by Ian Todd
“It’s jist too obvious fur oor Paul boy,” The Stalker murmured tae himsel.
He wid’ve known full well that as soon as the lassie went missing, the word wid’ve gone oot and the wires wid’ve lit up. He turned his attention tae the West Highland map. He traced his finger west. The first real place he came tae wis Ullapool. Efter Ullapool, the main road heided doon tae Dingwall, so back in their general direction and likely intae the erms ae the local bizzies. He scratched his heid. He looked at the roads north. There wis naff aw places tae go heiding that way, apart fae ending up in John O’Groats. Naw, the lassie wanted tae go south. It wis the only way tae go. Cotter, the inspector fae Inverness, reckoned that if she’d come through Inverness, she wid’ve been clocked. As well as the trains and buses, he’d hid men sitting in cars oan the Aberdeen and Perth roads. He stood back and looked at the two maps. He went back tae the West Highland wan again. He traced his finger fae Ullapool and stoapped. There wis a turn-aff no far fae Ullapool. He traced his finger alang it.
“Aultbea, Poolewe, Gairloch, Kyle of Lochalsh, Invergarry, Fort William,” he read.
He went across tae the Scotland map and found Fort William and began tae trace his finger south again.
“Fort William, Crianlarach, Glencoe tae…naw!”
The Stalker felt the excitement rise up fae the pit ae his stomach and continued tae trace his finger fae Fort William tae Crianlarach, then doon Glencoe straight tae Dumbarton and then finally…his finger hovered fur a split second before landing bang oan Glesga.
“Ye’re a dirty fly wee basturt, so ye ur, Paul. Noo, whit the fuck is yer game, eh?” The Stalker wondered oot loud, turned, walked across tae the bed and lay doon oan his back.
He rested his hauns behind his neck and studied the maps fae the other side ae the room while he waited fur McTavish tae reappear. He knew he’d come up wae some ae the answers. He knew he hid tae be patient. Why go tae aw this trouble, Paul? It wisnae jist tae help oot a wee naïve upper crust bit ae crumpet, that wis fur sure. There wis mair tae this than that, he thought tae himsel, as his heavy-lidded eyes goat the better ae him and he fell asleep.
Chapter Forty Six
The Stalker looked at his wan bob bit sitting oan tap ae the coin box. He’d awready put in two bob and noo there wis only the wan left.
“Look, Billy, tell Daddy Ah’ll try and phone back later oan when Ah’m further doon the road. Whit’s that? Naw, Ah’ve goat this McTavish wan wae me. He’s gonnae dae the driving. Fine, Ah’ll speak tae ye later,” he shouted doon the phone tae Billy Liar, putting the phone back oan the hook.
“Everything okay, Sarge?” McTavish asked him, when The Stalker slid intae the passenger seat ae the polis Landy that wis sitting parked beside the phone box ootside The Lady Ross Hotel in Ardgay.
“Aye, fine. Noo, let’s go. If we’re lucky, we might jist intercept them,” he replied, as McTavish pulled oot ae the car park and heided in the direction ae Tain.
“Whit is it wae the phone lines up here? That wis three times the phone line went deid when Ah wis up at the castle.”
“They’ve still to update the exchange, although I think it’s more to do with Mrs McTavish, my wife, than the equipment she’s using. In all the years she’s been connecting people through the exchange, the engineers still haven’t found a fault with it. It drives The Duke barmy. He thinks she’s doing it deliberately, just to get her own back for the crofters having been cleared off their land in the last century.”
The Stalker sat back in his seat. The Duke and the Duchess hid at first looked dismayed at his appearance bit hid seemed pleased enough by the time he’d taken his leave ae them. They’d seemed impressed when he informed them ae his plans and telt them that he hid to get gaun as time wis ae the essence. Within two and a hauf hours ae his arrival, he wis heiding south again. When he’d informed McTavish that he wis gonnae be taking a wee journey and McTavish wis his nominated driver, it hidnae gone doon too well wae him.
“I don’t want to seem uninterested in what you’re doing, Sarge, because whenever myself and Mrs McTavish have our occasional falling out, it does cross my mind about how interesting it must be to work as a policeman in somewhere like Glesgie or Edinburgh. When I heard that you were on your way up here from the big city, I was…well…just so excited that, at last, I would be able to observe a real professional at work, but if I don’t get home tonight to take Mrs McTavish…Molly…up to her mother’s house in Lairg by seven and to pick her up again at nine, well…who knows what will happen…if you get my meaning?”
