Heads or Hearts

by Paul Johnston

  ‘Quite possibly.’

  ‘What the hell does that mean? Express yourself clearly.’

  I raised my eyes. ‘Yes, if you must know. Davie, these vehicles don’t have digital positioning units, do they?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘And you probably would know. All right, head for that safe house in Stockbridge.’

  We got to the inner suburb by the Water of Leith, about a quarter of a mile north of the central zone, in just over six minutes. The house – or rather first-floor flat – was in a narrow street in a maze of similar ones. It wasn’t registered to any directorate, but I’d kept the key after the owner did a bunk to Fife. He’d helped us in a major case and I’d managed to doctor his record to show that his family was still in the place, although they’d left with him. If you control the data you can do anything in Edinburgh.

  ‘OK,’ I said when we stopped on Raeburn Place. ‘Take the 4×4 into the Colonies.’ That area nearby has plenty of narrow streets too. ‘Give us half an hour and then join us. Try not to get picked up.’

  ‘I’ll set my Hyper-Stun to er … stun.’

  ‘Come on, old man,’ I said, helping him out. ‘It’s just a couple of minutes’ walk. Or ten minutes’ stagger in your case.’

  ‘Very funny, failure. You know, this is rather exciting.’

  ‘Rather,’ I muttered, locating the keys in my wallet.

  I opened the street door and pushed my father up the stairs. The second key turned and I pushed the door open.

  I knew instantly from the smell of sweat that someone was in residence.

  ‘Who are you, son?’ an elderly woman asked, coming in from a room to the rear.

  ‘I could ask you that question,’ I said, getting the old man into a tattered armchair.

  ‘Ahm Val Campbell,’ she said, smiling sweetly.

  ‘And Ahm her husband John,’ said a broad-chested man, who must have been in his seventies.

  I identified myself and Hector, my heart sinking.

  ‘The investigator who works for the Cooncil?’ the woman said. ‘We’ve read lots aboot you over the years.’

  ‘Em, thanks. How did you find this place?’ I asked.

  ‘Oor son, Michael – Hume 481 – told us aboot it. He kens a lot ae useful things, being in the Guard.’

  Shit. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them that their son’s heart had been removed. So this is where they’d been. No wonder they’d disappeared off the radar. Both their faces were drawn.

  ‘Can ye get us something tae eat, son?’ Val said. ‘Only, Michael tellt us tae wait here and no go oot, and he hasnae come back.’

  I thought about that, then called Davie and told him to pick up some bread, milk and cheese. Then I had an idea.

  ‘Go to Raeburn. You’ll soon know if there’s an alarm out for us. Bring a couple of reliable Guard personnel back with you after you ransack the canteen.’ The barracks was only a few minutes’ drive away.

  ‘D’ye ken aboot oor son, Citizen Dalrymple?’ John said. ‘Is he to dae wi’ one o’ yer big cases?’

  ‘No,’ I lied. ‘But I’ll check when I go to the castle.’

  ‘That’s great,’ Val said, smiling broadly.

  I felt like a bastard, but I couldn’t have people weeping and wailing till things were sorted out.

  We chatted, my father even chipping in with dry comments. He’d never had a problem talking to ordinary citizens, whereas my mother used to look down on them.

  ‘What do you think about the football being brought back, John?’ I asked.

  ‘Och, it’s brilliant, it is. Ahm a Hibee and Ah went tae Easter Road a good few times last season.’

  ‘I’m a Hibee too,’ I said, hoping he didn’t ask me about their performance. I hadn’t a clue where they’d ended up in the EPL.

  ‘Great!’ John said, sticking out his hand.

  I shook it, then went for broke. ‘You ever gambled on matches?’

  He looked down. ‘That’s illegal.’

  I laughed. ‘Aye, technically, but who do you think organizes it? The Recreation Directorate, of course.’

  John’s head stayed low. ‘Ah wouldnae ken aboot that. Ah just enjoy the fitba, even if it’s shite compared wi’ the old days.’

  It was obvious that he had laid bets – perhaps he was embarrassed to admit it in front of his wife. Citizens had to use food and clothing vouchers to pay, meaning they went hungry and cold if, or rather when, they lost.

