‘I think so. I’m taking her to Glasgow tomorrow for the uni open day, give you some peace. She needs focus and direction. Get her cleaning the B&B bathrooms when we get back. I want her to realise that will be her life if she doesn’t stay out of trouble and get some qualifications.’ Shona massaged her tired eyes with her fingers and shook her head. ‘I understand why she did it, but…’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘God. It’s like looking in a mirror sometimes.’
Rob raised an eyebrow. ‘You can say that again.’ He got up and kissed the top of her head, then placed the ham sandwich he’d made while she was upstairs on the table. ‘Have some pity for me, darlin’. I get it in stereo.’
* * *
DCI Gavin Baird and Kenny Hanlon were finishing a bottle of chilled Louis Latour in the upstairs bar of a fashionable restaurant in Glasgow’s Ashton Lane. They looked the part: a respectable Wednesday business lunch. Hanlon was soberly dressed in dark jeans and a sports jacket. If any fellow patrons recognised his celebrity status, they were cool enough to ignore him.
Baird was preparing to leave when Evan Campbell, one of Hanlon’s trusted associates, pulled up a chair and joined them. At the STAC launch, Baird had watched Campbell tour the room like a heat-seeking missile, homing in on any information he could exploit. He had a reputation for clearing obstacles, making problems go away. His targets, initially uncertain, quickly recognised a top predator. These flaccid businessmen saw how they stood to benefit from a kill, if only they could avoid being devoured themselves.
Today Campbell was charming, groomed and fashionably dressed in a grey flannel three-piece suit. Smiling, he loo
ked harmless, but in repose the skull-like face was chilling. It was like meeting death in Armani. Baird loathed him but, like the businessmen, he knew how much he could gain from this man.
Evan clutched Hanlon’s offered hand in both his own, greeting him with the reverence of a Medici pope. Baird wouldn’t have been surprised if Campbell had leaned forward and kissed his ring. Hanlon made a sad face. ‘Gav is just leaving, what a shame. I’m sure he’d loved an update on the STAC issues we were discussing. Shall we order another bottle?’
The bar was filling up. Parents and teenagers from the Glasgow University open day had filed down the hill to the bars and cafes of the West End in search of refreshment. Baird shook his head and tapped his watch. ‘Nicola has plans.’
Campbell nodded his understanding. ‘Can’t stop either, Mr Hanlon. Just popped over to say hello.’ He tapped Baird’s shoulder. ‘Nice to see you too, Gavin. Here, I’ll walk you out.’
Baird led the way. The stairs down to the street were narrow and dimly lit, with a sharp right-hand turn. They were halfway down when Campbell lunged forward, pushing Baird from behind. Baird tumbled down the remaining stairs, his face slamming against the tiled floor of the lobby. Stars bloomed before his eyes. The vignetting of his vision suggested a direct hit on the bridge of his nose.
‘You going soft on us?’ Campbell dragged him upright, growling in his ear. ‘The Big Man willnae like it if you are. We’ve all got too much invested in the proper outcome to see it go tits up now. Solve the problem or I’ll do it for you.’
He dusted Baird off as two teenage girls came down the stairs. ‘Watch your step there, fella.’ He gave the girls a charming smile, rolling his eyes at the pal who couldn’t hold his drink. They giggled, squeezing past. Campbell pulled a still groggy Baird outside and propped him up in the shadow of the bar’s awning.
Baird blinked, the lane swimming into view through involuntary tears. If he tried to arrest Campbell the man would claim Baird had tripped. Drink had been taken, conclusions would be drawn.
‘Well, well. That’s a coincidence,’ Campbell said in a low voice. ‘What a pretty pair they make, don’t you think?’ Baird screwed his eyes up, trying to follow Campbell’s gaze. Then, just as he was seized by the arm, Baird glimpsed DI Shona Oliver, with a girl who could only be her daughter, coming towards him through the crowd. Campbell marched him quickly along the bustling lane in the opposite direction and out of sight.
