Out of control

by John Dysart

  “Thank God you were here,” I told him.

  He smiled grimly. “So you think that was the guy that murdered that lass through in Stirling the other week?”

  “We’re pretty sure.”

  I made him a cup of coffee and I told him what I knew about everything.

  When he left it was around five in the morning so I thought I’d leave it for a couple of hours before calling Bob.

  Chapter 29

  Maggie and I must have arrived at the farm about the same time as Mike had arrived in Letham. I borrowed Heather’s mobile and texted messages to Ross telling him where I was and to Mike to confirm our safe arrival. Both sent back simple ‘OK’ acknowledgements.

  It had been a quiet journey down. Little was said but there was undoubtedly a strong sense of togetherness as we each thought about what had happened and what it might mean. We had both had a near death experience and that is not an easy thing to come to terms with. Better let the mind and the emotions settle before committing thoughts to words.

  Maggie had just dozed or watched the scenery, her hand resting on my knee the whole journey. I squeezed it tenderly when driving conditions permitted.

  Heather was wonderfully practical on our arrival.

  “Leave everything in the car just now. We’ll see about that later. Maggie, you’re having a quick cup of tea and then a rest upstairs but, before you do, I need you in the kitchen.”

  She had a piece of paper and a pencil ready and a short list of clothes. She was going to nip into Stirling and get Maggie kitted out with sufficient clothes for the next few days and she needed sizes. They discussed briefly sizes and preferred colours, added a few comments to the various items and then Maggie went up to rest.

  Heather insisted I accompany her on her shopping expedition. On the journey in I had to give a pretty detailed account of what had happened which wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I took the opportunity, however, of suggesting to Heather that she didn’t question Maggie about it.

  “She’s lost everything,” I said. “She’s got to come to terms with it in her own time. I think it’s important that we let her choose her moment to talk about it. It’ll probably come out in bits but, for her sake, I think she should be the one to determine the timetable. Can you try to keep away from the topic? If she brings things up, that’s OK, but don’t initiate anything.”

  I was careful how I said it because I certainly didn’t want to hurt her feelings but I knew that, if I didn’t say anything, there was always the possibility that she might just pepper her with questions and I didn’t think that was best.

  “You think I’m too nosey, don’t you?”

  “Well…no... but…” a bit embarrassed.

  “Don’t worry. I know I’ve a tendency to want to know everything but I agree with you in this case. We’ll leave her to talk about it as and when she wants.”

  Kitted out with jeans, bras, knickers, socks, trainers and tops of various colours, we arrived back at the farm two hours later. It was the first time I had been on a shopping trip with my sister and it had been an exhausting experience. The expedition had been punctuated by quite a considerable number of phrases like ‘I wonder?’, ‘Let’s try next door’, ‘Don’t like that’ and ‘What do you think, Bob?’ and, from me, ‘That’ll do fine’ or ‘Can’t you make up your bloody mind?’

  We had a quiet supper. Oliver, being a sterling host, got out a cracking good bottle of red ‘for medicinal purposes’. He and I graciously allowed the girls half a glass each and polished the rest off ourselves. We all turned in early. As I fell asleep I wondered how Mike was getting on…

  *

  There was a rude awakening at about nine o’clock. Oliver knocked gently on the door and called through that Mike was on the phone. I was up as quickly as I could without disturbing Maggie and by the time I was at the bottom of the stairs I was fully awake.”Wouldn’t say what it was about,” said Oliver, “but he insisted I wake you.”

  I grabbed the receiver and slapped it against my ear.

  “Is that my big brother?” Chirpy voice meant good news, I thought.

  “Yes,” I replied, impatiently. “What’s the news?”

  “I’m still alive,” were the words that bounced back down the line, “but that bastard Macek ain’t.”

  “Good God, what do you mean?” I slumped down on the chair beside the phone and listened.

  “I’ll keep it short. The problem is solved. Macek came last night. I had two good lads from the police with me. About two in the morning he tried to fire the place. We had surveillance cameras so we knew what was coming. Davis, however, wanted an actual crime to be committed before acting so that we could definitely hold him. He didn’t want to risk him just running off.”

  “So you let him set fire to my cottage?”

  “If you want to put it that way, yes. But don’t panic. There is only very minor damage to the front door and the hall carpet. We were ready and I put it out immediately. Your golf clubs are quite safe.”

  “Thanks,” I responded drily. “Then what?”

  “He ran off up the street but the lads went after him. This time he had a gun. They shouted to him to stop but he must have panicked. He turned and fired on them. So Davis downed him. I thought that was it but the idiot fired again and Logan, the other copper, got hit in the leg. Davis had no choice and put a bullet in Macek’s head.”

  I couldn’t think of anything to say for a minute.

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah. Just trying to take it all in. No one else hurt?”

  “No. All’s fine and tidied up. The body’s been taken away, the cops have all gone and all we need is a new hall carpet and somebody to repair the door. For the moment I’ve asked Jack from up the road to nail a chunk of plywood across the hole in the glass.”

