A voice at his side asked, ‘Everything all right?’
Steven jumped slightly then swallowed, trying to regain his composure. He turned to find the hotel manager standing there. He hadn’t heard him approach.
‘I saw you there with the bonnet of your car up from the lounge window,’ said the man pleasantly. ‘Would you like me to call the local garage?’
‘No need,’ said Steven. His throat was so dry that his voice came out as a croak. He cleared it and continued, ‘A slight problem with the engine immobiliser. Damn thing’s always playing up.’
‘Security systems cause more trouble than they’re worth,’ said the manager sympathetically. ‘The only people they really inconvenience are their owners and the neighbours. When it’s windy round here it sounds like New Year’s Eve in Times Square.’
Steven smiled weakly. He was in no mood for small talk.
‘Anything I can do?’ asked the manager.
Steven asked if he might borrow some tools. He followed the man back indoors and emerged a few seconds later with electrical pliers and a few small screwdrivers. It didn’t take long to reconnect the ignition system. Luckily it was a simple job, not requiring much in the way of concentration. This was just as well because his mind was on other things.
As a scare tactic, the music box had been a big success. He had to admit that it had been a long time since he’d experienced the real paralysing fear he’d felt when he’d first realised the connection between the music and the ignition switch. The threat had been made and now he was left wondering just how serious it was. Was Sigma 5 really prepared to kill him if he didn’t back out of the investigation at Blackbridge? People working for his own government?
It had been his intention to drive out to Blackbridge early and catch James Binnie before he went off on his rounds. He felt that, as he hadn’t heard from Binnie yesterday, there must be a good chance of something arriving in the post for him this morning from the vet school. In view of what had just happened however, he changed his plans and returned back upstairs to contact Sci-Med. He put in a request for a firearm, the first time he’d ever done such a thing. Such a request would automatically be given priority and he had a reply within ten minutes saying that he could pick up the weapon at Livingston Police Headquarters at his convenience.
Steven drove directly out to Livingston and asked for Brewer. The chief inspector, who was already expecting him, handed over a 9mm automatic pistol, two boxes of ammunition and a Burns Martin shoulder holster, all of which he signed for in triplicate.
‘Not for our pathologist friend, I hope,’ said Brewer.
‘Not for anyone I hope,’ said Steven. ‘I dislike these things as much as you.’ He told Brewer about the incident with his car.
‘Christ!’ exclaimed the policeman. ‘Is no one ever going to tell me just what the fuck is going on my patch?’
‘I’m not keeping you in the dark,’ Steven assured him. ‘I’m in it myself.’ He told Brewer why he had decided not to pursue Levi over the cause-of-death change on the PM report and the policeman nodded. ‘Makes sense, I suppose.’
‘Have you seen him?’ asked Steven.
‘Two weeks sick leave, I understand,’ replied Brewer. ‘Wonder how he’ll square it with his conscience.’
‘I can’t see that being a problem,’ said Steven. ‘The pressure would have been applied along the lines of, doing it for the good of the public, helping to prevent the spread of fear and alarm, giving the authorities a little time to deal with the problem, that sort of seductive crap. He’ll probably end up feeling like a hero who’s saved the nation. Come to think of it there might even be an MBE in it for him come New Year time. Let’s watch this space.’ It would be more than Macmillan was now going to get, Steven thought privately.
Brewer watched while Steven took off his jacket and strapped on the shoulder holster, adjusting it until it felt comfortable. He loaded the gun and slipped it into place, removing and replacing it twice to get the feel of it.
‘Need time on the range?’ asked Brewer.
Steven shook his head. ‘If I need this it’ll be at close quarters and in extreme circumstances. I won’t go scaring the locals. I promise.’
‘But you’re taking the business with your car as a serious warning?’ asked Brewer.
‘Let’s say, I’m not writing it off as a boyish prank.’
‘They — whoever “they” are, obviously know your car and where you’re staying,’ said Brewer.
‘I’ll have to move,’ agreed Steven. ‘And keep moving every couple of days. I’ll change to a rented car too. Maybe you could store mine for me?’
‘I’ll supply you with a pool vehicle if you like,’ suggested Brewer. ‘You can keep changing that too. It means you’ll also have a police radio too. That might come in handy.’
Steven agreed that this was a good idea and accepted Brewer’s offer to arrange it right away. He put his own car down in the police garage and took charge of a dark grey, unmarked Ford Mondeo. He thanked Brewer for his help and offered to buy him lunch, an offer the policeman accepted and the two of them had a bar lunch in a nearby pub. Afterwards, Steven set out for Blackbridge much later than he’d planned. As he feared, James Binnie was not at home when he finally got there but Ann was able to tell him that he had still had no word back yet from the vet school.
‘Maybe these things take more time than I thought,’ said Steven, disappointed at the news.
‘I think James was surprised too when nothing came back this morning,’ said Ann. ‘He’d actually asked a friend of his over there to carry out the examination and told him it was urgent. I think he expected the report back yesterday if truth be told.’
Steven said, ‘Maybe I could give James a ring on his mobile?’
‘Why don’t you come inside and do it,’ said Ann. ‘I’ll make some coffee.’ She disappeared into the kitchen and Steven called Binnie on his mobile. It was answered after the fifth ring and Binnie sounded harassed. ‘Yes? What is it?’
James? It’s Steven Dunbar. I’m sorry to bother you…’
‘Not many people can say they had their arm half way up a cow’s arse when their phone went,’ interrupted Binnie. ‘I’m grateful to you for giving me the opportunity.’
Steven tried not to laugh. He asked about Binnie’s friend at the vet school.
‘Yes, I asked John Sweeney if he’d do it for me; we’ve been friends for years. We were at university together.’
‘Would you mind if I went over there to the vet school and spoke to him personally?’
‘I suppose not,’ replied Binnie after a moment’s thought. ‘That’s probably a good idea. I can’t understand what’s taking him so long.’
‘Okay,’ said Steven lightly. ‘Just thought I’d check with you first.’
‘Thanks a bundle,’ replied Binnie ruefully.
‘You got him then?’ asked Ann Binnie, returning with two mugs of coffee and a plate of biscuits.
‘At a bad moment it seems,’ said Steven.
‘Don’t take it to heart,’ laughed Ann. ‘He gives everyone a hard time when he feels like it. He’s not one for bottling things up, is my Jim. Says what’s on his mind, he does. That’s why we haven’t a friend left in the world.’
Steven looked at her but then saw that she was joking. ‘He’s a pussy cat really,’ said Ann.