Pilgrim Soul (36 page)

The clanging of the cell door shot me upright.

‘Colonel Brodie. Mr McRae. You can go now.’

A fresh-faced USAF lieutenant was standing at the cell door. He was holding it open. Danny and I struggled to our feet. I felt like death. Danny looked like it. I walked over to the sink and slunged some water on my face, feeling the coarse bristles grate and scratch. I wet my hair and brushed it back with my hands. While I was putting on my uniform shirt and tie, and lacing my shoes, Danny went through the same performance. Unshaven, but with some semblance of smartness, we walked out of the cell into the harsh corridor lights. We followed the lieutenant. As we passed our Marine captors I looked for some remorse in their faces but saw only blankness. But that’s Marines for you.

We were taken back to Salinger’s office. He wasn’t there. Sam was. She had the long-suffering look of a mother whose kids had gone off the rails again. Summoned to the local nick to get another ticking off from the desk sergeant.

‘Morning,
gentlemen
. Do you know I’ve been up half the night worried about you? I’ve been moving heaven and earth – not to mention several tons of snow – to find you?’

‘Sam, I’m sorry. It got – we got—’

‘Waylaid? That’s for sure.’

‘Where’s Salinger?’

Sam looked behind us at the young officer.

‘Sir! Major Salinger took the evening flight.’

‘To where?’

‘London, sir. Our embassy. He’ll be there by now.’

I faced Sam. ‘How did you get us out?’

‘In case it slipped your mind,
Colonel
Brodie, I’m an advocate. I phoned the Procurator Fiscal at five o’clock. He was very grumpy. But he made some calls. And I phoned Iain. He’s ahead of us in Hamburg. The wires have been buzzing between him and certain government departments. Anyway, strings were pulled and here you are. Here
we
are. I hope it was worth it?’

‘Let’s get out of here and we’ll talk. How did you get here?’

‘I drove. The coast route. It’s just been opened.’

‘Good grief, Sam. In the dark? With the snow and ice?’

‘I’m not a daft wee lassie, Brodie.’

‘No, you’re not, Samantha Campbell. No, you’re not. Shall we go?’

She’d had enough driving and put me behind the wheel with Danny bundled in the back. We headed straight north, following the Ayrshire coast up through Irvine, Saltcoats and Ardrossan. The sea churned grey and white on our left, dashing itself in spume and spray on the black rocks. Our windscreen blades kept sticking with the weight of new snow, and we had to get out and clear them.

‘Do you think summer will ever return, Sam?’

‘Nup. This is it. We’ve been bad and God is punishing us.’

I told her how little we’d got from Salinger and what a wasted journey we’d all had.

‘It’s not a waste, Brodie. You’ve just got rid of the controller of this end of the Scottish rat line. He’s been hauled off to London. He won’t be back. How can you dismiss that?’

‘He’s out of our reach now. That’s how. And we know little more about who his local operators are or how to find them.’

We fell out of the car at Sam’s, groaning with stiffness. The house was a cold shell and the three of us huddled in our coats until we’d got a fire going in the kitchen. We took turns thawing out limbs in front of it while sipping hot toddies.

Later, I was sitting on my bed, wrapped in my quilt, thinking through the consequences of my actions. I had no doubt the wires would be buzzing between Whitehall and Washington. I was probably facing a court martial for threatening an allied officer.

Sam slipped in to join me. She took a side of the quilt and we huddled together. It was a timely moment.

‘Sam, you know what a cynical, suspicious old sod I can be?’

‘Only too well. In my experience, it’s what gets you into – and out of – trouble.’

‘Right then, hear me out and then I’ll ask you to do a couple of things for me. Unless you think I’ve completely lost my bearings . . . or my marbles.’

FIFTY-SIX

Saturday morning began with racing engines, banging car doors and shouting. It didn’t sound like a neighbourhood party. When I looked at my watch, it said six o’clock. Sam had gone back to her own room.

The sounds were somehow familiar. As I dragged myself up and over to the window, banging started on the front door. I keeked out to see a police car and two canvas-topped lorries slewed across the snow-clad road and soldiers running forward and taking up positions. American soldiers. Four went down on their knees, rifles to their shoulders, aiming at our front door and windows. They saw me and instantly raised their aim. Several wore MPs’ helmets, the rest were Marines. The banging got louder, and then a loudhailer started up. The voice was American.

‘Colonel Douglas Brodie, you will come out with your hands up. We are acting under orders from your government.’

