attached to the investigation up to now, we didn't look at the possibility
that it might have come from other than a hospital pharmacy.
'I was thinking about asking other forces for assistance, asking
them to check pharmacies in their areas, until we came up with this
link between Weston's daughter and Murray's niece. Then Brian
Mackie called me this afternoon to say that the boy Raymond's been
selling pills up in Furryboots city. That's made me wonder: is there
another way that the diamorphine could have been obtained?
'Would you like to think about that while I'm out tonight, and see
if you can come up with any theories?'
'Sure,' she said, bending to sweep Jazz up from the floor. 'I've been
pondering on that for a while, as a matter of fact. I can give you a
workable theory right now. Take someone with a steady hand who's
good with a hypo; then give that person access to phials of diamorphine.
If you use the finest needle you could puncture the rubber top
of the bottle and draw the heroin into a syringe; it's a clear liquid, so
you could leave the needle in place, attach another syringe and simply
replace it with water.
'That done, you return the phial to the drugs trolley. No one's
going to notice the microdot, for that's all that would show, on the
rubber seal. The only person who'll be any the wiser will be the poor
patient who's injected with water.'
Bob frowned, as he stroked his son's head gently with his big hand.
'How many phials would it take to kill?'
'Haifa dozen and you'd go out like a light.'
'Yet there was only one puncture mark on Gaynor Weston's thigh,
wasn't there?'
'So what?' Jazz was dropping off to sleep, so Sarah's voice was a
whisper. 'If you were a doctor, or a nurse, you'd just put a line in and
administer them through that, one after another.'
'What about Murray?' he asked her. 'You said you couldn't pin
down the drug that was used on him.'
'I couldn't for the purposes of evidence. The lab report showed a
whole cocktail of substances in his bloodstream; there were steroids,
morphine, ibuferon, and two sedatives, lorazepam and temazepam.
All of those could have been administered orally, and would have
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been normally prescribed to someone in Mr Murray's condition.'
'Was the morphine the same as the other stuff?'
'No. This was oramorph; it comes in ampoules usually. You break
off the top and the patient swallows it.'
'Could you extract that from the container without anyone
knowing?'
'No way. Anyhow, you'd need too much of it. I'll tell you what I did
find unusual though; the use of two different sedatives from the same
family. One or the other, but not both.'
'Does that tell you anything specific?'
'No, but I'll take a guess. I would say that whoever did this took a
look at Mr Murray, made a judgement on his condition, then took
some morphine tablets and temazepam, ground them down with a
mortar, formed a solution with boiling water, then later on, injected it.
You would do that for speed of absorption, rather than feed them it in
solid form.
'The shot didn't kill him, but it rendered him unconscious and
allowed him to asphyxiate without distress.' She shrugged one
shoulder, since Jazz was weighing down the other.
'Those are my theories, for what they're worth. They're all you're
getting out of me tonight; professionally at least. Now, if you've got
some time to spare before you go to kick the crap out of your pals, go
and check Mark's homework, while I put this one to bed.'
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72
'Alex, Mitch Laidlaw gave you a raise last week, you had confirmation
this afternoon that you've bought a flat, you're getting plenty of
jollies from your toyboy - even if he is a bit of a dweeb - and we're off
on holiday the day after tomorrow: so why the hell is your face
tripping you?'
'He is not a dweeb,' she shot back at her friend and temporary
landlady. 'He has the body of a young Greek god, I'll have you know.'
'Well he'll have to give it back sooner or later. He's my cousin, I
can say what I like about him. Anyway, he's a minor issue. Think of
all the fun you're going to have in Marbella, now that you're free and
more or less single. Lighten up, girl. Brighten up.'
She glowered at Gina. 'I don't feel very bright, okay. I'm still
pissed off at Andy, okay. He sat there on that bloody bar stool the
other night and came right out with it. "I can't share you, Alex. Even
with you," she mimicked. He hasn't been listening to a bloody word
I've said.'
'Sure he's been listening,' Gina countered. 'He's just having a hard
time understanding it, that's all. So would I in his shoes. One minute
you and he are a perfect menage a deux, the next you're kicking over
the traces and asserting your right to fuck anything in long trousers if
you so choose.'
'I didn't assert any such thing.'A brief smile flickered across Alex's
face. 'Well, maybe I did. That wasn't in my mind when I moved out,
but when your cocky - and I use the word advisedly - young cousin
came on to me, a whole lot of things fell into place. I felt like
someone again.
'I thought that I was succeeding in improving my relationship with
Andy. After a difficult beginning, he seemed to be accepting my
independence, but then on Tuesday, he started behaving like a
possessive old fart all over again.'
'Then switch on the Xpelair, my dear,' said Gina, 'and blow him
away; break off your engagement.'
