internal calm to achieve anything useful with prayer. His imagination was galloping, running movies of his own children in the hands of an abductor. He knew he'd be beyond the reach of any rational response in Lynn's shoes. What he needed to do was come up with something concrete that might help.
He'd tried to get hold of Alex. But his mobile wasn't responding, and Alex's office denied having seen him or heard from him at all that morning. So Alex was on the missing list too. Weird wasn't entirely surprised; he'd been convinced Alex had something on his mind he intended to deal with.
He reached for the phone, wincing at even such a small movement, and asked directory inquiries for the number of Fife Police. It took him all his powers of persuasion to get as far as Lawson's secretary. "I really need to speak to the Assistant Chief Constable," he said. "It's urgent. You have a child abduction going on, and I have vital information," he told the woman, who was clearly as adept at stonewalling as he was at sweet-talking.
"Mr. Lawson is in a meeting," she said. "If you'll leave me your name and number, I'll ask him to contact you when he has the chance."
"You're not hearing me, are you? There's a baby out there whose life is in the balance. If anything happens to that baby, you can bet your pension that I'm going to be talking to the press and TV within the hour, letting them know how you guys fell down on the job. If you don't get Lawson on the line now, you're going to be the scapegoat."
"There's no need for that attitude, sir," the woman said coldly. "What was your name again?"
"The Reverend Tom Mackie. He'll talk to me, I promise you."
"Hold the line, please."
Weird raged inwardly to the soundtrack of a frenetic concerto grosso. After what felt an interminable wait, a voice he recognized down the years sounded in his ears. "This better be good, Mr. Mackie. I've been dragged out of a meeting with the Chief Constable to talk to you."
"Graham Macfadyen has snatched Alex Gilbey's baby. I can't believe you were sitting in a meeting while this is going on," Weird snapped.
"What did you say?" Lawson said.
"You've got a child abduction on your hands. About quarter of an hour ago, Macfadyen kidnapped Davina Gilbey. She's only a couple of weeks old, for crying out loud."
"I know nothing about this, Mr. Mackie. Can you tell me what you know?"
"Lynn Gilbey stopped for petrol at Halbeath services. While she was paying, Macfadyen stole the baby from Lynn's car. Your guys are there now, why has nobody told you?"
"Did Mrs. Gilbey recognize Macfadyen? Has she met him?" Lawson demanded.
"No. But who else would want to hurt Alex like this?"
"Children are kidnapped for all sorts of reasons, Mr. Mackie. It may not be personal." The voice was soothing, but it had no effect.
"Of course it's personal," Weird shouted. "Last night, somebody tried to beat me to death. You should have a report about that on your desk. And this morning, Alex's kid is abducted. You going to play the coincidence card again? Because we're not buying it. You need to get off your arse and find Macfadyen before anything happens to that baby."
"Halbeath services, you say?"
"Yes. You get down there right now. You've got the authority to get things moving."
"Let me speak to my officers on the ground. Meanwhile, Mr. Mackie, try to stay calm."
"Yeah, right. That'll be easy."
"Where is Mr. Gilbey?" Lawson asked.
"I don't know. He was supposed to be going to his office, but he's not turned up there. And his mobile's not responding."
"Leave this with me. Whoever has the baby, we'll find them. And we'll bring her home."
"You sound like the worst kind of TV cop, you know that, Lawson? Just get things moving. Find Macfadyen." Weird slammed down the phone. He tried to tell himself he'd achieved something, but it didn't feel like it.
It was no use. He couldn't sit here doing nothing. He reached for the phone again and asked directory inquiries for a taxi number.
Lawson stared at the phone. Macfadyen had crossed the line. He should have seen it coming but he had failed. Now it was too late to put him out of circulation. This had all the potential to spiral out of control. And who knew what might happen then? Struggling to maintain the semblance of calm, he called the force control room and asked