‘We’ll need to get the ferry, preferably one that takes vehicles.’

‘Shit. Tell me this isn’t happening.’

Valentine moved towards the desk, stretched over and pulled the phone towards him. ‘I’m calling Glasgow, get them to send the copter.’

Martin dug her hands into her jacket pockets, leaned her back against the wall and sighed to the heavens. ‘Blow my budget as well, why don’t you … Get onto the Air Support Unit in Glasgow now, Bob.’

45

Valentine directed the helicopter controller at Air Support to collect himself, Martin and McCormack from the Low Green and called ahead for uniform to make sure the area was cleared. There was only one helicopter under contract to the force and he had expected a protracted debate about its usage but got none after offering the controller the opportunity to speak with CS Martin personally. He smiled at the response, but didn’t let on why; the chief super had started pacing her office now, breaking into occasional rants at DI Harris and Major Rutherford.

‘I should put the bloody pair of you in the cells, now,’ said CS Martin. ‘Just about pushed me out the door to front that press conference didn’t you? It’ll be a long time before I live that down.’

As she berated the men, Valentine confirmed the details once more with Air Support and stepped away from the phone. ‘Right, we’ll set off in ten minutes,’ he said.

‘What’s wrong with right away?’ said Martin.

Valentine flagged her down. ‘We’ve got plenty of time, they have to get here first.’

The CS took the opportunity to start once more on the list of grievances she had with Harris and Rutherford. ‘Sylvia, get Phil and Ally in here would you, they can escort this pair of twats down to the interview rooms and make a start on getting full statements.’

‘Hang on a minute,’ said Rutherford. ‘I don’t think you’ve got any cause to hold me here.’

‘Don’t you? Well that’s good I don’t give a bloody toss what you think, Tom. But if you’re looking for a reason to hang around then how about a detailed account of why you saw fit to withhold vital information from my officers relating to Tulloch and Finnie.’

‘I hardly think it was vital …’

‘A boy died, a sixteen-year-old because you wrong- footed my team, or doesn’t that bother you? No probably not, just another bit of collateral damage in your campaign isn’t it?’

Sylvia broke in, ‘Phil and Ally are on their way up right away.’

‘Good,’ said Martin. ‘Tell them to contact the Ministry of Defence with the new facts and get all the case files relating to Tulloch and Finnie’s departure from the army. I want to see heads roll. We’re going to blow this cover-up wide open.’

Valentine took the driver’s seat of Martin’s Audi. The road to the Low Green passed mainly in silence, except for the chief super’s curses every time a traffic light shone red or a pedestrian dared to cross in front of the car. There was very little she could say to mend the situation, an apology would be trite and useless, and wouldn’t bring back the murder victims or those who had been affected by their deaths. Saying sorry might be some kind of balm to Valentine’s ego, but he didn’t want to hear it; he knew Martin was, if not contrite, then feeling an embarrassment verging on shame and that was good enough for him.

‘Sir, would you like me to call ahead, tell the local officers we’re on the way?’ said McCormack.

‘God no,’ said Valentine. ‘You’ll only scare the horses. Or worse, the local team will wade in and we’ll be chasing Leask through the wilds for the next fortnight. No, they can find out why we’re there when we arrive.’

‘Yes, sir.’

At the Low Green the team caught the sound of the helicopter in the distance, a few day-trippers were interested enough to stop and stare at the sky. Uniform were clearing the ground for landing, herding people onto the pavements and stopping dog walkers from heading for the grass. As they waited, counting the moments to the copter’s descent, Martin approached Valentine and said, ‘This is a bloody mess, isn’t it?’

‘It’s not pretty.’

‘I’ll get my knuckles reddened for this, you know.’

‘I don’t think you can be blamed.’

Martin spat, ‘No. And neither do I, Bob, but we both know that’s not going to stop them.’

‘I suppose not,’ he dipped his head. ‘But you shouldn’t blame yourself.’

She calmed for a moment, then resumed her talk. ‘Tell me, did you suspect Eddy of anything, ever?’

The chief super gazed into Valentine, he saw she was checking him for non-verbal cues that might betray him so he held firm. Harris was finished, he knew that, and there was very little to be gained from making matters any worse for him. Despite the situation, the DI saw that Harris didn’t need any more trouble. ‘No, I never suspected Eddy of anything.’

‘No, me neither. His coat’s been on a slack hook for a long time but I thought that was him just getting lazy – turns out he’s been anything but. Silly bastard. He’ll be hung out to dry for this.’

‘And so he should be.’ It didn’t please Valentine to think of another officer being brought down, even Flash Harris. But an officer treating the job with such contempt, that was something altogether different. He couldn’t imagine letting his own standards fall so low, how could anyone else? There was a collective shame that Harris had brought on everyone and Valentine didn’t want to see others in the station suffer because of it.

The noise of the downdraught and the whirring blades of the helicopter curtailed their conversation. As the copter’s side-doors opened the team piled in and fastened themselves into their seats for the short journey across the Firth of Clyde. The pilot motioned them to put on their earphones and then relayed the message that they were landing on a playing field in Brodick, it was approximately half a mile from the hotel where Leask was staying.

Valentine turned to the pilot. ‘Call ahead when we’re a few minutes from landing and get a squad car to pick us up.’

‘If I can find anyone, the place isn’t fully manned.’

‘Brilliant. Let’s hope there’s nothing serious going down, like a goat in labour.’

The small island started to hove into view. The bright blues of sky and sea butting gently with the lush greens and deeper browns of the land and hills. It seemed a jagged, dramatic place. The cliff crags and the jutting peaks appearing starkly in contrast to the mainland’s built-up conformity.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said DS McCormack.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve never been to Arran,’ said Valentine.

‘Never. It’s so wild and harsh, yet peaceful.’

‘They call it Scotland in miniature … and all life is here.’

The helicopter seemed to swing out to sea again and then backed up on itself and drifted closer to the coast. They were now near enough to see people looking up to the skies and the branches of trees bending downwards in the rotor’s wake. The pilot waved to a man on the ground who was standing by a pair of red cones, flagging his hands above his head. The engines heaved a last loud burst and then the helicopter was lowered to the ground, the wheels bouncing gently and then staying still.

The blades above were still turning as the squad got out. A man in uniform, holding his hat pressed tight to his head, approached.

‘Inspector Valentine?’ he said.

‘Yes, that’s me.’ The DI introduced the others and the uniform announced himself as DS Rory McNeil.

‘If you follow me,’ he said. ‘I have a car waiting to take you round to the Auchrannie … it’s the Astra estate over there.’

‘That would be the big white one with police on the side?’

‘I see there’s little gets past you, sir.’

At the hotel Valentine instructed DS McNeil to drop them some distance from the front entrance. ‘I don’t want to tip off Leask, if it can at all be helped.’