There was a pause and another voice took over. I knew it.

‘You heard, Brodie. Come out before they come in for you. No guns.’

I pulled back the curtains and threw up the window. I stuck my head out. ‘Sangster, if you don’t shut up, I’ll call the police and get them to remove you for disturbing the peace.’

‘Oh aye, very funny, Brodie. But you’ll no’ be laughing in a minute when I send these boys in. By the way, there’s more of them roon’ the back.’

‘This is total bullshit, Sangster. American troops have no right whatsoever to be threatening British citizens. Whose authority?’ Just then another black uniform walked forward.

‘That would be
my
authority, Colonel,’ said Chief Constable Malcolm McCulloch.

I gazed down at him, wondering whom I could trust any more. ‘I thought we were on the same side, Malcolm? OK, here’s what’ll happen. You will give me, Miss Campbell and Mr McRae ten minutes to get dressed. Then we will invite you, Chief Constable, to join us for a wee chat so we can sort out what seems to be a gross misunderstanding.’

McCulloch joined the American officer – a lieutenant of Marines – and together with Sangster had a heated conversation.

McCulloch turned and looked up at me. ‘Brodie, you have no idea how serious this is. We will give you
five
minutes; then you will open the door and let me and Lieutenant Osborne here come in. We will be joined by two armed Marines. We know you have guns. If there is any sign of you using them, the Marines are ordered to open fire. Is that clear?’

‘Ten minutes and we’ll put the kettle on.’

He paused for a beat, looking over to the Marine officer. He nodded. Reluctantly.

‘Ten minutes. No tricks or, as sure as I’m standing here, these boys will come in shooting. Is that clear?’

Behind me, I could hear doors banging; then Sam and Danny burst into my room. I leaned out the window and called out, ‘Clear.’

I slammed the window down and turned to the ashen-faced Sam and the red-faced McRae.

‘This must be about Salinger. Let’s get dressed and find out. Sam, is there someone you can call? Someone very senior?’ She nodded.

‘Danny, if you so much as think about drawing a gun I will personally blow your head off. Are we clear?’ He nodded.

They dispersed to their rooms. I dressed hurriedly. In the circumstance I thought I might as well meet uniform with uniform and pulled on my khaki. I put my .38 in my bedside table and unclipped my holster to show it was empty. I met the other two in the hall. Sam was on the phone, talking fast. She finished. I glanced at my watch. One minute to go.

‘I got the Procurator Fiscal. Again. He and I used to get on like a house on fire. Until two days ago. Nevertheless he’s on his way. I don’t know if he’s more angry with you or the Americans.’

‘Well done, Sam. Shall we meet in the dining room?’

They nodded and I started unbolting the door. The guns and uniforms were waiting. I stepped forward and stood foursquare on the doorstep. I stared straight at the bullnecked young Marine officer whose pistol pointed at my stomach.

‘Lieutenant Osborne. Don’t you normally salute a senior officer?’ Before he could react, I turned to McCulloch. ‘Chief Constable, if you’d like to follow me, the owner of this house,
Advocate
Samantha Campbell, will receive you in the dining room. Mr McRae and Miss Campbell are already waiting for you. Wipe your feet. This had better be good, gentlemen.’

The lieutenant was red-faced with the internal conflict between saluting me or shooting me. I simply turned smartly on my heel and marched down the hall towards the dining room, feeling my shoulders twitching. Behind, there was a scuffling, then a rush of footsteps. The lieutenant ordered his men to take up position in the hall. The door was open and Danny and Sam were standing at the far end of the table, near the window. I walked over and joined them. We faced the visitors. McCulloch came in first, followed by the officer, then Sangster. Two armed Marines crowded at the door, unsure of where to point their weapons.

‘Lieutenant, please note I am unarmed.’ I showed him my empty holster. ‘Can you please lower your weapons and ask your men to step back into the hall? We can then sit and have a civilised discussion.’ I waited. The officer’s jaw clenched so tight I thought it would snap.

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Lieutenant, put your guns away,’ said McCulloch.

‘Sir, no, sir! Due respect, sir! I have orders to search the house.’

Sam walked round the table and faced the young officer. She had on her icy-cool face. I almost felt sorry for the boy.

‘Lieutenant, this is
my
house. You are on private property. In Scotland, not Tennessee. Please put your gun down.’

Slowly, under her unswerving blue gaze, he lowered his gun to his side.