  There was a faint knock on the door. I went down and opened it an inch, then further to admit Davie and two of his comrades. One, Raeburn 302, was an experienced-looking guardswoman and the other, Raeburn 499, was young and built like an old-fashioned police box. They were both carrying boxes of provisions.

  I took Davie aside. ‘You trust this pair?’

  ‘I saved their lives, not at the same time. They’ll walk through fire for me.’

  ‘Excellent.’ I went over to Val. ‘Do you think you could look after my father for a few hours? The guards will help, but I think you’ve a more homely hand.’

  ‘Course Ah will, dearie.’ She bent over the old man’s chair. ‘Ah’ll get a nice cup of tea for you in a minute.’

  I went into the bedroom and opened the wardrobe doors. I would stick out like a gigolo in my leather jacket, so I was glad to see an old donkey jacket on a hanger.

  ‘Is this yours?’ I said to John.

  ‘Naw, it wus here when we arrived.’

  ‘Ah’ll look after that, son,’ Val said, taking my leather jacket. ‘Nice cut. Maybe it’ll fit your father.’

  I left them to it and told the Guard personnel to contact us the minute anything suspicious happened – and to barricade the door after we left.

  Davie and I moved slowly down the back street. I hadn’t said goodbye to my father. There was a chance I wouldn’t be coming back, but I didn’t want to worry him.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ Davie asked.

  ‘I’m working on it,’ I said as we headed towards the 4×4.

  In truth, I was all at sea. I needed to set a trap, but being unsure who I could trust made that difficult. Then it came to me.

  ‘Where to?’ Davie said after we got into the vehicle.

  ‘The Supply Directorate depot.’

  He gave me a dubious look. ‘You trust the senior guardian?’

  ‘Of course not, but if he’s got dirty hands, his stronghold will be the last place he’ll expect us to attack.’

  ‘Is that what we’re going to do?’

  ‘What, are you scared?’

  ‘Fuck off. But we’ll be heavily outnumbered.’

  ‘No, we won’t. Trust me.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve done that plenty of times and nearly lost my head.’

  ‘In this case, it would be your heart. Set your Hyper-Stun to maximum and pray to the ghost of Plato.’

  ‘That’ll be all right, then,’ he said.

  Davie dropped me at the Fruitmarket entrance to the Supply Directorate depot at the old railway station.

  ‘Are you sure you can tell who to trust in Hume?’ I said.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve kept up with the good ones.’

  ‘Get back here as fast as you can and look for me in the security section on the left as you go in.’

  ‘Here,’ he said, handing me his Hyper-Stun. ‘I can get a replacement at barracks.’

  I took the bulky weapon and held it under my jacket. The guards on the gate inspected my Council authorization. If they were in league with the opposition, my arrival would be passed on. I was hoping for that. If they turned out to be clean, I’d find another way of attracting attention.

  I banged on the door and went in. To my relief Jimmy Taggart was there, tucking into what looked like Parma ham and polenta.

  ‘Hullo, sir,’ he said, getting to his feet.

  ‘Jimmy. Where’s your team?’

  ‘Out in the stacks.’

  ‘Have you got today’s list of shipments
not to be inspected?’

  He nodded to a printout at the far end of the table.

  ‘Right, if you can tear yourself away from pork and corn products, let’s go and tear these incoming loads apart.’

  He grinned. ‘Are we going up against the bad guys?’

  ‘You could say that. Your people, are they dependable?’

  ‘I weeded out the thieves and informers, aye.’

  ‘Good. Hume 253’s bringing backup.’

  ‘Crazy Davie? He should liven things up.’

  I’d never heard my friend called that. If we survived, there would be major mockery potential. Along with Thunder Boots.

  ‘Here,’ I said, handing him the Hyper-Stun.

  ‘You keep that, sir,’ Taggart said, going over to a steel cabinet and unlocking the door. There was a row of combat rifles, and boxes of sidearms, ammunition and grenades. ‘For use only in extreme situations. I take it this is one.’

  ‘It will be.’

