He laughed. 'Practical to the end, that's the boss. I remember him saying, "the Royal Infirmary's right next door". Funnily enough, that was the thing that made me feel better.'
'You went through that,' said Neville, 'yet here you are in SB, carrying a gun and waiting for a bad guy? Couldn't you have asked for a uniform job?'
'Sure I could. But if I had, then that bullet would have taken more out of me than blood and a bit of lung tissue. I have to do the job the way I've always done it, for my sake; but that doesn't mean that I have to relish it.'
'Don't you worry about…' She hesitated. 'Should I worry?'
McGuire read her thoughts. 'Should you be worried in case the action starts and I freeze up?' he asked. 'No way, Karen. One thing getting shot does for you; it makes you very keen not to get shot again. Freeze, and that's what's going to happen.'
'Have you ever shot anyone?' she asked, quietly.
'I don't know, to tell you the truth. We were all blazing away that night. I might have hit the guy, I suppose, but I don't think so.'
'Has anyone else on the team?'
'That's not a question you should ask. Those who have don't like to talk about it. But since you have asked it… Andy Martin and Brian Mackie have. They got the guy who shot me. The boss has too. He put another guy down that night in the hall. Andy had to do it another time as well… and don't, in your daftest moment, ever ask him about that. Oh aye, and so did Brian.'
'Brian Mackie?' Neville's surprise burst from her.
'Aye, the Thin Man; never batted an eyelid either. He's the best shot on' His eyes narrowed as he looked in the mirror. 'Hold on. A red car just came round the bend in the distance.'
The sergeant turned to look out of the rear window. 'Yes. I see it. A silver car, then a green one, then red. It looks like a Vauxhall too.'
'Okay, look this way now. Don't give the driver any idea that we might be waiting for him. Eat your apple or something.' Quickly, from a pocket in the driver's door, he took two miniature football boots, joined by a white cord and slung them round the rear view mirror. 'Some of the lads take the piss out of me about my theory, but I can't think of a better way of disguising an unmarked car. Could you imagine a cop wagon with windscreen ornaments?'
'How about a nodding dog on the back shelf?' Karen suggested, dryly.
'Nah, nae use. The bad guys might think it was Mcllhenney.'
'Don't you knock Neil. I think he's nice.'
'I'm allowed to knock him. He's my best pal.' He glanced in the side mirror, as he tugged the ring-pull to open a can of Pepsi and raised it to his lips. 'This is the guy all right.' He drank from the tin as the red car swept past. 'Delta Echo Whisky 4357,' he read, switching on the engine of his Nissan as he spoke. 'Get ready.'
Less than thirty seconds later, the rear off-side door of the car was jerked open and a man slid quickly into the back seat. 'Hello Joe,' said McGuire. 'This is Karen Neville.' He handed the can of Pepsi to the newcomer. 'Finish that for me.'
Slipping into first gear, he slid from his parking place on the verge and moved smoothly into traffic, behind a blue Volkswagen. Ahead of them, the red Vauxhall took a left turn at the junction. 'Heading for Penicuik,' the inspector muttered. 'Okay, Joe. Tell us all about it.'
'Haud on a minute, son,' the veteran, grizzled Detective Inspector Impey grunted, breathing heavily from his short sprint to McGuire's car. 'I need this.' He raised the Pepsi and threw his head back, emptying the can in a single swallow. 'Hah, that's better.
'Right, about our man.' He tapped his colleague on the shoulder.
'Don't get too close now, Mario.'
'Teach your Granny,' the other man growled.
'Dinna be so touchy. Here, son, I don't think your boss likes me.'
'Joe, there'll be someone else doesn't like you if you don't get to the bloody point!'
'Aye, okay, okay. This is the wey it happened. We were watching the Irish ferry coming into dock at Craigryan, lookin' at the folk through binoculars, like. All of a sudden. Ah sees this bloke. He's a dead ringer for one of those photofits that your boss gave us. Ginger hair, big thick moustache. You ken the one ah mean.
'Then, while I'm watching him, he gets up and walked across the deck, and he's got a limp. Ah'm really interested then.' He paused.
'Got ony mair Pepsi?' Neville reached into her bag and handed him a can. 'Thanks, hen,' said Impey as he opened it. The sergeant fought off an urge to make clucking noises.
'Normally we give a' the cars coming off the ferry a quick once over, looking for familiar faces from the circulation list. Things might be quieter in Ireland these days, but old habits die hard, like. My oppo was up the ramp, and I was at the exit with a uniformed polis. It was fine till we got taste this bloke. He takes a look at the uniform coming towards him, shouted something at him and put his foot down. Ah didnae have time to wait for my oppo. My car was handy, so I jumped in it and got after him.'
'Why would someone like Hawkins panic at a police ferry check?'
Neville asked casually.
'How the bloody hell would I know, hen?' Impey snapped at her, then turned once more to look at the back of McGuire's head. 'I couldnae be sure where he was going until he turned off the A74 for Moffat. That was when I phoned Mcllhenney, only he wisnae in, so I phoned your boss.'
'He told me,' muttered McGuire, as he drove into the centre of Penicuik. 'I don't suppose you called anyone to ask for a number trace.'
'Naw,' Impey replied. 'Ah was concentrating on the subject, wasn't Ah.'
'That's okay, for we did. Our man's driving a hired car. We're trying to dig up someone in Eurodollar to give us the hirer's details. Bugger.'
He swore softly as the traffic lights in the middle of the small Midlothian town turned to amber. As he watched, helplessly trapped behind two other vehicles, their quarry hit the accelerator and shot across the junction.
'Pull out and go through,' Impey urged.
'Don't be daft, Joe. If he looked back and saw me do that, he'd rumble us for sure — if he hasn't already that is. Patience, man, he's got traffic in front of him; we'll catch him up.'
Like a watched kettle, the lights seemed to take forever to change, but eventually the three police officers resumed their pursuit. For a time it seemed that McGuire's confidence had been misplaced, as they found themselves trapped behind two articulated lorries which had pulled out of a small industrial estate just beyond the town centre.
They had reached Glencorse Barracks before the road cleared far enough ahead to allow overtaking, but once they had passed the obstruction, the inspector was able to put his foot down.
They were nearing a stretch of dual carriageway, when Neville pointed to a coach less than two hundred yards in front of them. 'I think he's in front of that bus. I caught a flash of red just then.'As if to prove her right, the red Vauxhall pulled into the overtaking lane of the widened roadway and speeded up. McGuire accelerated steadily, keeping pace with it but being careful not to be drawn too close.
Their target led them down the straight road towards Edinburgh, reaching, after five minutes, the double roundabout of the Straiten junction with the city bypass. At the second of the huge islands, the suspected Hawkins indicated right and swung off the Edinburgh road, heading eastwards.
'Why are we going this way, I wonder?' McGuire mused aloud.
'He's heading away from the posh end of the city.'
'Maybe he's going south?' Impey suggested.
'Maybe, but I doubt it, Joe. If he was heading, say for Berwick, he'd have taken another route. Unless, of course, he spotted us way back and he's been pulling our chains ever since. We'll find out when we get to the end of the bypass.'
'How's that, like?'
'Because if he heads for Leith, he's probably close to his destination.
If he heads down the Al, then he's taking the piss and I'm going t have him. You got your firearm handy?'