As it turned out, there was no Council meeting that night. It was rare but not unprecedented. Fergus Calder advised that he had to tend to the city’s guests after their shock. Given what Billy said, I wondered if the senior guardian was running scared.
I didn’t fancy another post-mortem, so I left it to Sophia and the Tall and Short pathologists. Back in the castle, Davie and I went back to Derick Smail’s cell. Only to find it was empty. A quick check of the other football managers showed they had all gone too.
I stormed over to the guardian’s office.
‘I’m sorry, Quint, it was out of my hands.’
‘The senior guardian.’
She nodded. ‘He said it was essential not to cause citizen unrest with the new season about to begin.’
‘But they’re all as bent as a Rose Street exotic dancer.’
‘That may be, but with the referendum coming up, no risk can be taken.’
‘Fantastic. So illegal betting’s been given the green light.’
She frowned. ‘You haven’t actually proved that any such thing’s been going on. The forensics team in the recreation guardian’s accommodation has found no hidden documents or diskettes.’
‘What about the coke and the treasure trove in the Pleasance?’
‘That’s a Leith Lancers operation. You haven’t established a firm link to Derick Smail.’
I groaned. ‘You heard him talking to Colquhoun. What else are they smuggling?’
‘Circumstantial at best. Oh, and by the way, the senior guardian vetoed any action against the Lancers. He doesn’t want chaos in the northern suburbs while there are guests in the city tomorrow and the day after.’
‘So we’re just going to sit back and wait for the Lord of the Isles, the Glaswegians and the missing heart to appear, are we? Or more heads to be detached? This isn’t exactly the Public Order Directorate’s finest hour.’
Guardian Doris gave me a sharp look. ‘There’s no shortage of leads to be followed up, citizen. Kindly do so.’
I almost told her to kindly stick her head in the toilet bowl, but managed to restrain myself. The thing was, she was right. I went out of her office at speed and called Davie to a meet in the canteen. He was already there.
‘Fill a few holes?’ I said, taking in the pile of plates.
‘Getting there.’ Davie was taking bites from a banana.
I ate some soup and a pork chop. At least heart wasn’t on the menu.
‘All right, chief,’ he said, ‘what do we do?’
‘Go back to basics.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Nail the outstanding leads.’
‘Oh, that kind of basics.’ He looked disappointed. ‘I thought you meant we’d go to Easter Road and pick up where we left off with that shite Smail.’
‘It’s a thought, but we need more proof. You saw how he and the others clammed up.’
‘All right, what’s outstanding?’ He looked across the room. ‘Apart from that guardswoman’s—’
‘Mind on the job, please.’
He grinned. ‘It was.’
‘I’m serious, guardsman. Take notes.’
‘Yes, sir.’
I glared at him ineffectually. ‘Hume 481.’
‘Michael Campbell, poor sod. There’s not much we can do for him now. Or his parents.’
‘Wherever they are. No, but we think he was in contact with outsider gangs, as was the late, decapitated Grant Brown.’ I paused. ‘I wonder what Campbell knew about the old church that’s full of treasure. Anyway, we need to get out to the city line and see what’s going on.’
‘That should be fun. We’ll need reinforcements.’
I shook my head. ‘Just you and me. I don’t trust anyone else.’
‘Let’s hope I know some of the personnel on the line then.’ His face brightened. ‘They’ve got firearms.’
‘What do you need them for? You’ve got your trusty Hyper-Stun. Next, Grant Brown’s foreman in the Housing Directorate. We need to talk to him – he might know what the dead man got up to.’
‘Before he was dead.’
I sighed. ‘There are plenty of ghosts in Enlightenment Edinburgh.’ Immediately Caro’s face loomed up, followed by a succession of others who’d died on my watch, some worthy of death, others definitely not.
‘Of course,’ Davie said, looking down.
‘Then there’s Grant Brown’s head. How did it get on the spike at the Tolbooth?’
‘The Guard squad claimed they didn’t see anything.’
‘Let’s go and scare the shit out of them.’
He got up.
‘Hang on. There are also the Porty Pish members. At least they haven’t been let loose.’
Davie’s head dropped. ‘Not exactly.’
‘What?’
‘The males are down the mines and the females on the farms. The guardian signed the order this afternoon.’
