‘Good speech, sir,’ Seyton said, who seemed to have no problem keeping up with Macbeth’s pace.
Lennox ran up alongside him.
‘Fantastic, Macbeth!’ he exclaimed, out of breath. ‘There are some journalists here from Capitol to see you. They’d like to interview you and—’
‘Thank you but no,’ Macbeth said without slowing down. ‘No victory interviews, no laurels until we’ve achieved our goal. Any news of Duff?’
‘His car’s been found in the town, parked beside the Obelisk. The roads out of town, the airport, passenger boats — everything has been under surveillance since half an hour after we saw him driving towards the town from Fife, so we know he’s still here somewhere. We’ve checked Banquo’s house, his parents-in-law, and he’s not there. But in this weather a man has to have a roof over his head at night, so we’ll go through every hotel, every boarding house, pub and brothel with a toothcomb. Everyone, absolutely everyone is chasing Duff tonight.’
‘Chasing’s good, catching’s better.’
‘Oh, we’ll catch him. It’s just a question of time.’
‘Good. Could you leave us alone for a minute?’
‘OK.’ Lennox stopped and was soon far behind them.
‘Something bothering you, Seyton? The wound?’
‘No, sir.’ Seyton took his arm out of the sling.
‘No? The sergeant shot you in the arm, didn’t he?’
‘I have unusually good healing tissue,’ Seyton said. ‘It’s in the family.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Good healing tissue?’
‘Family. There’s something else eating you then?’
‘Two things.’
‘Out with it.’
‘The baby we found and removed from the club house after the shooting.’
‘Yes?’
‘I don’t really know what to do with it. I’ve got it locked in my office.’
‘I’ll take care of it,’ Macbeth said. ‘And the other thing?’
‘Angus, sir.’
‘What about him?’
‘He didn’t obey orders in Fife. He refused to fire and in the end left before the op was finished. He called it slaughter. He hadn’t joined SWAT to take part in this kind of thing. I think there’s a risk he might blab. We have to do something.’
They stopped in front of the lift.
Macbeth rubbed his chin. ‘So you think Angus has lost the belief? If so, it won’t be the first time. Has he told you he studied theology?’
‘No, but I can smell it. And he walks about with this bloody ugly cross around his neck.’
‘You’re in charge of SWAT now, Seyton. What do you think should be done?’
‘We have to get rid of him, boss.’
‘Death?’
‘You said yourself we’re at war, sir. In war traitors and cowards are punished with death. We’ll do what we did with Duff: we’ll leak that he’s corrupt and make it look like he resisted arrest.’
‘Let me chew on it. Right now we’re in the spotlight and we need to show loyalty and unity. Cawdor, Malcolm, Duff and now Angus. It’s too many. The town likes dead criminals better than duplicitous policemen. Where is he?’
‘He’s sitting alone moping in the basement. He won’t talk to anyone.’
‘OK. Let me have a chat with him before we make a move.’
Macbeth found Angus in the SWAT common room. He was sitting with his head in his hands and barely reacted when Macbeth put a large shoebox before him on the table and sat down in the chair directly opposite.
‘I heard what happened. How are you?’
No answer.
‘You’re a principled lad, Angus. That’s part of what I like about you. Principles are important to you, aren’t they?’
Angus raised his head and looked at Macbeth with bloodshot eyes.
‘I can see them burning in your eyes right now,’ Macbeth said. ‘Righteous indignation, it warms your heart, doesn’t it? Makes you feel like the person you want to be. But when the brotherhood demands a real sacrifice it’s sometimes exactly that that we want, Angus. Your principles. For you to renounce the cosy warmth of a good conscience, for you to be wakened by the same nightmares as us, for you to give up what is most valuable to you, the way your former god demanded that Abraham give up his son.’
Angus cleared his throat, but his voice was still hoarse. ‘I can give. But for what?’
‘For the long-term goal. For the community’s good. For the town, Angus.’
Angus snorted. ‘Can you explain to me how killing innocent people is for the community’s good?’
‘Twenty-five years ago an American president dropped the atom bomb on two Japanese towns populated by children, civilians and innocents. It stopped a war. That’s the kind of paradox God torments us with.’
‘That’s easy to say. You weren’t there.’
‘I know what it costs, Angus. Recently I cut the throat of an innocent person for the good of the community. I don’t sleep well at night. The doubt, the shame, the sense of guilt, they’re part of the price we have to pay if we really want to do something good and not just bathe in the cosy, safe warmth of self-righteousness.’
‘God doesn’t exist and I’m no president.’
‘That’s correct,’ Macbeth said, taking the lid off the shoebox. ‘But as I’m both in this building I’ll give you a chance to make up for the mistake you made in Fife.’
Angus peeped into the box. And recoiled in his chair in shock.
‘Take this and burn it in the furnace at Estex tonight.’
Angus swallowed, as pale as death. ‘That’s the b-b-baby from the club house...’
‘Front-line soldiers, like you and me, know that innocent lives have to be lost in war, but they don’t know that at home — the people we fight for. That’s why we keep such things hidden from them, so they don’t get hysterical. Do you get hysterical, Angus?’
‘I–I...’
‘Listen. I’m showing my confidence in you by giving you this assignment. You can go to Estex or you can use this to report your brothers here in SWAT. I’m giving you the choice. Because I need to know that I can trust you.’
Angus shook his head, a sob escaped him. ‘You need to make me an accessory to know you can trust me!’
Macbeth shook his head. ‘You’re already an accessory. I only need to know that you’re strong enough to take and carry the guilt without those at home finding out the price we pay to defend them. Only then will I know if you’re a real man, Angus.’
‘You make it sound as if we, and not the child, are the victims. I can’t do it! I’d rather be shot.’
Macbeth looked at Angus. He didn’t feel any anger. Perhaps because he liked Angus. Perhaps because he knew Angus couldn’t hurt them. But mostly because he was sorry for him. Macbeth put the lid back on the shoebox and stood up.
‘Wait,’ Angus said. ‘H-how are you going to punish me?’
‘Oh, you’ll punish yourself,’ Macbeth said. ‘Read what it says on our flag. It’s not the child’s screaming you’ll hear when you wake up sweaty after a nightmare, but the words: Loyalty, fraternity, baptised in fire, united in blood.’
He took the shoebox and left.
There was still more than an hour to midnight when Macbeth let himself into the suite.
Lady was standing by the window with her back to him. The room was sparsely illuminated by a single wax candle, and she was dressed in a nightdress. He put the shoebox on the table under the mirror, went over to her and kissed her neck.