'But I don't want to do that. He's my old fart . .. don't grin like
that, you know what I mean .. . it's the possessive bit that gets to me.
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I want to marry him, but in my own good time.'
'Then give him back his ring and tell him to offer it to you again in
five years or so.'
'I can't do that. If I break it off it'll be the end of it; I have to stay
engaged to him.'
'If you do, are you going to tell him about'
Alex's look cut her off short. It would have done her father proud.
'Are you kidding?'
'But don't you think you owe it to him?'
'No, I do not. It's my body, Gina. He has no ownership rights, none
at all. Now let's drop the subject. I'm sorry; I'll cheer up I promise.'
She grinned. 'As of now, in fact. Come on, we've got no gentlemen
callers tonight, either of us. Let's us girlies go an have a bevvy.'
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73
Brian Mackie was in his office, in the early'afternoon, dictating a
sanitised note for the record of his interview with Beano Litster in
Aberdeen, when the phone rang. He picked it up and heard, to his
private delight, Maggie Rose's voice at the other end. He had just
been thinking of how much he missed his deputy.
'Good afternoon, Brian,' she said. 'This is a left-handed phone call
just to keep you in touch with my trawl through the suicide files. God, if I'd known that I was taking on--'
'I can imagine. Depressing is it?'
> 'You don't imagine; that's the trick. You switch your imagination
off for the duration. Poor old Mario, he's come home to serious grief
every night since I started doing this job. Did you know that there
were over a hundred suicides in our force area last year alone? And
I've got three years' worth to go through.'
'Do I get the impression that you're not calling to tell me that
you've made a big breakthrough?'
Maggie laughed, shortly. 'You do indeed, superintendent. I'm just
calling to let you know that I am now one third of the way through,
without finding the slightest hint of anything that reminds me of the
Weston or Murray deaths. I am also calling simply to blow off steam.
After all, why should my innocent husband catch all the flak?'
'Why indeed?' Mackie answered. 'How's the arm, by the way?'
'Itching like what I'm too much of a lady to say. I've got a light
cast on it at the moment, to immobilise it. That comes off on Monday;
then the rehab work should start.'
'That's good. You'll be glad to hear that the maggot who did it has
been charged with murder in Birmingham, remanded in custody, and
sent back up here. There's a pleading diet at the Sheriff Court on
Tuesday, at which, I am reliably informed, he will admit to serious
assault and be sent to the High Court for sentence.'
'He's pleading, is he? I'm surprised at that; I didn't think he was
the type.'
Mackie grunted. 'David Pettigrew gave him a straight choice; plead
to the assault or be tried for attempt to murder. He thinks he's got a
222
deal, but Big Bob told me that he's had a word with the Lord Advocate.
When the case comes up for sentence the Crown will lay it on thick,
say that this was a hair's breadth away from murder and ask for fifteen
years. They doubt if he'll get that, but they reckon that the judge,
whoever he is, will be scared to give him less than twelve, in case the
Crown appeals against it. The Bench doesn't like being accused of
leniency; especially in cases like this.'
'He'll do his stretch down south though, won't he?' asked Rose.
'It'll take at least a year to bring him to trial for the other offence
. .. if they ever do, because one of the key witnesses is dead, they've
discovered. Whatever happens he's got at least one winter in Peterhead
to look forward to.'
'You've made my day,' said the Chief Inspector. 'I'm glad I phoned.
I feel better now.'
'That's good,' laughed Mackie. 'See you soon.'
The phone was hardly back in its cradle before it rang again. 'Yes?'
the superintendent said curtly.
'Hello sir,' said a voice at the other end. 'It's Craig Garland, here,
from Aberdeen. I'm just phoning to let you know that Raymond Weston
just left the city, heading south. I've been following him ever since, at a
discreet distance. He's just stopped and gone into a pub in Stonehaven.'
'Let's hope he doesn't get nicked for drunk driving.'
'Do you want me to follow him all the way, sir? My boss has given
me clearance to do so.'
'No, sergeant, you don't need to leave your patch. What's he
driving?'
'A red Polo: registration mark F213 TJL.'
'That's fine. I'll make arrangements at this end; we know where
he's going. I'll drop a formal note to your boss, but meantime, thanks
Craig, for all your help.' Mackie hung up, then dialled Superintendent
Pringle's direct number on his hands-free. 'Clan,' he announced, as
soon as the call was answered, 'Brian here. The boy Raymond's coming
home for the weekend.'
'Right,' Pringle grunted. 'He needs taste be met, then. What do you
think?'
'As I see it, we just keep Weston's house and the girlfriend's flat
under observation. Do we know where she lives?'
'Aye, Stevie sweet-talked her address out of the hospital personnel
department.'
'Let's just watch them both until he shows. We don't need CID for
that job, just a couple of uniforms in unmarked cars, with their collars
turned up and their hats off. Wherever and whenever he shows up,
they can call us then.'