‘And omitted to mention it to me.’ I thought about that. ‘They probably wouldn’t have talked much anyway and it’s the Lancers who are still running free. And not to be disturbed, though we’ll see about that.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes. Who vacuumed the recreation guardian’s room before I got there? Who shut down his directorate’s mainframe and stole his personal computers? Who took the truth drug from the Medical Directorate store? And where did George Yule, that Lancer, get his unmarked van?’ I looked up. ‘I suppose he’s still in custody.’
‘Yes, as is his pal, Gerald Means.’
‘Looks like they’re our first port of call.’ I laughed. ‘Get it? First “porty” call.’
‘But they’re Leith Lancers,’ Davie said, playing dumb.
I punched his arm and swallowed a squeal. He was one who should have been called Stalin.
‘You never learn,’ he said, heading to the holding cells.
The two tossers were still in separate residence. We took George Yule first, not least because he’d wet himself yesterday. He didn’t look much more courageous now.
‘Tell me, Jaw,’ I said after I’d sat next to him on the rickety bed, ‘how did you get to be a Lancer? Don’t they have a tough initiation process?’ Tough as in setting fire to potential members’ trousers, making them drink a bottle of whisky in one and getting them to lead an attack on the Pish.
‘Aye,’ he said proudly. ‘I passed it nae problem.’
Davie leaned over him. ‘Did you fuck.’
Jaw swallowed frequently.
‘Muckle Tony was your uncle.’
Nice one, Davie. I hadn’t noticed that in the file.
‘Aye, well …’
‘Aye, well, here’s a question for you,’ I said. ‘Where did you get that van? The report on it says the plates are false, the engine number’s been filed off and the serial number’s from a decommissioned Land Rover.’
‘I dinnae ken anythin’ about that.’
‘Uh-huh. Where did you pick it up? And don’t tell me you dinnae ken. I saw you driving it.’
‘Em, well—’
‘Answer the man right now or I’ll cut your bollocks off!’ Davie roared.
I watched to see if Jaw’s trousers got damp again. They didn’t but it must have been close.
‘It was … it was in Cables Wynd.’
‘In Leith,’ Davie supplied.
‘The key was in the … in the ignition. I was to take it tae the Pleasance and help … and help Ger.’
‘Who told you to do that?’
‘Ger.’
I looked up at Davie.
‘Are you pulling our cocks, sonny?’ he yelled.
‘I … I widnae …’
This time there was evidence of bladder emptying.
‘I believe him,’ I said, getting up quickly.
‘Something else. You work in the Kenilworth Casino, tourists only, yes?’
He nodded, his expression sullen.
‘As a barman, you must have plenty of opportunities to steal booze, cigarettes and so on.’
‘I dinnae dae that. Too dangerous. There’s auxiliaries all over the place.’
‘Any of them take what they shouldn’t?’
Jaw gave Davie a nervous look. ‘Naw,’ he said. ‘They’re all straight as a snooker cue.’
I believed that too. Despite Davie’s louring presence, Jaw Yule would have taken any opportunity to dump on auxiliaries. Unless he was even more scared of them …
Outside, I said to Davie, ‘I don’t think that technique’s going to work with hard man Ger.’
‘Want me to get the pliers?’
‘Might be a good touch.’ As I waited for him, I thought about what we were doing. The Leith Lancers were scumbags who didn’t give a shit for the Council or its regulations. Worse, they didn’t care about their fellow citizens except as sources of income. That didn’t mean torture was right. Then again, neither was dope-trafficking, stealing people’s ration cards, running protection rackets and so on. I wasn’t comfortable that Davie’s blow had led to Yellow Jacko’s death, even though he deserved it for his past misdeeds. Certainly Davie hadn’t lost any sleep over it. That was the difference between him and me.
Davie returned with a pair of pliers that tapered to narrow points. I hoped they would only be a prop.
‘Right, Ger,’ I said as we stormed in. ‘Up against the wall.’
‘Fuck you, Citizen Cocksuck—’
Davie punched him in the midriff. He hit the floor, gasping and retching.
I put a hand on Davie’s arm.
‘As I was saying, right, Ger. This can go like it’s started or it can go easy.’
He was still mouthing abuse, but his voice had gone on holiday.
‘Who are your contacts in the Supply Directorate?’
Davie hauled him up and dumped him on the bed.
