by John Dysart
“Fine. I’m bored. Sophie won’t be back for a while yet and I need something to do so we’ll stick to tracking Macek for the moment.”
I looked at Liam for his opinion.
“I’m not going back home for another month so if I can help in any way I’m up for it. Why not? Now that I know that Irina was forced into doing what she did I see things a bit differently. She was actually quite a nice girl and I don’t like the idea that there might be others out there like her being forced into crime by a bunch of gangsters.”
“Right,” said Mike getting up. He stood there, hitched up his trousers and put his hands on his hips, looking belligerent. “I’ll get Mac and Doug and we’ll mount the operation. Liam can help as well.”
That decided, I had something I wanted to do which needed Liam’s help. My abilities to flit around the internet were in no way up to the skills of the modern generation.
“Liam, can you go and find something on YouTube for us?”
“Sure. What are you looking for?”
“Brian told me that there are two videos of Dugain on there. I thought it might be interesting to find them and have a look. Maybe I can learn something about the man from seeing him interviewed.”
He went through to power up the computer and called us through a few minutes later.
The man was standing behind a lectern on a raised platform addressing a seated audience of around fifty people. Seated on either side were five of his executives.
As a back drop, there was a screen illustrating the company’s logo. The camera moved round and in to a closer view of the man we were interested in.
He was tall, thin and dressed in an expensive-looking suit, shirt and tie. At odds with his dress, his hair was long and wavy and he occasionally pushed it back from his forehead with a short jerky motion. Nothing too remarkable so far. His head was too small to be perched on top of such a tall frame but that wasn’t what struck me most. It was his eyes. Over small round glasses perched halfway down his nose they stared out at his audience. Grey, piercing, with an almost fanatical look.
The effect was mitigated however by a smile which accompanied his upbeat message. It was the usual stuff – investment for the future, caring for the community, satisfactory results, etc.etc.
I didn’t listen to the words. They were tailored for an audience which was only interested in hearing what it expected to hear. I was watching the man, the body language and the little gestures, trying to fit the picture in with what Brian had told me about him.
When he had finished his presentation there was no word of thanks to the audience nor the usual camaraderie amongst those on the stage as they move off. He simply left the stage giving, to me, the impression of someone who had little regard for anyone other than himself. A loner, I thought, and pretty egoistic.
The one-on-one interview was different. There he was sitting back in an armchair explaining to the interviewer how the company had made a major scientific breakthrough and would soon be able to put on the market an advanced drug for the treatment of Alzheimers which would benefit thousands of people.
He was in complete control of the discussion and only allowed the interviewer a few brief questions. He monopolised the air time. The only minor flaw I noticed in his performance was when he was asked how long it would take the company to bring the new product onto the market.
“We are hoping that we can make it available within two years.”
“But isn’t that a bit short? Don’t you need longer for clinical trials and approval by the authorities?”
He looked irritated for a second but brushed that one off.
“A lot of clinical trial work has already been done and we are confident we will get speedy approval.”
I raised my eyebrows at that and promised myself to ask Helen her opinion.
When the two clips were finished I asked the others what they thought. I was interested in their reaction because neither had had the advantage of hearing Brian’s comments on him.
Liam’s reaction was as one might have expected - quite impressed – but then he was young and hadn’t had the experience I had of meeting highly placed executives of big companies.
Mike surprised me. “That’s a business terrorist,” he grunted. “Comes over pretty smooth but these are the eyes of a fanatic.”
“I agree, but not a fanatic for a cause. Just totally fanatical about himself and nobody else. Did you notice how there was no rapport with his team? At the end he just walked off the platform.
“And I’ll tell you something else. He’s going to shortcut procedures and bring that drug out before it’s properly tested.”
Liam looked horrified.”He can’t do that, can he?”
“According to Helen it’s done all the time. They justify it by saying they want to save lives as soon as possible even if there might be unforeseen side effects. After all it is possible that side effects wouldn’t show up for ten years. Meanwhile people die. Better to take the risk. There is some validity in the argument but it should be competent authorities that take that kind of a decision based on a full disclosure of all the scientific knowledge available - not the bloody companies who have a vested interest in getting it on the market as soon as possible and starting to coin in the profits.”
We went through to the other room and planned the next day. Mike was going to get in touch with Mac and Doug and he would phone Brian to see if he could get the details of this new girl. I gave him Brian’s phone number.
I was going through to Stirling to see Helen and Liam asked if I could drop him off at Heather’s where he wanted to help her exercise the horses.
Chapter 12
Liam and I set off the next morning.
There is an old track running north from the church at Monimail. It follows the line of the hills and has been there for centuries. It was originally one of the main north-south communication links in the heart of Fife cutting through the hills towards the Tay from the central plain – the Howe. The church spire identifies its starting point and would have served as a beacon for those travelling down from the north. From there ancient travellers would simply have needed to turn east and follow the road through to St Andrews.