‘Thank you. Now, before you move another inch, I want to see warrants and written orders from someone very senior indeed. Preferably with a royal seal. I’ve already summoned the Glasgow Procurator Fiscal. He’ll be here shortly. As you should know, Chief Constable – assuming you’ve got the right house – I am a member of the Faculty of Advocates in Scotland. Unless I get a sensible explanation – from
one of you
– in the next thirty seconds, I will have you and your armed guard here in front of a high court judge before you can say Liberty Bell.’

The Chief Constable had his cap off and was looking decidedly pale. ‘Miss Campbell, my apologies. Let’s sit down and we’ll explain. Lieutenant, just take a seat and stop huffing and puffing, will you?’

We all sat. Sam waved her hand regally across the table at the men. ‘Chief Constable?’

He pointed across the table at me and Danny. ‘These two men – Colonel Douglas Brodie and Mr Daniel McRae – attempted to kidnap an American major at Prestwick Airport two days ago. Is that correct?’

‘Kidnap is a bit strong, Chief Constable,’ I responded. ‘We were drinking coffee in the officers’ mess, having a wee chat with the major about escaped Nazis and such stuff. Along the lines of my private conversations with you.’

McCulloch’s lips thinned. ‘One of you drew a gun, I believe? You tried to coerce the major into some form of admission.’

‘Is that reason enough for a re-enactment of D-Day?’ I said.

He shook his head. ‘That’s something for later debate. It’s not why we’re here.’

‘Can you get to the point, please?’ Sam said.

‘Major Salinger had you arrested and imprisoned overnight. He then took the last flight from Prestwick to London.’

‘That’s what we were told,’ I said.

‘Major Salinger was abducted in London yesterday morning.’

FIFTY-SEVEN

‘Oh God,’ I said. ‘How? Where?’

‘From a flat used by visiting senior officers and embassy officials.’

‘And you think he’s
here
?’ Sam demanded. ‘That’s why you wanted to search my house? Are you completely daft, Chief Constable?’

‘Sir! Permission to search the house, sir!’ The lieutenant’s Pavlovian response made us all stare at him.

‘Oh, shut up, Osborne!’ said McCulloch. ‘Do you really think Miss Campbell is hiding your missing major under her bed?’

We all waited for the lieutenant to reply. I thought he might burst.

‘Don’t know for sure, sir. Just following orders, sir.’

Sam got to her feet. There was a scramble by all the men to get to theirs.

‘Lieutenant, I admire your persistence. You must follow orders. Even if they’re silly. So you have my permission to go and look under my bed. In fact, all our beds. Apologies in advance for the stoor. It’s my housekeeper’s day off.’

The lieutenant’s mighty jaw was working overtime. I wondered if he thought
stoor
could be dangerous, as if Sam had booby-trapped the beds instead of merely failing to dust them. He looked at the Chief Constable and then back at Sam, racked with indecision, afraid if he left the room the Limeys would gang up on him. She waved the backs of both hands at him.

‘Off you go. And take your nice soldiers with you.’ She pointed at Sangster, who flinched. ‘I’d like you to go with them, Chief Inspector, to make sure they don’t stick bayonets into my feather pillows.’ Sam sat back down. ‘Now then, Chief Constable, tell us all the details, and we’ll see if we can help.’

The lieutenant gave a smart salute to the room in general, made a heel-clicking about-turn and started shouting orders at his men. Sangster rose to his feet, grabbed his cap and went after them. They set off up the stairs, shouting as they went, watching out for stoor. Sam abandoned her serene air.

‘Malcolm, I am going to have you nailed to the door of the high court for this. That circus outside my house at this time on a Saturday morning? That was simply unnecessary and I won’t stand for it. Every neighbour for miles around will have dived back into their air-raid shelter. What a fuss! Now, tell us everything, and make your case well.’

The Chief Constable ran his finger round his choking collar and explained. After Salinger had had us arrested he’d phoned his embassy and told them he needed to visit urgently. He’d flown down that night, and stayed at the embassy flats nearby. Yesterday, as Danny and I were being let out of the Prestwick military nick, Salinger was walking round to the embassy for a nine o’clock meeting when he was coshed and bundled into a Harrods van. According to two passers-by, it was driven off at high speed. It wasn’t deranged customer service by the store; the van had been stolen earlier. It was found abandoned at Regent’s Park later in the morning. There had been no sign of Salinger since.