The Stalker hid wanted tae bite the face aff ae him, bit hid held his wheesht. He hid patiently explained again and emphasised how important it wis fur McTavish tae be his driver.
“If Ah know McBride, he’ll know that the shite is aboot tae hit the fan, so Ah reckon he’ll either go fur a mad dash back tae Glesga or he’ll take his time, tae let the dust settle. Noo, if ma theory is right and he’s taken the Ullapool route, tae go via Gairloch, then there’s a good chance we kin intercept him oan route. Noo, Ah cannae dae this oan ma lonesome and since ye’re aw Ah’ve goat, then Ah’m afraid, ye’re ma man. So, withoot further ado, heid in the direction ae the A87, via Garve and Achnasheen, and we’ll consider yer position wance we get there.”
“Are you sure about this? Inspector Cotter has been around for years and I’m surprised he didn’t think of that. But, then again, maybe he did and then dismissed it out of hand,” McTavish hid said, trying tae be helpful.
The Stalker’s patience hid been starting tae wear thin. He’d looked at the PC beside him. The urge tae gie this country yokel a swift size ten in the auld ging-gang-goolies and tae tell him he couldnae gie a monkey’s fuck whit Cotter thought wis so overwhelming, he’d almost fainted, bit wance again, he’d held back efter coonting tae five, deciding tae use the auld ‘Ah’m yer pal and colleague’ tactic.
“Look, Swein...it is Swein, isn’t it?”
“Aye, it is.”
“Right, Swein, Ah don’t hiv time tae hiv this conversation at this particular minute or time ae the day. If it’s okay wae yersel, could ye please get that Highland arse ae yers tae shift this car above second gear? Ah want tae try and intercept ma quarry the day and no sometime next week.”
“You’re in charge, Sarge,” McTavish hid grumbled, shifting up a gear, clearly no happy.
“I take it you know where ye’re gaun, then…Swein?” The Stalker asked him as they turned right and heided up Struie Hill.
“We need to head for Dingwall and then head west towards Ullapool on the A835. We’ll come to Garve and then turn off on to the A832, which will take us down past Achnasheen, then the A890 down to Strathcarron. We keep on the A890 until we reach the A87 junction just along from The Kyle of Lochalsh. It’ll take us a few hours and we’ll need to avoid the sheep and the deer on the roads at this time of year,” McTavish explained.
“Perfect. Noo, Ah want ye tae tell me everything that his happened in the area since Paul McBride came amongst youse, and Ah mean everything. Don’t leave anything oot.”
Chapter Forty Seven
At Kinlochewe, Paul stoapped tae hiv a wee swatch ae the map.
“According to your road route, it says we turn right here,” Saba volunteered, looking aboot oot the windae, as Paul took the map fae her.
“Aye, it also says oan ma list that efter Ullapool, we wur supposed tae turn left tae get tae Gairloch as well.”
“Aha! Is that an admission that you were wrong and I was right?” Saba beamed, turning towards him, a look ae triumph oan that face ae hers.
“Saba, Ah don’t know whit the hell ye’re oan, bit this isnae some wee holiday jaunt, so it’s no. This his goat serious consequences if Ah get this wrang, so Ah’d appreciate it if ye stoapped playing games and started taking this seriously.”
“So, you admit it then?” she hooted, as Wan-eye looked at him, waiting fur his answer.
“Naw, it means you hid the benefit ae a nice sunny morning when ye wur
looking at the map while Ah’d been trying tae see it by candlelight in the croft,” he’d scowled, as Wan-eye’s heid swivelled back tae her.
“Yeah, right.”
“Ah’m telling ye.”
“Sure.”
“Saba, fuck aff. Why wid Ah lie tae ye aboot something like that, eh?”
“Because lies seem to trip off your tongue like honey off a hot spoon,” she mumbled, looking oot ae her side ae the vehicle.
“Right, okay, when hiv Ah lied tae ye, or that pal ae yours who went tae school wae ye, who ye noo employ as a skivvy?” he hit her wae, as she opened her gub tae say something, bit insteid turned and looked oot ae her side ae the car as he gied Wan-eye a wee triumphant wink.
