The Blood Tree (36 page)

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Authors: Paul Johnston

BOOK: The Blood Tree
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“It's good to see you,” I said. “Even if you cut it a bit fine.”

“There's gratitude for you.” She smiled. “It's good to see you too, Quint. Even if a mallet blow might have knocked some sense into you.”

Trust Katharine to hanker after lost opportunities.

It turned out that her friend's flat was in the Merchant City, to the south-east of the City Chambers. As we approached the centre, I lay down on the back seat. The last thing I wanted was Hyslop or one of her goons spotting me. At least I would be within walking distance of the hotel afterwards. The area was full of warehouse conversions and the like, expensive cars and security doors lining the streets. Davie pulled into a parking space that had the Super Llama's registration number painted on the asphalt.

Katharine said her name into a silver panel on the frame and the door clicked open. “Neat, huh?” she said. “Voice recognition. Ewan programmed mine in before we left.”

“Ewan?” I said as we stepped into a silent lift.

Davie was examining his fingernails with studied indifference.

“My friend.” Katharine pressed the button marked “Penthouse”.

“Your friend?”

“Not that kind of friend, Quint,” she said, registering my dubious tone. “If it's any business of yours.”

Davie coughed.

“Or yours, guardsman,” she said fiercely.

Davie grinned.

“Cool it, you two,” I said. “We've got things to talk about.”

Katharine nodded and stepped out of the lift after it pinged. She led us to a heavy brass-panelled door, said her name again and walked in.

I followed her. “Jesus Christ. What does this Ewan do? Deal in Charles Rennie Mackintosh artefacts?” The flat was a vast duplex, ceiling-high windows looking out towards the lights of the towerblocks across the Clyde. It was decorated with artworks that were obviously high quality. The furniture and fitments looked handmade as well.

“Good guess,” Katharine said, sitting down on a long red leather sofa. “He designs computer games, actually. There's a massive market for them everywhere in the world except Edinburgh.”

I glanced around. “So where is he then?”

“Don't worry. We're on our own. He and Peter are at their club.”

“Who's Peter?” I asked, unable to control my jealousy any longer.

Davie sat down heavily at the other end of the sofa. “Ewan's boyfriend.” He glanced dubiously at his clothes. “These belong to him.”

“Don't worry, you won't catch anything from them,” Katharine said acidly.

I was glad to see their partnership on the trip to find me hadn't ruined their mutual antipathy. I was also glad that it appeared Ewan was a friend rather than an ex-lover. I went over to the drinks cabinet to celebrate. It was three yards long and almost the same in height – and it must have contained just about every whisky known to man.

“Think we can have a drink?” I asked.

Davie got up. “Now you're talking. Peter said we could help ourselves.”

Katharine joined us. “See, Davie? Ewan and Peter are not all bad.”

I let them get on with squaring up to each other. I was too interested in a limited-edition dark brown malt from St Kilda. The remote island had been repopulated by a colony of very brave naturist crofters in the early years of the century. Presumably they traded full-frontal photos for barley – I couldn't see much growing on that barren gannet colony.

We settled on and around the sofa with well-charged glasses and I told them what had been going on. That kept them away from each other's throats.

Davie eyed me sceptically when I finished. “Have you been drinking a lot of that stuff since you got here, Quint?” He was nursing about half a pint of Carstairs, Cream of the Lowland Blends so he was hardly talking from a position of superiority. “It all sounds a bit too complicated.”

I raised my shoulders. “Take it or leave it, guardsman.”

Katharine leaned forward. “You've obviously done enough to wind the wanker with the mask up. Are you sure he was the one who killed the auxiliaries in Edinburgh? What does he call himself? Broadsword?”

“The Mallet of the Scots,” Davie observed, stifling a laugh.

“Very bloody funny,” I said. “Next time, you try giving him the time of day.” I turned to Katharine. “The witnesses in Edinburgh saw someone of his description, the kidnapped adolescents confirmed it and he was going to take me out – what more do you want?”

