with the lark; in fact, slightly before the chirpy wee bastard.
I hadn’t been alone. ‘Who were you calling in the middle of the night?’ Jonny asked me, as we strode down the first, after the boss’s opening six-iron. He’d asked my nephew what he should hit; like an old pro caddy, the lad just took the club from the bag and handed it to him. ‘Leave yourself a full wedge,’ he’d said.
‘America,’ I told him. ‘Business.’
‘At five in the morning? I’ll need to talk to Aunt Susie about you. She needs to get you under control.’
He was dead right. I left them on the fifth tee, at which point Jonny’s boss was two under par, and headed back for breakfast.
When we reached the Western General two and a half hours later, Harvey was sitting up in bed. His eyes were blackening up nicely and his cracked ribs meant that he couldn’t get comfortable, whatever way he tried, but otherwise he was fine, back to his normal self.
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