223
'Fair enough. I think we should wait till they get together before we
lift them. And wherever they are we should have a legal excuse to
search.'
'That's no problem,' said Mackie, at once. 'I have information from
Aberdeen that Ray Weston's been using and supplying prohibited and
controlled drugs. I'll go and see the Sheriff this afternoon and get a
warrant to search the girl's flat and Professor Weston's place, both of
them if necessary.'
'Ah don't think the Prof'11 like that.'
'Then it'll be tough on him, won't it, mate. This is a double murder
investigation. Mind you,' he added, after a moment's thought, 'I think
I'll run it past the DCC, just to cover our tails.'
'Aye,' Pringle agreed, 'just as well if you do. Mine's getting too
near retiring age for it to be left exposed.'
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74
'Hi Dennis,' Karen called out as she stepped into the apartment. As
her relationship with Wayne had developed, so the hemiplegic had
become more friendly towards her.
'Evenin', Missy,' he greeted her, in broad Aussie tones. As always,
when his attendant was going out for the latter part of the evening, he
was in pyjamas and dressing gown.
'How's your research work going?' she asked him.
'It's everything I hoped it would be. I will leave Scotland a wiser
man, and I'll bet you not too many people can make that claim.'
'Don't you be so cheeky,' she chided him. 'We've been exporting
knowledge for a long time now. Come to think of it, that's all we've
got left to export.'
'Hi.' Wayne's voice came from the bathroom door, at the far corner
of the living area. She looked at him, with his newly trimmed beard
and his bright shining eyes, and felt her stomach roll over with
anticipation. As he walked towards her she noticed that his limp was
almost gone.
'Ready for the off?' he asked.
She nodded. 'I've booked two seats for the ten o'clock screening
out at the UCI. You quite sure you want to see Saving Private Ryani
I've heard that the opening is one of the bloodiest things ever filmed.'
'We can close our eyes at the bad bits,' he suggested. 'Remember
in Jaws, when they're looking over this wrecked boat and a head
comes rolling out? God, I almost wet myself when I saw that; nothing
can be any worse.'
'How are we going to know which are the bad bits until we've seen
them?' Karen asked.
'Roll me through next door, mate,' said Dennis Crombie from his
wheelchair, 'then you can go and find out.'
The cinema complex was thronged, as it was every Friday evening,
making Karen pleased that she had booked the seats. And the
beginning of the film was as realistic as every critic had described it:
for the first twenty minutes and more, she felt as if she was half a
century back in time, and on those Normandy beaches. In fact, neither
225
closed their e
yes, but watched fascinated, hand squeezing hand
involuntarily with each explosion, each awful on-screen death.
Eventually, Private Ryan saved, they emerged from the UCI
complex impressed and emotionally sodden. 'It makes you feel lucky
you didn't live in those times, doesn't it?' said Karen.
'Yeah,' the Australian replied, then smiled. 'Your place or yours?'
An hour later, they lay in the dark listening to the rain assaulting
the bedroom window. 'Nice night, huh?' he whispered.
'In here, it is.' She slid even closer to him, drawing on his heat.
'Wayne,' she asked suddenly, 'where are we going with this thing?'
'Where would you like to go with it?'
'That's just it. I'm not exactly sure; I've never been in a relationship
when I've thought further ahead than what I was going to give him for
Christmas. Hell, I don't even know whether you'll be here for
Christmas, but I find that I want you to be. On top of that I sort of
think that I want you to be here next summer too. How long are you
staying? When does Dennis's research end, and when do you have to
take him back to Australia?'
She looked up, and saw him smile. 'It's just about over,' he said.
'But that doesn't mean we're going home yet. You've read about the
world economic summit?'
'Read about it? I spend every day planning for it, vetting joumos
and the like.'
'All's smooth I trust?'
'Yes. There will be so many security guys in that hall - all of them
vetted, carrying guns and wearing their wee eagle badges - it should
be the world's safest place for the duration.'
'Well I'm pleased to hear that,' he said, emphatically. 'The reason
being that Dennis has been asked to join the Iranian delegation to the
summit, as an adviser. As usual, I'll be rolling him in there.'
'That's quite an honour for him.'
'Too damn right. It also means that the Iranians are paying our
expenses from now to the end of the conference, not to mention a fat
fee.'
'That's great. .. but once it's over?'
He settled down into the bed. 'Afterwards? Well, neither of us have
any close ties back in Oz, so ... hell, it would be a shame to pass up
a chance to live through a Scottish Hogmanay.'
She hugged him, tight. 'After that, mind,' he added, holding her off
for a moment, 'I have to go back to the rig. But since all my work is
offshore, I have decent leave intervals, fares paid to wherever I want
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