Silence.
“You, me and Wan-eye aw know ye’re talking rubbish. Ye’re jist looking fur a fight, so ye ur,” he mumbled as he tried tae find where they wur oan the map. “The quicker ye realise that Ah’ll always get the better ae ye, the easier it’ll be oan aw ae us.”
“Don’t be so defensive. You, me and One-eye know for a fact that you’ve consistently lied to me.”
“Is that right? So, hit me wae an example then.”
“Forget it.”
“Ah will.”
“You told me that One-eye was not an apprentice poaching dog.”
“So?”
“And within two seconds of meeting those gypsy people, you told them that the reason that One-eye only has one eye is because one of the estate keepers kicked it out because he was being trained up as a poaching dog.”
“And yer point is whit?”
“You clearly didn’t lie to them, but, you did to me when you denied he was an apprentice poacher.”
“Saba, that wisnae a lie.”
“What was it then?”
“Look, Ah kin tell ye anything Ah want, including making things up, bit it still widnae be lying.”
“What would it be then?” she asked, exaggerating that incredulous expression that she plastered across that face ae hers. “Even One-eye recognises a forked tongue…your expression…when he hears one.”
“Don’t bring Wan-eye intae the argument. Remember it wis wan ae yer so called employees who took his eye oot. And as fur whit Ah tell ye? As far as Ah’m concerned, you and people like ye ur the enemy. Ah kin come oot wae any auld shite tae get people like that aff that back ae mine, so Ah kin.”
Silence.
“Am I the enemy, Paul?”
“Fur Christ’s sake Saba…wake up…of course ye’re the enemy. Ye don’t think ye’re here through ma choice, dae ye? If Ah could’ve done this withoot ye, dae ye think Ah’d be sitting hivving this conversation wae somewan like you? Christ, even Wan-eye knows no tae trust ye,” Paul shot back.
“Thank you very much for those kind words. You’ve made me feel really good about myself…again,” she sobbed, opening the door and stepping oot oan tae the road.
“Right, while you’re away aff in a huff bubbling…again, kin ye go and ask that auld guy sitting by his garden gate and looking across at us, if the road oan the right will take us tae Lochcarron…and wid ye stoap bloody slamming the door. Ye’re upsetting Wan-eye, so ye ur,” Paul shouted at her angry back, as she stomped across the road.
“He says yes, but he doesn’t think you’ll manage with the boat on the trailer,” Saba sniffled, wiping a tear fae her cheek as she opened the door and climbed back in.
“Whit’s the problem?”
“Your aggressive attitude towards me is so upsetting,” she sobbed, as Wan-eye lay his heid oan her lap.
“Naw, Ah meant wae the road.”
“Oh!” she sniffed. “He says it’s mostly single track and even at passing places, he doesn’t think people will get past us.”
“Look, Ah’m sorry. Okay?”
“I don’t believe you,” she replied, as Paul honked the horn at the auld boy before turning right.
“Look, Ah get annoyed when ye look triumphant because ye think ye’ve goat wan o’er oan me.”
“I smile because it’s clear you feel the need to be in control of everything. The problem with you is that you don’t know when to differentiate between what is important and what is not, so you end up getting your knickers in a twist.”
“Fur a start, that’s ma line, and secondly, Ah’ve jist made a confession tae ye. Ye should be honoured. That’s probably the first confession Ah’ve made tae anywan since a priest conned me intae admitting it wis me that broke a windae in his chapel when Ah wis five. Efter conning me intae confessing, the basturt then ladled intae ma bare legs wae his leather belt.”
“Stop!” Saba screamed.
“Aw, fur Christ’s sake, whit hiv Ah done noo?” Paul demanded, slamming oan the brakes a couple ae hundred yards up fae the turn-aff.
“Who are you?”
“Who ur you?”
“Will you stop answering a question with a question?”
“Ah’m Paul McBride fae Toonheid, Glesga, who’s trying tae get hame in wan piece.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that jist before Ah turned twelve, me and ma pals broke intae a shoap. Efter we tanned the windae and grabbed the loot, we goat chased by the bizzies…”
“The police?”
