Out of control (28 page)

“Exactly. Now I want him to try again so we can nick him – before he succeeds – naturally.”

He took a deep breath and looked at me. His hand went onto my shoulder. I thought I saw what was coming and started to smile. If I was right this was going to be just up my street.

“How do you fancy being the bait with guaranteed back-up from the police supplied by Ross?”

I had guessed right. I grinned.

“Bob, I would be delighted.” The thought of not doing this didn’t even enter my head. “Tell me more.”

“The idea is that you go down to Letham in my car. Maggie and I will go to Heather’s where we’ll be quite safe. We’ll take your car. Just in case he sees you arrive you wear a hat or something so that he doesn’t recognise that it isn’t me. He’ll see the car. He’ll see the house is occupied. He doesn’t know you exist. He’ll naturally assume it’s me.

“Ross will supply two heavies to guard you. We can sneak one into the house and the other can stay next door with Mrs. Clarke constantly in contact. If he turns up we’ve got him for attempted arson or murder or whatever and if he doesn’t there’s no harm done. I’d do it myself but I can’t leave Maggie at the moment. What do you think?”

“I was beginning to think that I hadn’t done very much in this whole caper. I could do with a bit of fun.” I was almost rubbing my hands at the thought of it. 
My mind was already thinking ahead to various aspects of the plan.

“Have you got fire extinguishers in the house?”

“One upstairs and one in the cupboard under the stairs.”

“To be safe I’ll get Doug to get me a flak jacket in case he decides to use a gun. That’s not a problem. Is there enough food in the house so that I don’t need to go out?”

“Enough for three or four days.”

“Has anyone spoken to Mrs. Clarke?”

“Not yet. I’ll do that as soon as I’ve spoken to the police in Cupar.”

I was already planning it out, imagining various scenarios. Now it was my turn. He had done a brilliant job at the meeting. Now I was the one to get a bit of fun.

I reassured him that I was up for it. With police back-up I didn’t really think there would be any danger. But he was right: I’d have to think of an excuse for Sophie. If she got wind of it all hell would break loose. And I didn’t fancy that. I’d rather face a potential killer than an irate French lady on the wrong side of a bad temper.

By the time we got back to the house it was all agreed. Bob called Ross and got the number of an Inspector Mathieson in Cupar who was expecting our call. He had a couple of guys ready he told us – Davis and Logan. One had had special anti-terrorist training he said, and the other was a young lad who played second row for the Howe of Fife rugby team. Sounded alright to me. He asked me to phone him as soon as I got to Letham.

Bob was starting to have doubts again. I told him not to worry. I’d keep in touch. All he had to do was look after Maggie and get the pair of them down to Heather’s in my car.

I didn’t see Maggie because she was still asleep and I told Bob to give her my love when she woke up. He handed me the keys to the house and his neat little Mercedes. I was going to enjoy driving it.

He wished me farewell, trying to be chirpy. “Good luck, keep in touch and don’t scratch the paintwork.” but I could see him in the rear view mirror watching me drive off with a worried look on his face.

I arrived in Letham in the early evening and parked the car in the road outside the house, visible to anyone, and let myself in quickly, jacket hood over my head just in case.

Once inside I drew the curtains and set about planning my defences. I called Mathieson and he told me that Davies and Logan were on their way. They would come in the back over the fields and I’d let them in the back door. Davis was going to stay with me and it had been arranged by phone that, after we’d done all our planning, Logan would nip over the back fence into Mrs. Clarke’s garden and she would let him in.

Inspector Mathieson had told us that they would bring an extra set of protection gear for me so I hadn’t needed to worry about a bullet proof vest.

Before long I heard a discreet knock on the back door. I checked from an upstairs window and, satisfied that it was my expected guests, I went down and let them in. Davis had a large black bag which he dumped on the kitchen table and proceeded to empty out the contents.

I was impressed by them both straight away. Davis knew exactly what he was doing and Logan was a hefty lad. He only stayed long enough to pick up his end of the walkie-talkie and to learn the layout of the house and the front and back gardens. Then he was off next door.