  The old guardsman grinned. ‘I miss being out on the border with real weapons. Now I can die happy.’

  That was inspirational but also deeply worrying.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Davie called when Jimmy and I were going through the first shipment. Inside school desks from a woodworking company in East Kilbride were ten blocks of plastic explosive and another package of cocaine.

  ‘Quint, the pillocks at the gate won’t let us in. Do I throw the book or my fist at them?’

  ‘The latter. We’re in Stack 12b. Stun anyone who has a go at you.’

  The connection was cut.

  A couple of minutes later, Davie and a band of about twenty guardsmen and women arrived, Hyper-Stuns raised.

  ‘Any trouble?’ I asked.

  ‘A few idiots who’ll wake up with their heads buzzing. I told them we had Council authorization.’

  ‘Interesting. Do you think anyone else saw you?’

  At that moment a siren began to wind up to full blare.

  ‘Yes,’ Davie mouthed.

  ‘Where’s the nearest shipment on the list?’ I said in Taggart’s hairy ear.

  He checked. ‘Next stack.’

  We all moved round the corner, Davie putting down a Guard commander who came at him. I bowed my head as wires began to whip around me. The Guard personnel on site definitely weren’t friendly, but they stood little chance against more hardened comrades. The Supply Directorate was notorious for inducing laziness and a lack of sharpness in Public Order Directorate personnel, despite the importance of the posting.

  There were at least fifteen prone guardsmen and women in the passage way, while none of the Hume group had been hit.

  ‘That crate there,’ Jimmy Taggart shouted, pointing.

  We levered open the top and hit serious pay dirt.

  ‘Is that gold?’ Davie said.

  ‘Ingots,’ I confirmed. ‘The shipment’s supposed to be tins of water chestnuts and bamboo shoots from Malaysia.’

  The noise around us increased, shouted orders and the tramp of Guard-issue boots getting closer.

  ‘Time to make a call,’ I said, kneeling down behind the gold. I passed on my message. It seemed to be taken seriously.

  Guard vehicles came closer, 4×4s and armoured personnel carriers that the Public Order Directorate had recently bought from Glasgow. They had our range and they also had machine-pistols. We took some hits, none of them fatal.

  ‘Pull over the crates and barrels on both sides,’ I yelled. ‘We need a fortress.’

  A few minutes later we had one.

  ‘This isn’t going to last long,’ Davie yelled, stunning a guardsman who had climbed up the neighbouring stack. ‘Shouldn’t you call—’ He broke off to take down another intruder. At least there was no need to make any more calls.

  Suddenly the enemy fire stopped. APCs blocked both ends of the stack.

  I gave Davie instructions, my hand on his arm. ‘Watch my back,’ I said, handing him the Hyper-Stun.

  ‘Are you out of your—’

  I was over our makeshift wall before he finished the sentence. I probably was taking too big a chance but I didn’t want unnecessary casualties.

  I walked towards the vehicle on the right because I could see the person I wanted in the front seat. I raised my hand.

  Guardian Doris opened the front door and stood behind it for a few moments before moving into the open. Her two gorillas flanked her. Numerous muzzles, including all three of theirs, were aimed at me and I felt sweat run down my arms.

  ‘What on earth are you doing, citizen?’ she shouted, playing the injured party.

  I laughed, though not too disrespectfully. I wanted my body to come out of the encounter unstunned and without entry, never mind exit, wounds.

  ‘What on earth have you been doing, guardian?’ I found it hard to use her first name now.

  ‘I’ve no idea what you mean,’ she replied, her jaw jutting.

  ‘Tell your people to lower their weapons.’ I pointed to the heap of crates behind me. ‘It’s not as if we’re going to fight our way out.’

  I heard a growl from Davie, but he must have understood that I was right.

  She gave the order, but the semi-automatic pistol remained in her hand, pointing at my feet.

  ‘Why did you do it?’ I asked, hoping Davie had one of his team relaying the conversation to Radio Free City and elsewhere, as I’d asked.

  The guardian frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Put on a blonde wig, pad out your chest and place the first heart on the centre circle at Tynecastle.’

  ‘What?’ She looked as if I’d kicked her in the belly.

