‘No you don’t,’ I told him, ‘because, believe it or not, I’m on your side.’
He switched back to bewildered mode. ‘Why?’
‘Natural justice,’ I replied, ‘because this is where we get to the bad part. Your friends are dead. You stole the wrong fucking boat, David.’
‘What? How? What are you saying?’
I explained exactly what I was saying, chapter and verse; that the truth had been burned out of Hodgson, then he’d been shot, his killing followed by the casual, non-accidental death of Hector Mackail.
‘If you hadn’t been at sea, you might be dead too,’ I said. ‘Unfortunately, once you’ve heard the rest of the story, you’re going to wish that you were.’
I gave him a minute to gather himself, and then I told him what had happened to his partner and daughter, and who had done it. When I’d finished, he sat there, looking at me as if I was mad. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘terribly, terribly sorry. I hate being the man to give you this news, but I know the whole story, and I thought it was important that you heard it in context.’
Then he started to cry; I wanted to join him, but instead I left him alone with his grief. Captain Boyne was waiting in the corridor outside. I told him what had happened to Zena and Grete, then stayed where I was while he went in to comfort his friend.
After ten minutes, he reappeared. ‘David wants to talk to you,’ he said. ‘I’ll fix up coffee for us, and a brandy for him.’
I went back into the room. Gates was red eyed, but composed. ‘The guy who did it,’ he murmured. ‘You said he’s dead?’
‘Yes. The belief is that Zena’s death wasn’t meant to happen, and that the person who paid Francey to kidnap her silenced him after he screwed up.’
Gates’ eyes were icy. ‘Just as well. It saves me the trouble.’
‘I can’t argue with that,’ I told him. ‘The girl, though, Anna; I’d like to think that she didn’t understand everything that was going on.’
‘I don’t care,’ he retorted. ‘They can all fucking die. You said that Higgins’ man paid for it, and for Hector to be killed.’
‘That’s how it looks; and he’s dead too.’
‘And Higgins?’
‘There’s no proof and no suggestion that he ever knew.’
‘Do you believe that?’
‘I believe in proof,’ I replied. ‘That’s all I’ll say.’
‘Then I’ll find out for myself.’
I shook my head. ‘No, you won’t. Your wife is going to recover, and you’re going to take care of her, not go crashing off on a vigilante mission. Leave that stuff to people who’re good at it.’
‘That’ll be difficult,’ he snarled.
‘But you’ll manage.’ I paused for a second. ‘Now tell me,’ I continued. ‘Where’s the Princess Alison. I have a personal interest in her that you wouldn’t understand.’
‘They haven’t found her?’
‘No. And every marina in Britain and Ireland capable of holding her has been checked.’
‘You’d been looking in the wrong place,’ Gates retorted, with a twisted, humourless smile.
And then he told me where she was.
‘I need to see Grete,’ he said, as I was still digesting the simple mistake we’d all made.
‘You will,’ I promised, ‘this afternoon. I will take you straight to the hospital. But after that,’ I added, ‘you and I are going on a trip. Go and get your gear.’
He left to do as I’d told him. Once the door had closed on him I dug out my phone and switched it on. As soon as I had a signal, I called Mario.
‘Bob,’ he exclaimed. ‘Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to call you all day. I asked Sarah where you were but she said she didn’t know either.’
‘I didn’t tell her,’ I laughed. ‘If you’re that fussed you can have my phone triangulated and then you’ll understand why. Where’s the fire anyway?’
‘Under the chief constable,’ Mario retorted. ‘He’s had Eden Higgins’ lawyer making all sorts of threats. He even had a call from the First Minister. You do know, don’t you, that Eden’s a major backer of the SNP?’
‘I didn’t,’ I said, ‘but I don’t give a bugger either. What’s happening in the grown-ups’ world?’
‘You were right,’ he replied. ‘The CSIs found another bullet in Hurrell’s place. But so what? He could have tested the gun. If you’re going to blow your brains out you want to make sure you do it right.’
‘How many bullets were missing from the magazine?’ I asked.