“And tae escape them, we ended up heiding through the back closemooths ae the hooses in the street where, due tae it being pitch black, there wis mair ae a chance ae us getting away. Anyway, in the confusion ae the darkness, wan ae the bizzies, a right eejit who claimed tae be a Christian, called Crisscross, oan account ae no hivving jist wan, bit two squinty eyes, started tae let fly wae his baton. In the confusion ae hitting anything that moved, he scudded his partner and burst his heid wide open. Two ae ma pals goat away, but me and ma pal, Joe McManus, goat huckled.”
“Huckled?”
“Captured. Anyway, Ah goat charged wae attempted murder before it wis eventually reduced tae serious assault and wis sent tae an approved school. Ah've been there ever since, apart fae when Ah’ve been able tae escape and go oan the run.”
“Approved school? Is that some sort of correctional facility for juvenile delinquents?”
“Naw…it’s a place where ye’re sent if they want tae contain ye or ye don’t fit in or they cannae be arsed wae ye.”
“So, you’re claiming that you were innocent?”
“Ah wis innocent ae that particular charge.”
“Is that not what they all say?”
“Who?”
“All the people who get caught doing wrong?”
“Aye.”
“But you’re saying that you truly were innocent?”
“Ah’m no saying or pleading anything. Ah’m jist telling ye whit happened tae me, which wis a long time ago. It’s been a long journey and aw Ah want is tae get hame in wan piece.”
“To Glasgow?”
“Tae Glesga, aye.”
“What about Morven?”
“Morven? Whit aboot her?”
“Well, it seems to me that you’ve got a home and a job in the Highlands on the croft. She’s really fond of you. Could you not see yourself wanting to live and work in the strath?”
“You live in a bloody castle, wae people running efter ye, haun and fit, and ye’re clearly no happy. Whit makes ye think Ah’d be any different living in a place that tries tae impersonate a hoose?”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“It just is.”
“Right, well, Ah’m hearing whit ye’re saying, bit remind me ae why it’s different again.”
“It just is.”
“Well, tell me whit it is then.”
“I don’t belong there.”
“Okay, well, Ah kin relate tae that, given that Ah’ve only been there fur five minutes. You, or at least yer family, hiv been there fur aboot three hunner years, so if Saba Blair MacIain MacDonald disnae feel she belongs in the Highlands, wae a name like that, why the fuck wid ye think Ah wid?”
“You don’t und
erstand.”
“Try me.”
“Forget it, let’s just drive on,” she said dismissively, wae a flick ae her haun in the direction they should be driving in.
“Ah’ll drive and you kin explain,” he said, starting up the engine.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“So whit? Ah’m interested in learning how tae understaun…Christ, if ma auld teachers could hear me noo.”
“When I was young, my parents broke up and there was a lot of acrimony.”
“Whit dis that mean?”
“It means there was a lot of shouting and screaming and plates being broken. Why are you smiling? It isn’t funny.”
“Ah’m sorry, bit the thought ae yer ma and da, The Duchess and The Duke, slinging plates at each other isnae something Ah’d hiv imagined.”
“Why not? They’re human, just like everyone else.”
“Ah know, bit Ah’ve goat this vision in ma heid ae them getting the servants tae sling the plates, oan their behauf, at each other.”
“Why would you think something like that?”
“Furget it, it’s jist how ma brain works, bit Ah bet they never picked up the broken bits efter their wee battles wae each other,” Paul replied, smiling.
“I’m sorry, this is hopeless. I can’t explain to you. I knew you wouldn’t understand,” she said, turning and staring at a heron, that wis trying tae keep its balance while staunin oan a branch ae a hauf-submerged tree oan the River Torridon.
“Fur Christ’s sake, Saba, wid ye stoap avoiding talking aboot it. Ah bet ye anything that Ah could probably tell ye why ye don’t want tae live up here anyway.”
“Somehow, I don’t think so.”
“Is that right? Well, try this. As a wee wean, ye wur brought up by people other than yer parents. Ye wur ordered when tae get up, when tae go tae bed and when tae eat by strangers other than that ma and da ae yers. Ye wur put tae a school…in your case, probably wan ae they fancy rich joints that cost a fortune, so yer ma and da didnae hiv the hassle ae hivving a wee snapper…a female wan at that…hinging aboot tae get in the way, which left ye tae the mercy ae lassies and adults bigger and aulder than yersel…”