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “So why don't we just leave him to this Major Crime Squad woman you've been getting on so well with . . .” she shot me a sharp glance “. . . and bugger off back to the perfect city.”

“It's tempting.” I took a slug of St Kilda and felt my throat melt. “But the bastard managed to get into Edinburgh before. He'd probably follow me back home.”

Davie was nodding too. “Exactly. We can nail him there.”

“Thanks very much,” I said. “You want to set me up as a target and ride in at the last minute like Ivanhoe in a polo neck again? No thanks.”

I felt Katharine's hand on my arm.

“Cool it, Quint,” she said. “Master Davie took a major risk in coming to save your skin.”

I nodded, surprised at her sudden defence of the guard commander she loved to hate. “Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled. “I appreciate the knife you stuck in the bogeyman.”

Davie wasn't meeting my eyes.

“That's not what I mean,” Katharine said. “After you went missing, we reviewed the case and proposed a rescue mission to Hamilton. He vetoed it – said there wasn't enough evidence that you'd have been taken here. I didn't care. I do what I like and I was coming whatever. But Davie disobeyed the guardian's direct order. He stands to be demoted.”

“Christ.” I chewed my lip then punched the big man lightly on the arm. “Thanks, Davie. Don't worry, I'll square things with Lewis when we get back.”

He gave a wry laugh. “You? You're about as capable of squaring things with the guardian as I am of sucking his—”

“Spare us your hidden desires, commander,” Katharine said. She looked at me seriously. “What are we going to do, Quint? If we're going to head for the border, we'd better go while it's still dark.”

I thought about it, but not for long. Dougal Strachan's ravaged face and Leadbelly's frightened eyes flashed in front of me. “No. You two go if you want. I've got unfinished business.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Davie said, shaking his head. “I came to this shithole to take your sorry carcass back home and that's what I'm going to do.”

I grinned at him. “Spoken like a madman.”

Katharine stood up. “What does that make me?” she asked, walking to the far end of the room.

Davie and I looked at each other.

“Don't bother answering that, guardsman,” I warned. “Where are you going, Katharine?”

“Bed,” she said. “Are you coming, Quint?”

This time it was me avoiding Davie's eyes as I set off after her.

Ewan and Peter had pretty good taste to go
with
the riches they'd amassed. Apart from a bed that was big enough for a sultan and a sackful of sultanas, the bedroom was kitted out with chrome and leather furniture and fittings that must have dented their wad severely.

There was a clock in the shape of a computer screen on the wall. Three-thirty a.m. I wondered if my hotel room had been checked. Too late to worry now.

Katharine sat on the mock zebra-skin bedcover and undid her boot-laces. “Won't anyone be wondering where you are?” she asked.

I sat down next to her and started taking off my own footwear. “I imagine the bogeyman would like to know my whereabouts.” I picked up my boot and tried to spot where the bug had been inserted.

“How about that female police officer you've been spending so much time with?” There was only a hint of jealousy in Katharine's voice.

“Hel?” I laughed. “She may be female but she's not exactly open to propositions.”

“Just as well,” Katharine said, pulling her blouse over her head and looking at me.

I raised my eyes from her black bra. “We haven't got much time,” I said. “I'll have to be away by first light and we need to set things up with Davie before I go.”

She took hold of my shirt then pulled me close to her. “That'll be plenty of time,” she said, her voice low.

Apparently I was no longer in the dog-house I'd been consigned to in Edinburgh. That was a relief. So I kissed her, she kissed me and things began to move ahead rapidly. It was only when she released my tumescent cock from my underwear that I remembered.

“Shit. No condom.”

“Don't worry,” Katharine said, sliding her hand into her trouser pocket. “I came prepared.” She smiled contentedly. “Or rather, I will do.”

In fact, we both did.

When I came round, the noise of traffic in the streets below was greater than I expected in the early morning. I looked at my watch. It was after eight.

“Fuck,” I groaned, sitting up and swinging my legs out of bed. Hel Hyslop would definitely be after me now.

