‘We have to be quick. Please, Mrs Shannon. For the sake of your family, please!’ pleaded Daley.
As the thud of the rotor blades grew louder, the lights of the aircraft swept into the room through the large French windows. ‘Well, can you live with our agreement, Charles?’ asked Ailsa. ‘You needn’t suffer.’
He grunted and loosened his grip on Nadia, letting his gun fall to the floor.
‘Thank you,’ said Ailsa. ‘A good decision.’ She picked up the radio and spoke into it. The helicopter took a wide arc of the bay, its incredibly bright search light penetrating the gloom as it hovered a few hundred yards from Kersivay House.
‘What now?’ shouted Daley above the din, coughing at the acrid smoke that was now billowing from under the steel doors.
‘We should leave – if this little charade is over. Is it over, Charles?’
He stepped towards her, slowly, the hem of his cloak brushing the floor. Two security guards kept their weapons pointed at his back.
‘You know, don’t you?’ he said, looking straight into the old woman’s face.
‘Yes. I’ve known for a long time.’
‘Doesn’t it make a difference?’
‘Remember pragmatism,’ she replied.
‘What do you know?’ shouted Bruce.
Brady turned to face him. ‘I’m Archibald Shannon.’ He looked back at his mother and nodded. She smiled back in return.
It was as though time had stopped. Despite the roar of the raging fire and the thud from the helicopter, everything seemed to slow. Those in the room stared at each other as though mesmerised. ‘Mother, is this true?’ asked Bruce in disbelief. ‘I . . . I can’t believe it!’
‘Again, you’ve failed to grasp the essentials, Bruce.’ She turned to Brady, her eldest son, and reached out to touch his face. ‘There really was no need for the bones and that shoe. All very melodramatic but I’m not spooked very easily.
Bruce stared at the unlikely pair. He could see it now; the resemblance to his father in Charles’s face. ‘You’ve grieved for my brother for years, we all have, and now it’s as if you don’t give a damn.’
‘I grieved for the little boy I lost. The little boy my grandfather couldn’t bear to see turn into all he despised – a Shannon. That child was lost a long time ago.’ She held Brady’s gaze. ‘And he’s not coming back.’
Brady stared into his mother’s face. ‘He saved me from turning into of them. But it was too late for you; you’re a Shannon now, through and through. All these terrible things, it was you in charge all along.’ He looked at Bruce – the man who’d been his friend, his long-lost brother. ‘I would never have harmed her,’ he said, nodding at Nadia, who cowered in her father’s embrace. I had a daughter, too.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Bruce. ‘What daughter?’
‘Veronica More, my dear. Mr Daley’s tormentor, so I’m led to believe. She even had the same problems that your poor Nadia still suffers from. All in the genes, I’m afraid. My other granddaughter.’
Bruce thought of the Australian minister’s young wife. The same dark hair, green eyes – the same lost look. He almost cried out.
Ailsa spoke calmly into the radio again and the helicopter slowly turned to circle the bay, gaining height as it did so. ‘We have to get to the roof,’ Ailsa said calmly. There is a helipad there. We’ll be out of this house in minutes.’
‘But how do we get to the roof from here?’ The panic in Maxwell’s voice was plain.
‘You must remember, Maxie, there’s not an inch of this house I don’t know.’
‘So this has all been a charade, Mrs Shannon?’ asked Daley. ‘Let me tell you now, it’s been a deadly one.’
‘I had to deal with what confronted me, Mr Daley. I’ve done my best. I’m sorry for those who lost their lives.’
Charles Brady – Archibald Shannon – looked back at his mother, his brother his niece and his cousin. He nodded his head, then, without warning, ran out across the balcony towards the edge of the parapet, onto which he clambered unsteadily in the snow.
‘Charles, or whoever you bloody well are, what on earth are you doing?’ shouted Maxwell. ‘Come back in, for fuck’s sake. We need to get out of here.’
Brady paused. In the distance, the rock thrust out into the promontory under the pale moonlight. The rock where once the Shannons had served the king in his castle, fought with swords, been strong and brave. The long beach was a silver strip, shining in the gloom.