The modern road follows the same route but down at the bottom of the glen. It’s a five mile stretch of narrow road which twists and turns until it arrives at Lindores Loch. It then skirts the loch for about a mile to where the old track comes out, giving access to the way north. Hills on either side flow down to the dry-stane dykes that border the road.
It’s a road where you don’t drive fast. You can’t. Because of the sloping fields on either side visibility is limited to the fifty yards or so until the next bend. But it’s a short cut and I often take it when heading up north or west. It always brings back fond childhood memories of winter skating on the frozen snow covered waters of the loch. Being only a few square miles in size it would freeze more quickly than the larger volume of nearby Loch Leven.
It was only after a minute or so that I noticed the car coming up behind us, seemingly in a bit of a hurry. Too bad I thought. There’s nothing I can do. You’ll just have to be patient.
The next glance in my mirror shocked me. All the muscles in my body tightened in fear. It was as if the lights had gone out. The whole of the front bonnet of a large black BMW four wheel drive seemed to be glowering in through the rear window.
I don’t know if the BMW engineers did it intentionally but, for me, the black radiator grill of a BMW coming up from behind has a distinctly menacing look to it. When it’s glued to your tail – it must have been as close as five yards behind me – it is definitely very scary.
I immediately increased my speed a little, hoping to open up a gap. The BMW driver speeded up with me and remained stuck there. Trying to accelerate out of the bends didn’t help. He had as much power as I had.
I tried slowing down but all that achieved was an impatient horn and a flash of lights.
<
br /> I was now getting both angry and very worried. Impatient drivers were one thing but on this road it was ridiculous. I pushed my speed up to the maximum that I felt was safe in the conditions, hoping to get to a straight stretch where I could let the bastard past.
I was now driving faster than I wanted to. My tyres screeched on the corners and I had to be extremely careful that nothing was coming the other way. The road is only just wide enough for two cars.
Safely round a left-hander. Thirty yards and a less acute right hander got us a little nearer to our objective. Fortunately I knew the road reasonably well.
Liam had turned round and tried to signal to the idiot to slow down, but to no avail. He was starting to look very worried. I was starting to feel bloody scared. I knew that there was a very tight bend just before the road arrived at the side of the loch. After that we’d be OK. There was a long curve round the water’s edge of about a mile and there would be a place where I could pull in and let him past.
The grey waters of the loch were now visible. Another sixty yards or so on a slight downhill slope. A tight right hander and I would be at the side of the water where I would have a more open road. I needed to be damned careful on this bend because there was no fence, ditch or wall between the road and the water – just a few yards of grass and stones.
“Look out!” Liam yelled.
I had been concentrating on the few feet of road in front of the bonnet on the left hand side and was making sure I was as close to the edge as possible in case anything was coming the other way. When Liam yelled I looked up and saw it.
Completely straddling the road was a large tree trunk.
Instinct took over. It told me that the one thing you don’t want is a head-on collision with an immovable object. Anything’s better than that.
I swerved left and slammed on the brakes – no other option - and the car left the road at about thirty miles an hour, shot over the verge and plunged into the loch.
Fortunately I had braked hard so that we came to a juddering halt only a cars’ length into the water. And at that point the water was only about three feet deep.
We were both flung forward. My hands on the steering wheel absorbed some of the shock. Liam however had been flung sideways and cracked his head on the inside of the top of the door. He slumped forwards, blood oozing from the side of his forehead.
I forced the door open against the weight of the water and staggered out. I had to get Liam out and make sure he was OK. I managed to pull his door open and he turned his head, eyes wide open but obviously in pain.
“I’m OK,” he assured me, “but something’s happened to my leg.”
I made a first attempt to see if I could move him but he screamed in pain. I checked and assured myself that the car was solidly on the bed of the loch and wasn’t going to move again and told him to sit tight. I’d get help as soon as I could.
Worry dispelled, anger took over.
As fast as I could I got myself back up onto the road looking for the bastard who had been pushing me to drive so fast.
I looked around completely stunned. He wasn’t there. Nobody was there. Not even the bloody tree.
Standing in the middle of the road, hands on hips, I looked both ways. Nothing. All I could see were tyre marks from heavy braking just before the place where we had shot off the road. The gouges on the verge caused by my wheels were evident. The tyre marks must have belonged to the BMW. But where was it?
And where the tree had been there were just a few scattered twigs and small branches. Otherwise the road was clear.
What in the hell had happened? Then the shock set in and I started to shake. I called back to Liam to make sure he was OK and was rewarded with an “I’m fine”. Reassured, I slumped down on a tuft of grass and let the shakes take over. By dint of slow deep breathing I managed after a few minutes to control the effect of the shock. I called again. Liam was still alright so I got wearily to my feet and considered the next move.
I knew we had been very lucky but I’d also reasoned out that what had just happened had been intentional. The tree had disappeared. The scattered twigs and leaves were evidence that I hadn’t imagined it. The fresh tyre marks proved that the BMW had been there.
