Macbeth

The waiter took his leave.

‘Making the wrong choice can happen to the best of us,’ Duncan said. ‘When did you realise? When you removed his helmet?’

Duff shook his head. ‘Immediately before, when I knelt down beside the body and happened to glance at his bike. It wasn’t Sweno’s bike, the sabre wasn’t there. And the Riders don’t swap bikes.’

‘But they swap helmets?’

Duff shrugged. ‘I should have known. After all, Macbeth and I had just employed the same trick ourselves. Sweno swapped his helmet, and they slowed down enough for us to see his helmet was on one of the Riders going to Forres. He himself went through the tunnel, over the bridge and escaped.’

‘Smart thinking, no doubt about it,’ Duncan said. ‘Shame his people weren’t as smart.’

‘What do you mean?’ Duff asked, looking down at the leather folder with the bill the waiter had placed before him.

‘Why pull guns on the police when they know — as you yourself said — we have no evidence against anyone except Sweno? They could have just allowed themselves to be arrested and left the police station as free men a few hours later.’

Duff shrugged. ‘Perhaps they didn’t believe we were policemen. Perhaps they thought we were Hecate’s men and we were going to kill them.’

‘Or as the chief commissioner says,’ Lennox said, ‘they’re stupid.’

Duncan scratched his chin. ‘How many Norse Riders did we lock up?’

‘Six,’ Duff said. ‘When we returned to the club house it was mainly the seriously injured who were still there.’

‘I didn’t think gangs like the Norse Riders left their injured for the enemy.’

‘They knew they would get medical aid faster. They’re being treated now, but we’re expecting to get more in custody tomorrow. And then they’ll be questioned about Sweno. However much pain they’re in. We’ll find him, sir.’

‘Fine. Four and a half tons of amphetamine. That’s a lot,’ said Duncan.

‘It is indeed.’ Duff smiled.

‘So much that you almost have to ask yourself why you didn’t inform me about the stake-out beforehand.’

‘Time,’ Duff replied quickly. He had weighed up the pros and cons of how to answer the inevitable question. ‘There wasn’t enough time between receiving the tip-off and going into action. As head of the unit I had to assess procedural regulations against the risk of not preventing four and a half tons of amphetamines from reaching the youths in this town.’

Duff met Duncan’s eyes, which were contemplating him. The chief commissioner’s index finger stroked the point of his chin to and fro. Then he moistened his lips.

‘There’s a lot of blood too. A lot of damage to the bridge. The fish in the river are probably already junkies. And Sweno’s still on the loose.’

Duff cursed inwardly. The hypocritical, arrogant fool must be capable of seeing the bigger picture.

‘But,’ said the chief commissioner, ‘six Norse Riders are in custody. And even if we do feel a little more invigorated than usual when eating fish over the next few weeks, better that than the dope ending up in our young people. Or—’ Duncan grabbed his champagne glass ‘—in Seized Goods.’

Lennox and Caithness laughed. It was well known that the HQ warehouse was still unaccountably losing goods.

‘So,’ Duncan said, raising his glass, ‘good police work, Duff.’

Duff blinked twice. His heart beat quickly and lightly. ‘Thank you,’ he said, draining his glass.

Duncan snatched the leather folder. ‘This is on me.’ He took the bill, held it at arm’s length and squinted. ‘Although I can’t see if I’ve been given the right bill.’

‘Who has!’ Lennox said with a stiff smile when no one laughed.

‘Let me,’ Caithness said, taking the bill and putting on her horn-rimmed granny glasses, which Duff knew she didn’t need but wore because she thought they added a couple of years to her age and detracted from her appearance. Duncan had been brave to give Caithness the Forensic Unit. Not because anyone doubted her professional competence — she had been the best cadet at her police college and had also studied chemistry and physics — but she was younger than any of the other unit heads, single and simply too good-looking for suspicion of ulterior motives not to creep in. The candle flames made the water in her laughing eyes behind the glasses, the moisture of her full red lips and the wetness of her shining white teeth sparkle. Duff closed his eyes. The gleaming shine of the tarmac, the sound of tyres on the wet road. The spattering sound. The blood that had splashed to the floor when the man had pulled the dagger from his neck. It was a like a hand squeezing Duff’s chest, and he opened his eyes with a gasp.

‘Everything OK?’ Lennox held a carafe of water over Duff’s glass, and the dregs splashed in. ‘Drink, Duff, so that you can dilute the champagne. You have to drive now.’

‘No question of that,’ Duncan said. ‘I don’t want my heroes arrested for drunk driving or killed on the road. My driver wouldn’t object to a little detour.’

‘Thank you,’ Duff said. ‘But Fife’s—’