He stepped out into the darkness, his arms outstretched, and fell. His cloak billowed out behind him as he plummeted down the side of the mansion, past the cliff and onto the dark rocks below.
49
Daley looked on in disbelief. More smoke was escaping under the doors now, making breathing difficult.
‘He was my first son,’ said Ailsa. ‘I loved him. My grandfather couldn’t go through with his plan. Couldn’t watch my child slowly become a Shannon the way . . . the way I did. The day he took him away, it was already too late.’ Ailsa looked out into the distance. The noise from the helicopter was at its loudest now, directly above the house.
‘Don’t you feel anything?’ shouted Bruce above the din. ‘What kind of monster are you?’
‘I’m the head of the family. The Shannon family,’ she said, almost to herself.
‘Can we just get out of here!’ said Maxwell.
‘Archibald Shannon, my son, died fifty years ago.’
‘No he didn’t!’ shouted Bruce. ‘That was him, Brady. Don’t you care at all?’
‘Grow up, Bruce. Be a man and stand up for what’s yours for once in your life. If you want to be my heir you’ll have to toughen up.’
‘No, Mother, I don’t want to be your heir. I can’t stand it any longer. Do what you have to save us. But then it’s over.’
‘Your choice,’ said Ailsa. ‘You have the next few minutes to reconsider. But son or no son, if you decide to go, there’s no coming back.’
‘I have no doubt about that, Mother.’
‘Now, shall we?’ She looked around the ballroom. ‘Goodbye, brother,’ she whispered.
Dunn could see the flames leaping from broken windows. The top half of the mansion was ablaze.
She and Jock had seen the helicopter hover above the house and then disappear across the bay to the sleek vessel moored there. She prayed that Daley was safe, but fear held her heart in its icy grip.
As they neared the building, she could see a crowd of people streaming towards them down the steep drive.
‘What’s happened?’ she shouted, grabbing an elderly woman who was about to slip on the slick surface. After hearing what the old lady had to say, Dunn elbowed her way through the throng towards the house. She could see Scott and Symington standing below the mansion, staring up at the flames.
‘Sergeant, ma’am, where’s . . .’ She didn’t manage to get the rest of the words out. The look on Scott’s face was enough to make her scream in despair.
‘Look!’ shouted Jock, pointing back down the drive. Far below, flashing lights could be seen, making their way through the village and towards the long driveway. ‘The road must be clear,’ he said, his deep voice resonant in the night air.
Scott looked at Symington. ‘Too late for oor boys,’ he said grimly.
Symington passed her hand across her face, trying to hide her strain from her colleagues. She’d been flung headlong into a nightmare that seemed to have no end. She looked about, desperate to do something, say anything, to mitigate the terrible situation, but no words came.
From behind, she heard a shout. As she and Scott stared into the darkness, four figures made their way from the back of the mansion.
‘Jimmy!’ shouted Scott, running towards his friend. Daley, Aitcheson and the two Support Unit cops – one the missing constable Booth – staggered along the path towards them.
‘How the fuck did you get out of there, man?’
Daley stopped and bent down, his hands on his knees, cou
ghing. ‘Long story, Bri,’ he said, gasping for breath. ‘There was an old service stairway behind the ballroom at the rear of the building. Ailsa knew about it all along. We got onto the roof and were taken off by the helicopter.’
Dunn looked up. She didn’t care about protocol any more, about the fact that Daley was her boss or their superintendent was looking on. She rushed towards him and jumped into his arms. ‘I love you, Jim,’ she whispered.
He didn’t hesitate. ‘I love you too, Mary.’
‘Good to see a close-knit working unit,’ smiled Jock.
‘I’ve known him for years and he’s never been that close-knit wae me,’ said Scott.
‘Bugger off,’ said Symington with a smile.
Out in the bay, the helicopter was landing on the Shannon cruiser. A blue flash heralded the arrival of the emergency services at the bottom of the long driveway. Jock looked back at the mansion. The top floors were now ablaze and the roof was beginning to catch fire. ‘It’s been here for a hundred years but I don’t think it’ll make another hundred.’
