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‘Late to the party, Shona, but what I’ve got to say willnae take long.’ He grinned at her, the angular lines of his face became even more skull-like. He motioned her to drop her phone on the table. ‘Smart bitch like you can probably work it out for yourself. Although my last wee warning went unheeded.’ He gripped Becca’s broken arm with his free hand. Becca flinched, the pain showing on her face. She stifled a sob and shot Campbell a defiant look. The dark 4x4. It was Campbell in the iron-grey Land Rover Discovery who’d hit her daughter. Shona wanted to rip his throat out. A savage panic was forcing its way out of her chest. She pushed down the urge to scream at him. Let my daughter go. I’m the one you want.
Instead she said, ‘It’s okay, Becca,’ and tried to smile reassuringly, but her expression felt white hard. She kept her eyes not on Becca or the gun, but on Campbell’s leering face. Whatever he meant to do, she would see it there first. ‘I’m here now. Tell me what you want, Evan. Put the gun down and let her go,’ she said with false calm. In the corner of her vision, Baird was tense and poised to intervene, but on whose side?
Baird took a step towards Campbell who turned and levelled the gun at him. ‘Now, now Gavie-boy, no interrupting.’
‘Let the girl go, Campbell,’ Baird persisted. ‘I told you, it’s sorted. My guy’s in Shona’s seat now, the cases are wrapped up. Back to business as usual.’
‘Aye, so you keep saying, but the bitch doesn’t take a telling.’ Campbell switched his glare back to Shona. It was like an icy blast, straight from hell.
‘Okay, okay. Put the gun down, Evan,’ Shona said. ‘There’s nothing I can do to you. I’m out of the force, I’m no threat to you. Let my daughter go.’
‘Not good enough. I say we kill them both now, keep it tidy.’
‘She’s right,’ Baird broke in. ‘You got away with the others cos nobody cared about a couple of junkies and an illegal immigrant. Kill a police officer and her daughter, and they’ll never stop hunting you. I’ll not be able to save you.’
A flicker of doubt crossed Campbell’s face. Baird pressed his advantage. ‘Know why she won’t talk? Because I’ve had a chat with Harry Delfont, her old boss. He says hello, by the way, Shona. Lots of dirt on this lassie, Evan. Juicy stuff.’ He raised his eyebrows chummily at the gunman. ‘And that dodgy banker husband. All those gambling debts Kenny helped him run up? The big man was right, should have just offered her a cut. No need for all these dramatics.’
Shona felt a wave of hot nausea. So, Kenny Hanlon had targeted her family. He’d preyed on Rob’s weakness, sent Campbell to run Becca down, all to get at her. And Delfont, she thought she’d escaped him. It would all come out now, everything she’d tried to hide. It took a fraction of a second for Shona to realise she didn’t care. Becca was the only thing that mattered. Shona’s world narrowed to her daughter, Campbell and the gun. The ambulance, the squad car despatched with them, Dan Ridley, Murdo, even Rob were all too far away. She dragged her eyes from Campbell and swept the room for a weapon. A heavy wooden oar, engraved in gold with the names of past Kirkness rowing champions, was propped in the corner by the door. Pictures flooded through her mind; Siobhan’s lifeless body, Jamie Buckland curled like a sleeping child. You couldn’t reason with Campbell. He would always take what he wanted unless someone stopped him. Unless she stopped him.
‘Put the gun away, let the lassie go,’ Baird hissed, red-eyed. ‘It’s fixed. You walk. Get back to business. Keep the big man happy. We all get what we want.’
Campbell grinned. ‘Aye, maybe you’re right. Not worth the bother.’ He let the gun fall to his side but kept hold of Becca.
Baird’s shoulders relaxed. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Seems a shame, I was looking forward to topping that bitch.’ Campbell licked his lips and leered at Shona.
‘You’re a sick fuck, Campbell. Get out of here.’
‘What, no got the balls for it? Seems to me it’s your lack of balls that landed us here. Hanlon always said you were weak.’
Shona saw the flash of anger twist on Baird’s face. He was a DCI, used to respect. He stepped up to Campbell. ‘You’re the weak link, Campbell. You should be on a leash.’
‘Is that a fact?’ Campbell threw Becca aside and brought the gun swiftly against Baird’s chest. The two men stood toe-to-toe, neither willing to give way. Baird’s bulk blocked Campbell’s view. Quickly, Shona pulled Becca’s towards her and with clumsy fingers pulled down the gag and undid the sling binding her hands together. The stairway down from the mezzanine floor was only a few feet away. Shona put her mouth close to Becca’s ear. ‘Get out. Run.’ She turned her body to shield her daughter’s escape. But Becca hesitated, unwilling to let go of her mother. ‘Go, go. I’m right behind you,’ Shona urged, eyeing the two men.