Someone had just tried to kill us or at least injure us and scare us badly. While I sat there I tried to recall what I’d seen. It had all happened so suddenly and I had been concentrating so hard on my driving that it wasn’t easy. I’d seen the tree. The BMW had been pressing up hard from behind. Then we’d hit the water. But there was something else. Then I remembered. I had this vague notion of having seen a van parked beyond the tree, facing the other way. I
stood up and looked again. That was when I noticed the tree lying on the verge beside the loch ten yards further on. I staggered over to have a look at it. It wasn’t an enormous tree. It hadn’t needed to be. On closer inspection I found what looked like rope marks around one of the lower branches.
I played out a possible scenario in my head:
BMW tail-gating me to force me to drive too fast and also to distract me.
Accomplice pulls tree across when they know I’m coming.
How?
Mobile phone or someone up in the field who could see the road and signal down to the van?
Didn’t matter which.
As soon as I leave the road the van pulls the tree away and both vehicles head off down the road.
Result - headline in local paper ‘Local motorist drives too fast and ends up in loch’
*
I heard the sound of an approaching car and stepped out into the road to flag it down. A fairly smartly dressed middle aged lady wound down the window. She was very concerned when I explained to her that I’d had a puncture and come off the road. She immediately got out – a model of calm efficiency.
I told her that my grandson was still in the car but he was hurt. It turned out she had some first aid training. Without any ado she hiked up her tweed skirt and waded into the cold water, to see how he was. She was back in a minute. ”I shouldn’t worry. It’s his ankle. I don’t think it’s broken but it might be. He’ll need to get to a hospital and have it X-rayed,” she reported. “I’ll call an ambulance for you.”
She disappeared into her car to phone and was soon back out again. “Shouldn’t be more than about twenty minutes. Here, have some of this. It might do you good,” and she handed me a hip flask which she had fished out of her glove compartment.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
“Always have it with me,” she said with a smile and a wink; “Never know when it might come in handy.”
The ambulance arrived within fifteen minutes and the paramedics confirmed the diagnosis. They whisked us both off to the hospital. We had to go down to Kirkcaldy because it was the nearest one that had the proper orthopedic facilities. Liam was handed over to the care of the NHS and I went out to arrange for my garage to go and recover the car. Bill, my garage man, said he would send his mechanic down to pick me up and bring me back to Cupar where he’d willingly lend me a temporary replacement.
I went back in to see how Liam was.
He had been installed in a private room and was half-sitting up in bed, a dressing on his forehead and his leg immobilized. He told me that they had X-rayed the ankle and it was going to need a pin inserted into the bone.
“The surgeon’s going to operate tomorrow and I’ll be out in a couple of days,” he said chirpily.
“You seem cheerful.”
“Well, better this than drowned in a Scottish loch. Bloody big kangaroos you’ve got in this country,” he said with a grin.
I sat down beside him and asked him what he could remember about the whole incident. He couldn’t remember much more than I could. He did confirm, however, that he had thought he’d seen a van of some sort parked behind the tree. We both agreed that my scenario seemed to be the likely one. That led us inexorably to the conclusion that someone ha
d been out to either injure or kill.
“Both of us?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, were you the target or was I the target?” he paused. “Or maybe we both were,” he added with a touch of Australian optimism. “We’ll work that one out later.” And I left him, promising to come or call the next evening after his operation.
Bill’s mechanic arrived and took me back to Cupar where I picked up my replacement wheels and drove back home very carefully.
Whether it was me, Liam or both of us, I could only think of one person who might possibly think of us as a danger. Macek seemed to me to be the only possibility. I remembered what Brian had said about him. He must have tracked me down. Maybe we weren’t being quite as smart as we thought.
*
When I got home I made three phone calls.
First I rang Helen to apologise for not having been able to get through for our meeting, blaming a car accident. We agreed that the next day would be fine.
Then I had to call Heather because she had been expecting Liam. I tried the ‘minor car accident’, but I should have guessed that she would want to know chapter and verse. I kept it simple, not mentioning what had caused it. I had to tell her more or less what had happened.
“I skidded off the road. I’m fine but Liam’s got a broken ankle. He’ll be laid up for a while I’m afraid so he won’t be able to help you with the horses.”
I was told, in no mean terms that I should be less reckless when I‘ve got my grandson as a passenger. I got the feeling that if I’d been on my own she’d have just told me that it served me right.
The third call was to Mike.
“Change of plans,” I announced and told him the whole story, suspicions included.
The only person I could think of who might want to harm either or both of us was Macek. Was it stretching the imagination that he might have something to do with Irina and drugs – or even Irina’s death? Would he know of the patent business and connected me with Liam through the common surname? Could he have traced me back to Letham? We discussed the implications and decided that a bodyguard might be an idea for the next few days and it seemed to him that it was all the more important to do the shadowing job on Macek.