  ‘I saw strands from the wig the last time I was in your office.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ she said. ‘You’re imagining things.’

  ‘Uh-huh. You invented the call to your mobile advising discretion, didn’t you?’

  ‘You’re rambling, man.’

  ‘Guardian numbers are classified. How did the supposed caller obtain it? In any case you realized it was risky, so you didn’t pretend there was one after the murder of Hume 481.’

  She took a step back, presumably shocked by the accuracy of what I was saying.

  ‘I …’

  ‘You arranged for those boot prints to be found at Tynecastle after we took out the blonde shooter over the line.’

  ‘I …’ The guardian was struggling to concoct a story. My problem was that she didn’t have to. If I wasn’t able to keep surprising her, she could simply shoot me.

  ‘Did you know about Brian Cowan’s activities?’

  ‘I … I knew he was planning something.’ She shook her head. ‘But he’s a madman. I preferred my own approach.’

  ‘After all, the castle is the heart of the city.’

  Her nostrils flared and she raised her weapon. ‘Don’t try to belittle me, Dalrymple. I love Edinburgh and I know it’ll be irreparably damaged if there’s a vote to rejoin Scotland.’

  ‘You know that how?’ I said, playing for time.

  ‘I know that an independent Edinburgh has been and will continue to be a success. It’ll be a disaster if Glasgow and the other states take over. We’ll become a backwater.’

  ‘You knew about the football gambling scheme, didn’t you?’

  She looked at me as if I was the class clown. ‘Of course.’

  ‘Your friend – and, I guess, lover – Alice Scobie told you.’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t approve of it, but I was able to use it for my own ends.’

  ‘What were you going to do with the plastic explosive and gold we found?’

  She laughed, almost light-headedly. ‘What do you think? Bring pro-Scotland supporters to their knees by the threat of serious violence and buy votes.’

  ‘But despite your huge workload, you didn’t appoint a deputy. Couldn’t you find one you could trust?’

  The guardian pursed her lips. ‘There are protocols and procedures, as you well know. Next in line for deputy is Hume 253 and I
was hardly going to use him.’

  I smiled. ‘Davie would have been a liability.’

  ‘Bloody right,’ came a shout from the fort.

  ‘Whose idea was it that you put hearts on the pitches in Glasgow, Inverness and the Lord of the Isles’ region?’

  ‘You ask a lot of questions, Dalrymple – not that I care. I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. I was in contact with anti-Scotland campaigners in those places. It was decided that I was best qualified to leave the hearts.’

  ‘Did you cut them out yourself?’

  Her eyes opened wide. ‘Of course not. I have a butcher on my staff.’

  ‘Lovely. And he used a serrated knife to conceal his expertise.’

  The guardian’s pistol was now aimed at my heart and I’d run out of stalling questions.

  ‘Where’s your father, Dalrymple?’ she said. ‘I’ll find out and it’ll go badly for him.’

  ‘I knew you’d go after an old and defenceless man.’

  ‘Hector Dalrymple could be a dangerous opposition figurehead. I’ll terminate anyone who endangers my mission.’

  I was obviously a dead man in her eyes. ‘Your mission is to protect this city and its citizens, according to the regulations and the decisions of the Council.’

  She looked round.

  I took the opportunity to leap back over the crates. No one fired.

  Another APC appeared behind the guardian’s, blocking it. Fergus Calder’s voice came from a megaphone mounted on its roof, demanding that all weapons be dropped.

  ‘Quite the little hero, aren’t we?’ said Davie.

  Jimmy Taggart grinned. ‘Like back in the day.’

  I raised my hand and peered out between two crates.

  ‘Citizen Dalrymple did us the courtesy of relaying your conversation,’ the senior guardian continued. ‘Public order guardian, you’ll receive a fair trial.’

  Inasmuch as Edinburgh had trials. A quick hearing in Council and a cell in her former fiefdom was the best she could hope for. Execution was more likely.

  I heard the sound of more approaching APCs.

  ‘You’re outnumbered,’ the senior guardian said. ‘Anyone who complies will only undergo rehabilitative auxiliary training.’