I pulled on the combat gear. I hoped it wasn’t going to be necessary but it didn’t bother me. I’d been in worse situations before and it was actually a nice feeling to be back in harness as it were.

Davis and I felt like a team almost immediately. I showed him where the fire extinguishers were and we agreed that we’d have as many buckets of water as possible standing by as well. He was armed but explained that he couldn’t allow me to be. Against regulations.

The most impressive piece of gear that he’d brought turned out to be a laptop which was connected to a couple of miniature wide-angled cameras which he rigged up to give us coverage of the whole of the small front garden and a good chunk of the back one.

When all was to his satisfaction we sat down in the living room, leaving the door to the kitchen open so that we would hear anyone coming in that way. The screens were beside us and Davis kept an eye on them all the time. I moved around a little as one normally would, going upstairs occasionally to switch a light on and then off a bit later, hoping to give the impression of normal activity.

For an hour or two we played pontoon and I managed to take fifteen quid off him. He’d put it down as expenses he told me.

At about eleven Davis suggested I go to bed and get a bit of rest.

“I’ll sit down here with the lights off as if there’s no one. I’ll wake you at three and you can relieve me for an hour. That’s all I’ll need. I can catch up a bit more sleep during the day.”

“Got all you need?”

“Sure, no problem.”

I took one last look at the monitoring screens – nothing- and went up to bed.

*

It was going to be fire again, just like the attack on the hotel - but this time he had a gun as well.

I was awoken by a yell from Davis.

“Logan. Front door. Go!” as he barked into the transmitter.

Then “Mike! Fire!” and he burst out through the front door into the street.

I took the stairs four at a time, grabbed a bucket of water and threw it onto the flames which were coming from a pile of rags on the floor in the hall. Then I picked up the extinguisher and sprayed the area liberally. I had it out within seconds with no major damage done. As soon as I was sure I ran out of the door to see where they’d gone.

Fifty yards up the road I could see the outline of a man pursued by Davis and with Logan only a couple of paces behind.

“Stop, police,” I heard Davis shout.

The man was either insane or he thought someone was trying to fool him. He stopped, turned and fired. I could see the brief flash of the shot and instinctively hit the ground. I didn’t see exactly what happened but there was another sharp report and when I got up warily I saw the body of the man lying on the ground and Davis and Logan approaching very slowly and carefully, guns in front of them.

“Stay back, Mike” Davis called over his shoulder.

Suddenly the body moved and another shot rang out. Logan fell to the ground with a cry, grasping his leg, but before he hit the ground Davis‘s gun spat out again.

Then there was silence. I ran forward to Logan who was gritting his teeth in pain. “I think I’m ok,” he hissed, “but you’d better get the medics.”

I sprinted back to the house. The fire had been safely put out. Good. Grab the phone. Where the hell’s the number? I found it and alerted the station in Cupar and they promised an ambulance and a back-up car in ten minutes.

That done, I ran back to help Logan into the house. Davis didn’t need any help.

I heard him muttering “Stupid bastard” at the body lying in the road.

By now a few lights had come on and one or two people were peering nervously out of their doors, Mrs. Clarke amongst them. She was horrified that her recent guest had been shot and immediately came in, pushed me out of the way and took charge.

I was still in my combat gear so I looked official. I proceed to go up and down the road - Davis nodded his approval - telling everyone it was all over. More police were on their way and they could all go back to bed. “It’s Macek alright,” he told me. “I‘ve checked his wallet.”

Davis must have been a bloody good shot. He’d got him in the head and blood was oozing onto the road from a hole in his temple.

“Need a blanket or something?”

He nodded. “If you’ve got one. Maybe it would be better.”

I managed to find an old travelling rug in the cupboard under the stairs. By the time I went back out I found it wasn’t needed. The police car had arrived and the area was swiftly cordoned off. A minute later the ambulance arrived.

I left the police to do their job and took the medics inside to Logan. Mrs. Clarke reluctantly gave up her place to them and they swiftly confirmed that he only had a flesh wound.