* * *
Shona woke to the Sunday morning call of gulls across the Solway Firth. Thursday, Friday and Saturday had passed with frustratingly slow progress with both the baby milk case and the deaths of Isla and Sami Raseem. Tomorrow she’d have to make some hard decisions. To do that she needed to clear her head.
Rob had opened one of the full-length windows opposite their bed and the gauze curtains stirred in the faintest autumn breeze. Below, the polished silver of Kirkness estuary was marked by a single fishing boat drawing a plough-mark across its surface. Shona sat up and watched the boat’s progress. Jimmy Hunter’s Orion, out after some sea trout. She knew most of the local craft on sight now. She checked again that her RNLI pager was switched on. She was overcome by the urge to step off the land, let the sway of the sea dissolve away the tensions of her everyday life.
She dressed quickly and went downstairs to the kitchen. Rob and Becca were somewhere below on the guest level, holding a conversation that consisted of shouting to each other from different rooms above the sound of a vacuum. She left a note to say she’d be at the lifeboat station and slipped out the back door.
Coxswain Tommy McCall gave Shona the helm as they put the Margaret Wilson through her paces out on the firth. Then Shona coached a new recruit as he practised recovering 50 m of rope with a 15 kg weight attached in under 90 seconds, a test he needed to pass before his training could progress. The last of the season’s holidaymakers lined up to cheer him on. The crowd broke into a spontaneous round of applause when, on the third attempt, Shona declared the recruit had done it. Tommy came out with the donations bucket and worked the crowd, who gave generously and felt they’d had their money’s worth.
Shona spotted Becca in a small group gathered round Callum in the boat bay of the lifeboat station. He was giving a talk on the night bag, a satchel-sized extra loaded for shouts after dark, with extra flares. Becca was looking at the handsome village postman with a shy smile and rapt attention. If Becca ever showed any interest in joining the lifeboat, the RNLI wouldn’t have her mother to thank for their latest recruit. When Becca spotted her approaching, her shoulders resumed their habitual slump and she scowled. ‘Dad sent me to find you. Dinner’s ready.’
Shona returned home with Becca, exhausted but renewed, to a family meal where Rob made them laugh with stories of his most eccentric university friends. He’d had a couple of trips to Glasgow since reconnecting with former fellow students at the STAC reception and had a potential investor for his restaurant idea. It was decided that their daughter would spend the remaining days of her exclusion from school helping Rob and both seemed happy with the prospect. Shona was just going to bed when Baird’s name flashed up on her phone. What was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning? She felt a cloud pass across her sunny evening. She was tempted to decline it, but she’d only lie awake wondering what he wanted.
‘Shona? Just a courtesy call, really. I’m about to make the final arrest on Op Fortress.’
Shona thought he sounded a little drunk. ‘That’s good news, sir.’
There was a pause. ‘You know, if you crack the baby milk thefts, keep the local business community happy, you could be in line for my job. No one really cares about the deaths of a drug-addicted prostitute and an asylum seeker, it’s giving the area a bad name. Tie the enquiries up now.’ He paused again, breathing heavily down the phone. ‘Trust me, Shona, it’s best for everyone if you do.’
Chapter 18
On Monday morning, Shona pulled into the car park at Cornwall Mount HQ just before seven. She wanted an hour or so alone in the office before the team arrived, to gather her thoughts and plan a revised strategy. Dan Ridley’s name lit up her phone screen.
‘Morning Dan, how are you? Listen, I’m just having a wee think about our next move and I need to check some intel. Can I get back to you mid-morning?’
‘I’ve got him,’ Dan said, excitement bubbling in his voice. ‘Your baby milk thief. I’ve got him.’
‘What?’ She grabbed her handbag. The driver’s door flew open. ‘Start from the beginning.’ She clicked the electronic key fob over her shoulder as she hurried towards the building.