He produced a black-and-white photograph from his pocket. Two young children stood on a pier beside a tall, powerfully built man. ‘Poor Percy – or Lachie, as I first knew him.’
‘You mean he’s the boy in the photo? I knew I recognised him,’ said Scott. ‘I racked my brains trying tae work that out.’
‘Aye, he is that. We played together as boys. How he thought I wouldn’t recognise him when he came back as an adult, I don’t know.’
‘I don’t suppose you know who the wee lassie is, then?’ asked Scott.
‘It’s Ailsa Shannon,’ said Daley, still holding Dunn. ‘The woman who was sent to destroy the Shannons but became one of them. Everyone concentrated on the wee boy and forgot the little girl. We all made the same mistake. Even Brady. His body is at the bottom of the cliff under the house. I’ll fill you in later, ma’am. He jumped, by the way, but there’s so much more to it than that.’
‘I’m sure we can put the details of all this to bed over the next few days, people,’ said Symington, aware that not only police officers were present.
‘It’s a strange world, right enough,’ said Jock. ‘I kept my distance from the family, it was obvious that they wanted no truck with me. I left them alone and they left me alone. But in the end, the Stuarts never really left the land at Kersivay.’
‘Wait, I’m confused,’ said Scott. ‘If you knew a’ this, how come you never said anything?’
‘Nobody asked me.’
Scott’s reply was drowned out by sirens as the emergency services reached the top of the long drive.
As ambulances, police cars and fire engines finally made it to the top of the hill, Kersivay House burned.
On a rise beyond the house, out of sight, a figure looked on, the flames and flashing lights dancing on a dark cloak.
The wind whistled through the tall, old trees that stood sentinel around the Rat Stone. The serenade began; it could never end.
50
Back in the village, paramedics checked Daley and the other officers who had been trapped in the ballroom for problems caused by smoke inhalation, but passed them fit to travel back to Kinloch.
‘I’ll wind this up, here,’ said Symington. ‘Privilege of the new girl,’ she added with a smile. ‘It’s been a rough few days. I want you all to get a rest and we’ll meet tomorrow evening at the office for a debrief.’
Daley tarried at Symington’s side. ‘I want to thank you, ma’am.’
‘Really, what for?’
‘That climb you made. It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.’
‘Get away with you, Jim,’ she said, smiling, a slight flush on her cheeks. ‘Listen, you and I have to talk over the next few days. I hear you’ve changed your mind about retiring. Am I right?’
Daley smiled and looked across at Dunn, who was brushing dirt from DS Scott’s jacket. ‘I’ve kind of made a promise. It’s difficult though, ma’am. I know you’re aware of how things are.’
‘Nothing is insurmountable, Jim. This is the twenty-first century. Shit happens.’ She looked up into his face. ‘We’re this job, it doesn’t need to be us. We’ll sort something out. I’m just pleased you’ve changed your mind. If the division’s going to be this challenging, I’ll need my best senior officer with me.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t bet against it being challenging, ma’am.’
‘Please, no one can hear you. It’s Carrie.’
‘Yes, Carrie,’ replied Daley awkwardly.
‘Now, get a lift home. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Wherever home is,’ said Daley, his gaze back on Mary.
Pollock was driving the police car carefully along the road back to Kinloch. Great white walls of snow lined the route, but the road itself appeared to be safely navigable.
‘We’ll drop you off at Machrie, dear, then we’ll get back to Kinloch,’ said Scott, turning round from the front seat to face Daley and Dunn in the back of the car.
Daley looked out into the darkness and sighed. ‘Drop me at Mary’s house, too, please, Willie.’
Dunn looked at him in the darkness. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s not going to be easy. Not in the beginning, anyway. But I’m sure. Are you?’
‘I couldn’t be surer,’ she replied, squeezing Daley’s hand.
They were dropped off at Dunn’s neat little cottage on the outskirts of Machrie. As a pale dawn broke over a white world, Daley waited at the door as she twisted her key in the lock.
‘Come in,’ she said, pushing open the door and turning on the hall light. ‘Welcome home.’
Daley didn’t hesitate as he walked into his new life.