Katharine rolled towards me. “What was that?” she asked sleepily, a smile forming on her lips.

“No,” I replied. “No chance.”

A hand glided over my thigh.

“I love a challenge,” Katharine said, her voice hoarse and warm.

I could never resist that so I didn't bother trying. Whether it was because I hadn't woken up properly or because my mind had taken up residence in my dick, I completely forgot about protection this time. Until it was far too late.

“What's the matter?” Katharine asked when she saw the look on my face.

I rolled off her. “The small matter of rubberwear.”

She nudged me. “Did you really think I'd forgotten?” she asked. “I'm due today. The chances are non-existent, especially at my age.”

I looked round at her. “I hope you're right.”

“Trust me,” she said firmly. “The last thing I want is another Quintilian.”

I wasn't sure how to take that.

“Coffee in pot,” Davie said laconically as I stumbled into the living area.

In daylight the penthouse was even more amazing. Sunlight poured in through the high windows and the hills to the south glowed dull green. Not even the wealthiest tourists got accommodation like this in the Council's Edinburgh.

“Good morning to you too, commander.” I took an ornate mug from the antique dresser and filled it. There was a bunch of bananas in a fruit bowl on the kitchen surface. I grabbed two. That was my breakfast sorted out – in the perfect city we get bananas about as often as we see guardians dancing cheek to cheek. “What's your problem?” I enquired. “Pissed off about sleeping alone?”

“You know what I think about your girlfriend,” Davie replied. “The only thing she and I have got in common is a desire to keep you alive.” He turned away.

“Very good of you to bother,” I said, not feeling too comfortable with his mood.

Shortly afterwards Katharine appeared and we got down to a bit of strategic planning – such as it was.

“So we're staying in Glasgow till you catch the masked wanker, are we?” Davie demanded.

I nodded. “He's got two assistant masked wankers with him, don't forget.” I scratched my chin. “I wonder where they were last night.”

Davie swallowed a mouthful of banana. “I still don't understand why you won't leave the police to catch them. They're pretty obvious targets in that gear.”

“They may be pretty obvious but they aren't the whole story – not as far as the Edinburgh connection goes. I want to get inside the institute and find out how the stolen GEC file attachment fits into the case. They call that place the Baby Factory. I want to know what Rennie's been doing there.”

Davie ran his fingers through his beard. “Even if there's a connection with Edinburgh, that file's over twenty years old. Why are you so interested in it?”

I shook my head at him. “This isn't just a pre-Enlightenment affair, big man. The attachment was stolen now – in October 2026, remember?” I didn't intend telling them about the committee Lewis and Sophia were on until I'd made sure that the murders didn't tie up with it. If they did, I intended to find who in Edinburgh was involved.

“There's also the small matter of the kidnapped kids,” Katharine put in.

“Exactly,” I agreed. “We need to find a way of getting them back home. Hyslop and her people don't know where they come from.”

Davie held his hands up in submission. “Okay, okay, you've convinced me. The question is, what do we do next?”

I smiled at him. “Simple. I get inside the Rennie.”

Davie was staring at me. “Did you see the security on that place? Razor wire, alarms, cameras . . .”

“Don't worry,” I said. “We'll let the experts find a way in for me.”

“The experts?” Katharine and Davie said in unison. They'd definitely been practising.

“The Major Crime Squad,” I said. “If Hyslop and Haggs can't do it, nobody can. They're keen on nailing Rennie. Their problem is that they're police officers. In this city that means they're democratically accountable. They need a volunteer to do the dirty work.” I gave them my best gung-ho grin. “I am that volunteer.”

Now they were shaking their heads together. The double act was definitely coming along.

“It's too dangerous,” Davie said. “What if the psycho's in there? He'll have got himself a replacement mallet by now.”

“Don't worry about him,” I said. “I know exactly how to sort him out.”

“How?” Katharine demanded. “By standing up to him and letting him take a swing at you like last night?”

I looked at both of them. “I know what I'm doing,” I said. There was no way I was going to tell them how I planned on doing it at this stage.

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