“There’ll be no lasting damage,” he told me and, turning back to Logan, “But ye’ll be aff the pitch for a few weeks, you stupid bugger, an’ us wi’ a cup match against Kirkcaldy next week.”

I think they knew each other.

Logan was taken away in the ambulance. I cleared up the mess of the fire as best I could and I promised Davis I would come in and make a statement about the events the next afternoon.

The police had called up a second ambulance to remove the body and left. Davis came in and we packed up his gear.

“Thank God you were here,” I told him.

He smiled grimly. “So you think that was the guy that murdered that lass through in Stirling the other week?”

“We’re pretty sure.”

I made him a cup of coffee and I told him what I knew about everything.

When he left it was around five in the morning so I thought I’d leave it for a couple of hours before calling Bob.

Maggie and I must have arrived at the farm about the same time as Mike had arrived in Letham. I borrowed Heather’s mobile and texted messages to Ross telling him where I was and to Mike to confirm our safe arrival. Both sent back simple ‘OK’ acknowledgements.

It had been a quiet journey down. Little was said but there was undoubtedly a strong sense of togetherness as we each thought about what had happened and what it might mean. We had both had a near death experience and that is not an easy thing to come to terms with. Better let the mind and the emotions settle before committing thoughts to words.

Maggie had just dozed or watched the scenery, her hand resting on my knee the whole journey. I squeezed it tenderly when driving conditions permitted.

Heather was wonderfully practical on our arrival.

“Leave everything in the car just now. We’ll see about that later. Maggie, you’re having a quick cup of tea and then a rest upstairs but, before you do, I need you in the kitchen.”

She had a piece of paper and a pencil ready and a short list of clothes. She was going to nip into Stirling and get Maggie kitted out with sufficient clothes for the next few days and she needed sizes. They discussed briefly sizes and preferred colours, added a few comments to the various items and then Maggie went up to rest.

Heather insisted I accompany her on her shopping expedition. On the journey in I had to give a pretty detailed account of what had happened which wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I took the opportunity, however, of suggesting to Heather that she didn’t question Maggie about it.

“She’s lost everything,” I said. “She’s got to come to terms with it in her own time. I think it’s important that we let her choose her moment to talk about it. It’ll probably come out in bits but, for her sake, I think she should be the one to determine the timetable. Can you try to keep away from the topic? If she brings things up, that’s OK, but don’t initiate anything.”

I was careful how I said it because I certainly didn’t want to hurt her feelings but I knew that, if I didn’t say anything, there was always the possibility that she might just pepper her with questions and I didn’t think that was best.

“You think I’m too nosey, don’t you?”

“Well…no... but…” a bit embarrassed.

“Don’t worry. I know I’ve a tendency to want to know everything but I agree with you in this case. We’ll leave her to talk about it as and when she wants.”

Kitted out with jeans, bras, knickers, socks, trainers and tops of various colours, we arrived back at the farm two hours later. It was the first time I had been on a shopping trip with my sister and it had been an exhausting experience. The expedition had been punctuated by quite a considerable number of phrases like ‘I wonder?’, ‘Let’s try next door’, ‘Don’t like that’ and ‘What do you think, Bob?’ and, from me, ‘That’ll do fine’ or ‘Can’t you make up your bloody mind?’

We had a quiet supper. Oliver, being a sterling host, got out a cracking good bottle of red ‘for medicinal purposes’. He and I graciously allowed the girls half a glass each and polished the rest off ourselves. We all turned in early. As I fell asleep I wondered how Mike was getting on…

*

There was a rude awakening at about nine o’clock. Oliver knocked gently on the door and called through that Mike was on the phone. I was up as quickly as I could without disturbing Maggie and by the time I was at the bottom of the stairs I was fully awake.”Wouldn’t say what it was about,” said Oliver, “but he insisted I wake you.”

I grabbed the receiver and slapped it against my ear.

“Is that my big brother?” Chirpy voice meant good news, I thought.

“Yes,” I replied, impatiently. “What’s the news?”

“I’m still alive,” were the words that bounced back down the line, “but that bastard Macek ain’t.”

“Good God, what do you mean?” I slumped down on the chair beside the phone and listened.