‘You heard, you piece of shite. Answer the man or I’ll pull your fingernails out.’ He leaned forward, brandishing the pliers.
Ger tried to laugh, but managed only a smile. Then, quicker than a crow going for a dead lamb’s eye, he pulled Davie’s service knife out of its sheath and cut his own throat.
We both leaped back from the pumping spray.
‘Fuck,’ said Davie.
As we walked away, Jaw Yule called his friend’s name plaintively from down the corridor.
I felt worse than I had for a long time.
‘Jesus, Quint, I never thought he’d do that.’
‘I know, Davie.’ We were on the path outside the guardian’s quarters. ‘Was he so scared by the people he worked with in the Supply Directorate?’
‘Maybe. Or he was just a head-banger who preferred death to years in the mines. He wouldn’t be the first one.’
I nodded and called Guardian Doris. She wasn’t happy but there wasn’t anything she or we could do about it. She asked what we were following up next and I mumbled something about Grant Brown’s fiancée. For some reason I couldn’t explain I didn’t want her to know that we were going after the Housing Directorate foreman.
‘Do you think he’ll still be on site?’ I asked Davie as we headed away.
‘Should be. According to the file, they’re working double shifts. You know how keen the Council is to improve citizen housing.’
There were referendum votes in it – people would vote whichever way the Council recommended if they were in decent flats. That wasn’t a bad plan. Pity they hadn’t thought of it twenty years before.
Slateford is to the south-west of the centre. The flats that were being rebuilt were on Allan Park Crescent, only a few minutes’ walk from the Union Canal. Grant Brown’s headless body could easily have been dumped in the water there. I swore to myself. We should have checked the place out days ago, but the rush of events had distracted me.
‘Is that Hyper-Stun fully charged?’ I asked as we turned into the crescent. I had a bad feeling about this trip. Maybe we should have brought a squad along.
‘Of course,’ Davie said, giving me a disparaging look.
‘Sorry I asked.’ I got out after checking the file. It was still drizzling, which was mild for the Big Wet.
I lifted the safety tape outside the building site and was immediately confronted by a big man in a helmet.
‘Who the hell are you?’
I held up my authorization. ‘Where’s the foreman?’
‘On the second floor.’
I followed Davie, who had his service torch switched on.
Banging, thumping and laughter came from above. We went up the ladders between each floor. The rungs were covered in damp concrete. I wished I’d brought gloves.
‘John Lecky?’ I called.
‘Who’s that?’ came a voice from the far end of the area, where lights glowed and men were at work.
I identified myself. The noise stopped immediately. I picked my way across the planks that had been laid over uncovered beams. Davie’s boots clumped along behind me.
‘I need to talk to you about Grant Brown,’ I said as a short, thin man came towards me. He was wearing a high-visibility jacket and a safety helmet, and carrying a torch.
‘Oh aye? The Guard’s already taken ma statement.’
‘I read it. Brown finished the early shift on the day before his body was found. You saw him leave as you clocked on.’
‘That’s almost right.’
‘What?’
‘My mate Johnnie MacMurdo had to leave early – his kid was sick – so I actually came on at two in the afternoon.’
That hadn’t been noted in the report, suggesting it was either a rush job or a cover-up. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
‘So you saw Brown for the last two hours of his shift.’
‘Aye.’
I became aware that dim figures were gathering around us.
‘Keep your distance,’ Davie said.
‘Fuck you!’ Lecky said as his men came at us, jumping from beam to beam with hammers in their hands.
‘Behind me, Quint,’ Davie said, pulling out his Hyper-Stun and aiming it at our nearest assailant. Lecky had taken a few steps back.
There was a dull phut from the weapon.
‘Shit,’ said Davie, pulling the trigger again. Phut number two.
The workmen started to laugh as they came closer. I realized that Lecky was now holding a hacksaw.
‘Follow me!’ I said to Davie, then jumped through the ceiling between the beams. And the floor of the storey below. I landed with a crash on the ground floor in a cloud of dust, having bent my knees. By the sound of it, Davie made a bigger impression.
‘Get out!’ I yelled, heading for where I thought the door was and thudding into a wall. A hand grabbed my arm and I was dragged out. I jerked my head back and caught the big guy who’d been outside on his chin. He hit the deck.