‘You’re an animal, Campbell.’ Baird was spitting, the tamped-down anger bubbling up. Campbell’s scorn, the humiliating shove down the restaurant stairs. ‘You’re gonna bring us all down. Think the Big Man’s going to like hearing about this?’ he threatened. ‘Thugs like you are ten-a-penny. Just a cog. Probably got someone lined up already to take your place.’
‘Maybe he shouldn’t hear it then.’ Campbell’s savage face was inches from Baird’s.
Baird barked a laugh. ‘I’m a detective chief inspector. You need my protection. Shoot me and you’re dead too. Hanlon will drop you like the turd you are.’
‘You…’ as Campbell’s left hand went to Baird’s throat, the detective made a grab for the gun. The two men lurched sideways, locked in a vicious embrace. Shona pushed Becca stumbling down the darkened stairway and took a step after her. Then she stopped.
Baird had prevented Campbell shooting them both. He was mixed up with the Hanlon, with the supply of drugs, but his hatred of Campbell showed it wasn’t too late for him. With his help she could bring down Campbell and Hanlon, end this nightmare of killings. Whatever he’d done, it was her job to protect a fellow officer and e
nsure the safety of the public. She turned back just as the flash of light and the roar of the gun’s explosion filled the room. Both men were thrown backward. Shona saw Baird fall, the stench of cordite caught in her throat.
Baird stayed down, blood blooming across the detective’s white shirt, but his opponent scrambled to his feet and aimed the killing shot. Shona grabbed the oar and swung it at Campbell, catching him a glancing blow. The bullet missed Baird and sent up a plume of plaster as it struck the wall. Shona jabbed again at Campbell’s outstretched arm, but he sidestepped her and the weight of the oar sent her crashing to the floor. Baird lay next to her, his breath fast and shallow. Campbell levelled the pistol at her. Time slowed as Shona’s mind raced to a thousand different places. No matter where she looked the dark circle of the gun barrel swallowed her. There was no way out. Campbell’s death-head stare would be the last thing she saw. ‘Should have done you first, bitch.’ She heard the bang, the flash wiping out all vision. The room tilted and tumbled in an arc of noise, a red stench filling her nose and ears.
Campbell let out a howl as he was flung backward. Shona scrambled to her knees. Smoke arced through the room. Becca was at the top of the stairs, the launch tube of a red parachute flare still gripped clumsily in her hands. The rocket, having struck Campbell a glancing blow, ricocheted off the walls and cupboards. Shona heard it chime loudly against the metal roller door of the boat hall then clatter onto the concrete floor. Shona blinked sweat and smoke from her eyes. Campbell’s prone form lay by the mezzanine rail, writhing in the thickened air.
Below, in the boat hall, the delayed ignition of the flare exploded into life. The thousand degree burn of bright red magnesium crackled and popped. It sent up a glow of leaping, bloody shadows over the walls and rafters. Suddenly, a solid mass twisted through the smoke and darkness. Campbell was on his feet, one arm hanging strangely from the impact of the flare. But he raised the other, the gun levelled at Becca.
Shona grabbed the heavy wooden oar, the smoke swirling as the blade cut through the fiery air. ‘Get away from my daughter, you bastard!’ she roared, swinging at Campbell with all her strength. Before he could alter his aim, the oar caught him square in the chest, propelling him back against the mezzanine rail. He scrabbled desperately for purchase, but the slippery forms of the immersion suits hanging like chrysalises over the barrier offered none, and with a scream he tumbled backward out of sight. Shona heard the crack as he hit the metal outboard of the Margaret Wilson. She rushed forward and looked cautiously down. The scarlet flare lit the boat bay like a scene from hell and the devil himself, Evan Campbell, lay motionless in the lifeboat.
Becca ran to her mother, cradling her injured arm against her chest. ‘I got it from the night bag. Callum said… Callum said it must never be pointed at people and property, but I had to stop him. I had to…’ Shona pulled her daughter into a fierce hug. ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. You saved my life. You saved all our lives, that’s what you did.’ She pressed Becca’s face against her own, taking deep breaths of her daughter’s scent.
If time had slowed before, now it sped up. Baird lay on the crew room floor gasping, his eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling as blood bubbled from the corner of his mouth. The urgent tick of a life draining away. Shona pulled a towel from a kitbag in the corner and pressed it to the chest wound. Becca slid to the floor. She took a quick sideways glance at Baird. ‘He tried to save me, but the guy wouldn’t listen.’