*
She flung her head back as her motion eased. He cried out as he climaxed, then took a deep breath of the cold air of the little bedroom.
‘I love you, Jim Daley,’ she whispered, curled up by his side.
They stayed silent for a few moments, as their breathing eased, then Daley spoke. ‘I’ll have to go and see Liz later. Tell her how things are.’
‘I know it won’t be easy,’ she said. ‘I know how you feel about your little boy. I’m sorry I’ve made things so difficult.’
‘Couples divorce every day. It’s better he’s brought up by two parents who are happy apart than the reverse. Liz will soon move on, no doubt about that.’
‘I’ll have to tell Angus, too,’ she said. ‘I know it’s not the same, but . . .’ Her voice tailed off as she drifted off to sleep.
Bright sun shone through the flimsy curtains as he awoke in the double bed; not his own, but where he felt truly at home. The arty black-and-white photos hung on the wall beside the straw hat with the red bow, pinned to the side of the bed.
He could hear her moving around in the kitchen, but was surprised when she walked into the room dressed in jeans and a thick purple jumper, her auburn hair in a single pleat that hung over her right shoulder.
‘Here, have some coffee. I wasn’t sure you were awake, but I made it anyway.’ She gave him a thin smile.
‘What’s wrong? Have you changed your mind already?’ said Daley, only half in jest.
‘I’m off to tell Angus. We had plans, you know. Holidays, stuff like that. I’m dreading it. I hope his parents aren’t about.’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Daley, sipping his coffee. ‘Be careful. The roads might be clear but they’re still treacherous. Keep the foot off the floor.’
‘Yes, sir,’ she said laughing. Then she was suddenly serious. ‘You’ve been married for such a long time – and now there’s wee Jim to think of, too.’
‘Don’t call him wee Jim,’ said Daley, anxious to brighten the mood. ‘Makes him sound like a circus act.’
‘OK. Jimmy Junior then.’ She bent over to kiss him.
‘You’re going now? No time for . . .’
‘No!’ She punched him playfully in the stomach and he spilled some coffee on the sheets.
They kissed, th
en she walked to the door. She turned back and looked at him. ‘I love you so much, Jim Daley. I’ve never felt like this in my life before. It’s . . . it’s like the day you’re going on a special holiday. You know, one you’ve been looking forward to all your life. Do I sound stupid?’
‘No. No, you don’t. I love you too. Being apart from you – seeing you every day, seeing you with him – it’s broken my heart, over and over again.
‘Ditto, love, ditto,’ she said jokingly. ‘I won’t be long – about an hour or so, once I get to their farm and back. I shouldn’t think what I have to say will take long, but it has to be face to face. He deserves that, at least.’
‘Yeah, he does,’ replied Daley, already dreading the thought of telling Liz much the same thing.
‘See you later,’ she shouted, leaving the room. ‘Have a snooze. I’ll pick you up when I come back.’
He heard her pause in the hall. The bedroom door swung open again. ‘And don’t think you can go back on your promise. You’re withdrawing your resignation, right?’
‘Yes, I’m withdrawing my resignation. I’ve already spoken to Carrie about it. I’ll sort it out over the next few days.’
‘Oh, Carrie, now, is it? I’ll have to watch her.’ She grinned.
‘Very funny. I don’t sleep with every pretty colleague I work with, you know. You’re the first and you’ll be the last.’
‘Too right, Jimmy boy,’ she said, aping Scott’s voice. Her face softened, tears in her ice-blue eyes. ‘It’s you for ever, Jim Daley. Please never forget that.’
Before he could reply, she was gone. He heard her footsteps hurrying down the hall, then the door opened for a second and slammed shut.
He turned over in the bed. He could smell her perfume on the pillow as he drifted back off to sleep.
As Mary drove back to Machrie, she slipped a CD into the car stereo. She wasn’t sure if she’d always been keen on eighties music, or if she’d been trying to fit in with Daley’s tastes then come to enjoy it.
She hummed along tunelessly to the A-ha track as she felt the car slip slightly on the icy road surface. Better take it easy, she thought.
The Rat Stone Serenade Page 31