A body thudded on to the floor in the hall, the man screaming. The torch he’d dropped showed that he was clutching his left leg. Davie had pulled the ladder away.
‘Nice one, big man. Let’s move!’
The dull glow of a streetlight lit our way towards the 4×4. We got in and Davie reversed away, then called for backup.
‘They can get away,’ I said. There were both right and left turns at the end of the road.
‘Not if I disable their van. Hang on!’ Davie drove forward at speed and rammed the Housing Directorate vehicle against the garden wall. The front wheel sustained major damage.
Then there was a crack, a spider web with a white centre appearing on the windscreen.
‘Shit!’ he said, going backwards as fast as he could. ‘Are you all right?’
‘What was that?’
‘Rifle shot, I think, but I’m not sticking my head out to make sure.’
Rounds hit the bonnet and ricocheted off the frame of the windscreen.
Davie reversed further away.
‘Get down!’ he shouted. ‘Who knows how good that laminated glass is?’
We sank down, me making a better job of it than him. The shots gradually tailed off, then stopped altogether.
‘Fuck this,’ Davie said, opening his door. He got out and rolled away from the 4×4. No shot was fired.
A Guard vehicle appeared behind us, lights flashing and siren screaming.
‘Get down there!’ Davie yelled, pointing to the end of the road. He followed them on foot.
I hitched a ride with the second guard 4×4. By the time we got there, Davie and his subordinates were standing by the side of the canal.
‘I’ve sent squads over there,’ he said, ‘but they’ll have to be quick.’
I looked down. There were tools all over the bank, as well as abandoned work belts, but of the hacksaw and the rifle there were no signs at all.
Wouldn’t you know it? The rain came on hard again and what few tracks there were on the other side of the canal were soon obscured. It looked like the builders were heading south, which made sense. They had no future in the city after attacking a Guard commander with a firearm. Shooting at an ordinary citizen like me – Council’s official investigator or not – would only have got them a few years in the mines. Or a pat on the back.
‘I’ve alerted the city-line guards,’ Davie said.
‘We need to get out there anyway,’ I said. ‘Where was it Hume 481 served his stint?’
‘Bonaly Tower.’
‘Which is only about a mile away.’
‘Correct.’ Davie exchanged the keys for his 4×4 for those of another and we headed to the far end of the street.
‘What do you think those bastards were up to?’ I asked as he set off through the southern suburbs, the street lighting becoming sparser as we got further from the centre.
‘I’d say the whole lot of them were in contact with outsiders, maybe the Glasgow Dead Men we heard about.’
I turned over pages in the file that had been provided by the Housing Directorate. ‘None of them were named by Skinny Ewan or Allie Swanson, so we can presume they weren’t linked to the Porty Pish. And none of them lives in the north.’
Davie swerved to avoid a fox that stood motionless in the middle of the potholed road. ‘That doesn’t mean they weren’t working with the Leith Lancers. There aren’t many gangs in the south.’ He laughed. ‘Apart from the Oxgangs Guys.’
‘Not all of whom are male, but they’re all in rehabilitation.’
‘True. But others will have taken their places.’
Oxgangs was only about a mile to the east of where we were heading. Maybe the builders were going there.
Davie had already thought of that, directing a couple of squads to the rundown suburb. Three high-rise blocks of flats had been the centre point of drugs-gang activity after the crisis. Eventually the Public Order Directorate had used the last of its heavy artillery shells against them, leaving only heaps of rubble and dust. The Council wasn’t popular around here, but it had done what it could to relocate citizens. The only people who lived close to the city line now had some reason for doing so. With some it was probably just nostalgia.
Davie pulled up at the headquarters of the Bonaly Guard post. It was in what had been a primary school before the last election. Now it was surrounded in razor wire, with a fifty-foot steel tower at its southern perimeter. The city line had been built on the north side of the old city bypass, which was only passable in very few places, having seen numerous pitched battles in the early years of the Enlightenment. The border of independent Edinburgh was between fifteen and twenty miles further south, encompassing the mines and farms the city depended on, but the guard’s control of that area was much less tight. Smugglers and the like had the run of it if they were careful to avoid the fortified parts.
‘Come on,’ Davie said. ‘I know the commander.’
As it turned out, so did I. What surprised me was that she hadn’t been demoted.