They all stared into the darkness.
“I thought we got your man. Who was that?”
“I don’t know, but he’s killed you dog handler right?”
“How did he get the dog to go after he killed his handler” was all the detective could say “they live together. They’re practically psychically linked.”
The detective looked back to the train. A body in white underwear was being lifted off the train.” An officer joined him running to his side.
“Mickey’s dead, shot through the heart and we found this.” He held up a needle.
“He gave the dog a shot of something, LSD or some such. It’s a historically documented way of dealing with watch dogs, not just drugging to sleep, but sending crazy, making them a nuisance not a help, buggering up their senses.” McKie spoke quietly not taking his eyes of the darkness in front of him.
“What kind of psycho would do that?”
“A well trained one and one who came equipped for just such an eventuality.”
“My god and there are three more out there.”
“We’d better get some lights and search that track. You better get a helicopter or two searching this area.”
Beaumont was suddenly by his side.
“What’s going on?”
“It could just be a coincidence, but I don’t believe in them. There was a second one on the train.”
Beaumont looked down the track and back at the train.
“Let’s leave the police to sort this out. The press will be here soon, TV included and we don’t want to be seen. There’s a guy called John McFarlane, he’s DIC Perth for the area round here. Jack gave me his number. I called. He’s just four streets from here. Let’s get our bags and go.”
David stared down the track.
“David!”
“Sorry. There’s a dead dog on that track down there.”
“Okay. Put the gun away.”
“Artillery and ships have guns, this is a pistol.”
“What?”
“It’s what you’re told by an army dad when you were playing soldiers.”
“I see. I need a drink.”
Overhead two helicopters chattered onto the scene, hovering, one with a spotlight, the other using thermal imaging. Armed police moved forward, more dogs arrived and torches slashed at the darkness.
Back up the platform McKie and Beaumont passed the two covered corpses.
Half a mile away, having crossed South Inch Park at a sprint, Stanton squatted by the river, his pistol wrapped in a plastic bag, he waded in and swam down river towards the motorway, a map of the town in his head. His target was the M90 motorway to hitch lift.
TV crews and journalists flooded the town centre as Beaumont knocked on a black door on Wilson Street. It had been a short walk for the two DIC men, but David, couldn’t keep his hand from dipping into his jacket; every shadow and recess held the unnerving spectre of the second assassin.
When John McFarlane finally shuffled to the door, his Scottie dog barking shrilly, McKie couldn’t help but imagine the door being answered by the escaped hired killer. Beaumont showed his badge. John let them in. He bolted the door and put the chain on.
He looked into their tired faces and David’s ‘jungle ready’ eyes.
“You two look like you need a whisky. Have a seat.” He waved them into the lounge. BBC 24 was on the screen and straight away they saw the scene they had just left.
Chapter 39
London
Hampstead
Midnight
A tangle of bed ruffled long blonde hair spilled out across the top of a thick plush purple duvet cover. As the phone rang Sternway’s head surfaced from the undulating silk waves and the blonde hair sank beneath them with a groan.
“Yes.”
Stella curled up foetal dreading the not unknown night phone calls. Sternway listened to the voice on the line, put the phone down, unfolded himself from the bed and donning dressing gown and slippers descended first to his kitchen, putting the kettle on, and second to his lounge, flicking the television on with the remote. He flipped through the sky guide with practised ease and found his way to BBC News 24.
Having made a cup of tea he sat down on the mahogany brown leather sofa, put his feet up on the pouf and took reflective sip of tea. It was just after midnight.
On the screen he watched the unfolding drama of the post shooting scene at Perth.
“What exactly are the authorities saying Tom.”
The journalist, outside the station, flashing blue lights behind him, drizzle sparkling in the haze, paused to hear the satellite delayed question.
“It seems that there was an organised trap for as yet unknown assailants on the train. The train was stopped and armed police were waiting. The train was being emptied when it seems one of the wanted men got onto the track and there was a shoot out with police. He was killed by the police. His partner it seems was hidden on the train and killed a dog handler; the dog was drugged and the second man, disguised as the dog handler, fled up the platform, shooting the dog just out of sight of the station. Police helicopters have been searching over head and the police are checking the river, which is just over that way the other side of South Inch Park.”
“Was anyone else hurt Tom.”
“It seems not. The passengers have been taken on in coaches and Scotrail staff members are now at a nearby hotel waiting to be interviewed.”
“Is there any indication of who these men were?”
“Not yet, but we are expecting a statement from the chief constable sometime soon.”
The view returned to the studio with the insert of the scene top right.
“Tom Harris there at the scene of a police shooting Perth Railway Station and other breaking news tonight is that of a double murder at the Mersey marina. Police called there apparently by security services found two bodies, one of them is thought to be the night watchman.”
Sternway turned off the TV. He picked up the phone. Thirty metres away in the next door garden an uncomfortable DIC operative listened carefully, glancing around nervously, the gun mike signal coming and going. They couldn’t tap Sternway’s phone for sure.
“Do you know who was shot Joe?”
“Our reports say it was Marco Spencer.”
“That’s embarrassing one of our ex operatives.”
“Yes.”
“What about this Marina business?”
“It looks like a DIC operative has been murdered.”
“These men are leaving a lot of bodies behind.”
“Yes sir.”
“Still DIC look like they’re being put to the test and I can’t say that makes me unhappy.”
“No sir.”
“Okay I’ll see you first thing and you can brief me properly.”
In the bushes the cold and hungry DIC operative sighed heavily. It was teasingly close to Sternway showing knowledge, but vague enough for it to be a natural interest on Sternway’s part in terrorist activities in the UK.
Chapter 40
Liverpool
Midnight
In Wally’s living room there was uncomfortable silence. Tony was in the loft sending and receiving transmissions. Down in the lounge Ginny, red eyed and exhausted was hugging a weeping and sobbing Tara. Jaz was outside in the garden smoking a cigarette with Ginny’s father, who had been called over for moral support. In the kitchen Shadz was making tea with Ginny’s mother.
“You look a bit fit to be a smoker if you don’t mind me saying so.”
Jaz gave him a weak smile and said “I gave up ages ago. It’s been a shock tonight.”
“I can imagine. I didn’t know he did this kind of work.”
“You’re not meant to.”
“Ginny knew he did this then?”
“Yes, but partners and spouses sign the act too, though they don’t know exactly who their partners are working for, it’s very secret.”
“Does your partner know what you do?”
“Yes she does.”
“Oh sorry.”
“No need to be unless you had plans.”