  “What do the police think of all this?”

  “Inspector Mathieson spoke to me this morning. He’s going to phone Ross as soon as he can and tell him the whole story. He assured me that you and I have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  “Mike, just let me get my head round this for a half an hour or so and I’ll call you back. Can you stay there for the next hour or so?”

  “Sure. I’ll wait ‘til I hear from you.”

  Oliver had heard my side of the conversation. When I put the phone down he couldn’t help but wonder what it had been all about.

  “What’s Mike done now?” he asked, as if Mike was always doing something crazy from his point of view.

  I levered myself upright, tightened my dressing gown, took him by the arm and carted him through to the kitchen.

  “Put some coffee on and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  At the end of my tale his only reaction, apart from a variety of facial expressions which would have won ’Britain’s Got Talent’, was “God, I’ve married into a bunch of nutters” - as if he didn’t know that already. The phone rang again and he disappeared shaking his head in astonishment. He was back in a second.

  “Inspector Ross asking for you.”

  “Bob? Steven Ross here. Have you heard?”

  “I’ve just had Mike on the phone and he’s told me what happened.”

  “Well we’ve had an extra bit of luck. Dugain made a mistake. They all make at least one.”

  “What did he do?”

  “It’s what he didn’t do! He didn’t wipe his messages or calls from his mobile phone.”

  “So what does that give us?”

  “Proof! We’re lucky we acted so quickly. First of all, Dugain used a hired car and he still had the receipt on him. We located the car and have taken it in for examination. It hadn’t yet been cleaned for rehire. If you saw these guys taking the jerry cans away then there’ll be traces of petrol. Also it was picked up and returned to the airport and the mileage corresponds to a round trip to Lochbervie.

  “Secondly, we’ve examined his mobile phone. There’s a
text from Macek telling him that you were in the hotel at Lochbervie. It was sent the night before last. Bearing in mind that we’re talking about arson and possibly murder, not to mention the trafficking and the fact that he was trying to jump bail and get out of the country, we’ve definitely got enough to hold him and construct a solid case. Will the girl, Ana, be prepared to make a statement?”

  “I think she will.”

  “Good. I reckon we’ve got all the proof we need then to charge Dugain. I’ll leave you now. I’ve got a fair amount to do. Are you around for the next few days if I need anything?”

  “Until Friday, then I’m away for ten days – off on a cruise.”

  “Speak to you tomorrow.”

  *

  I reported the latest news to Oliver and asked if he minded if I called France.

  “No problem.”

  I got a hold of Pierre and told him all the news. He had a bit more to tell me. The police in France had managed to locate a couple of girls who, if they were certain they would be safe, were prepared to testify against the Dumitru brothers and their web of agents. I told Pierre to tell the police that they were likely to hear from Ross very shortly.

  “So are you going to celebrate?”

  “We’re sure going to try. It’ll depend on how Maggie is.”

  “Once she remembers she’s got a ten day cruise with Bob Bruce coming up she’ll be OK. If you think it’ll help, tell her I’ll buy her a new hotel nearer Letham. Somewhere on the coast near Anstruther or Crail.”

  “Why don’t you come over and join us?”

  “I’ve just been booking my flight while I’ve been talking to you. See you this evening. I’ll hire a car and drive over. I presume you’re at Heather’s?”

  *

  So it was all the family round the kitchen table; Mike as boisterous as ever, with Sophie keeping him in check, Heather and Oliver, the perfect hosts, Pierre smiling, smooth and entertaining. And the kids didn’t seem too overawed by the older generation’s conversation.

  They chipped in occasionally, encouraged by Sophie and Mike.

  Maggie and I were quieter than usual but we made a valiant effort to keep up. The excellent Nuits St Georges that Pierre had brought helped.

  Halfway through the meal I proposed a toast to Ana and her bravery. “Without you we’d not have been able to do what we did,” I told her. She blushed. She was sitting between Liam and Sophie totally at ease and I had seen that she had been chattering away to both of them as if she’d known them all her life.

  “I guess you won’t need a new identity now but I suppose you’ll need a new job. Has Sophie managed to fix you up with one? When are you going back to France?”

  “I’m not going back to France,” she said, glancing at Sophie and Liam.

  “Oh! Where are you going then?”

  I suddenly got the impression that I had asked a stupid question, judging by the grins round the table.

  “Can’t you guess, Bob?” said Mike with a broad smile on his face.

  I turned, puzzled, to Maggie but there was no help there. She was just smiling at me like all the others.

  “I haven’t a clue.”

  Mike again. “Blind as a bloody bat.”

  I let them all have their laugh for a minute or so and then courageously picked on the youngest one.

  “Liam, why are you laughing at your grandfather?”

  “Sorry. It’s just that we thought you knew or would have guessed.”

  “I don’t guess. It’s a bad habit. I either know or it doesn’t interest me,” I said sternly, but with a smile - if that’s possible!

  “Ana‘s coming back to Australia with me.”

  And Maggie leant over and whispered in my ear, “… and we’re off to Norway in a couple of days.”