Macbeth

‘Yes, yes, I don’t disagree. Duncan’s a good man.’ Banquo groaned. ‘Naive though. And with this weapon we could clear up and—’

They were interrupted by a tap on the tarpaulin. ‘They’ve started unloading, sir.’ Slight lisp. It was SWAT’s young new sharpshooter, Olafson. Along with the other equally young officer Angus, there were only four of them present, but Macbeth knew that all twenty-five SWAT officers would have said yes to sitting here and freezing with them without a moment’s hesitation.

Macbeth switched off the light, handed it back to Banquo and slid the drawing inside his black SWAT leather jacket. Then he pulled away the tarpaulin and wriggled on his stomach to the edge of the roof.

Banquo crawled up beside him.

In front of them in the floodlights, over the deck of MS Leningrad, hovered a prehistoric-looking military-green lorry.

‘A ZIS-5,’ Banquo whispered.

‘From the war?’

‘Yep. The S stands for Stalin. What do you reckon?’

‘I reckon the Norse Riders have more men than Duff counted on. Sweno’s obviously worried.’

‘Do you think he suspects the police have been tipped off?’

‘He wouldn’t have come if he did. He’s afraid of Hecate. He knows Hecate has bigger ears and eyes than us.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘We wait and watch. Duff might be able to pull this off on his own. In which case, we don’t go in.’

‘Do you mean to say you’ve dragged these kids out here in the middle of the night to sit and watch ?’

Macbeth chortled. ‘It was voluntary, and I did say it might be boring.’

Banquo shook his head. ‘You’ve got too much free time, Macbeth. You should get yourself a family.’

Macbeth raised his hands. His smile lit up the beard on his broad dark face. ‘You and the boys are my family, Banquo. What else do I need?’

Olafson and Angus chuckled happily behind them.

‘When’s the boy going to grow up?’ Banquo mumbled in desperation and wiped water off the sights of his Remington 700 rifle.

Bonus had the town at his feet. The glass pane in front of him went from floor to ceiling, and without the low cloud cover he would have had a view of absolutely the whole town. He held out his champagne glass, and one of the two young boys in riding jodhpurs and white gloves rushed over and recharged it. He should drink less, he knew that. The champagne was expensive, but it wasn’t him paying. The doctor had said a man of his age should begin to think about his lifestyle. But it was so good. Yes, it was as simple as that. It was so good. Just like oysters and crawfish tails. The soft, deep chair. And the young boys. Not that he had access to them. On the other hand, he hadn’t asked.

He had been picked up from reception at the Obelisk and taken to the penthouse suite on the top floor with a view of the harbour on one side and the central station, Workers’ Square and Inverness Casino on the other. Bonus had been received by the great man with the soft cheeks, the friendly smile, the dark wavy hair and the cold eyes. The man who was called Hecate. Or the Invisible Hand. Invisible, as very few people had ever seen him. The Hand, as most people in the town over the last ten years had been affected in some way or other by his activities. That is, his product. A synthetic drug he manufactured himself called brew. Which, according to Bonus’ rough estimate, had made Hecate one of the town’s four richest men.

Hecate turned away from the telescope on the stand by the window. ‘It’s difficult to see clearly in this rain,’ he said, pulling at the braces of his own jodhpurs, and took a pipe from the tweed jacket hanging over the back of the chair. If he’d known that they would turn out dressed as an English hunting party he would have chosen something other than a boring everyday suit, Bonus thought.

‘But the crane’s working, so that means they’re unloading. Are they feeding you properly, Bonus?’

‘Excellent food,’ Bonus said, sipping his champagne. ‘But I have to confess I’m a little unsure what it is we’re celebrating. And why I’m entitled to be here.’

Hecate laughed and raised his walking stick, pointing to the window. ‘We’re celebrating the view, my dear flounder. As a seabed fish you’ve only seen the belly of the world.’

Bonus smiled. It would never have occurred to him to object to the way Hecate addressed him. The great man had too much power to do good things for him. And less good.

‘The world is more beautiful from up here,’ Hecate continued. ‘Not more real but more beautiful. And then we’re celebrating this, of course.’ The stick pointed to the harbour.

‘And this is?’

‘The biggest single stash ever smuggled in, dear Bonus. Four and a half tons of pure amphetamine. Sweno has invested everything the club owns plus a little more. What you see below is a man who has put all his eggs in one basket.’

‘Why would he do that?’