had left with the pair of them. The partners in crime were clearly up to something. He'd trailed them across Fife and into Dundee and followed them up Small's Wynd. As soon as they were inside the old sandstone building, he'd hurried in their wake. The sign by the door said DEPARTMENT OF FORENSIC SCIENCE, which gave him pause. What were they looking for? Why were they here?
Whatever it was, it didn't take them long. They were out on the street inside ten minutes. He almost lost them on the approach to the Tay Bridge, but managed to stay in touch as they slowed to turn on to the St. Andrews road. Parking had been a slight problem, and he'd ended up leaving the car blocking someone's drive.
He'd kept them in sight as they walked up through the town. There seemed to be no particular objective to their progress. They doubled back on themselves a couple of times, criss-crossing North Street, Market Street and South Street. Luckily, Mackie was tall enough to stand out on the street, so it wasn't too hard to trail them. Then, suddenly, he realized this apparently aimless wander was taking them closer and closer to the West Port. They were going to the Lammas Bar. They actually had the brass neck to walk through the door and revisit the place where they'd first targeted his mother.
Sweat broke out on Macfadyen's upper lip in spite of the damp cold of the day. The pointers to their guilt were multiplying by the hour. Innocence would have kept them well away from the Lammas Bar, innocence and respect. But guilt would draw them like a magnet, he was sure of it.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost walked straight into them. They'd stopped unexpectedly in the middle of the pavement, and he'd kept walking. His heart banging in his chest, Macfadyen sidestepped them, head turned away. He dodged into a shop doorway and looked back, clenching his clammy hands in his pocket. He couldn't believe his eyes. They'd bottled it. They'd turned their backs on the West Port and were striding back down South Street in the direction they'd come from.
He almost had to break into a trot to keep them in sight as they cut down a series of vennels and wynds. Their choice of narrow thoroughfares instead of the wider streets seemed to shriek guilty conscience at Macfadyen. Gilbey and Mackie were hiding from the world, taking cover from the accusing eyes they must imagine on every street.
By the time he made it back to his own car, they were already driving toward the cathedral. Cursing, Macfadyen got behind the wheel and gunned the engine. He'd almost caught up with them when the fates dealt him a cruel blow. At the bottom of Kinkell Braes there were road-works, the single carriageway controlled by traffic lights. Gilbey shot through just as the light turned from amber to red, as if he knew he needed to make his getaway. If there had been no vehicle between them, Macfadyen would have taken the risk and gone through on red. But his way was blocked by an auto-spares van. He brought his fist down savagely on the steering wheel, fuming as the minutes ticked by before the green light glared out again. The van crawled up the hill, Macfadyen tail-gating it. But it was a good couple of miles before he was able to pass it, and he knew in his heart there was no chance of catching Gilbey's BMW.
He could have wept. He had no idea where they were headed. Nothing in their perplexing morning offered any clues. He thought about going home, checking his computers to see if there was any fresh news. But he couldn't see the point. The Internet wasn't going to tell him where Gilbey and Mackie were.
The only thing he could be sure of was that sooner or later they'd return to North Queensferry. Cursing himself for his inadequacy, Macfadyen decided he might as well make his way back there.
At the moment Graham Macfadyen was passing the turn-off that would have taken him home, Weird and Alex were sitting outside his house. "Happy?" Alex said. Weird had already stalked up the path and hammered on the door to no avail. Then he'd walked round the house, peering in at the windows. Alex was convinced that the police would turn up at any moment, alerted by some nosy neighbor. But this wasn't