Head Shot

31

'Come on, Andy.' There was a chal enge in Mario McGuire's voice. 'Tell us the truth. Are you real y looking forward to Dundee?' The jazz quartet was on a break, and so the question carried to everyone in their alcove, some of them seated at two tables pulled together, others standing.

As he spoke he glanced around them all: Maggie, Willie Haggerty, Brian Mackie, Dan Pringle, the two other divisional heads. Detective Superintendents Greg Jay and Willie Michaels, Neil Mcllhenney, Sergeant Sammy Pye and his fiancee, Ruth McConnell, and Karen, the outgoing head ofCID's heavily pregnant wife. The Chief Constable had joined them for supper in La Rusticana, but had ducked out diplomatically, to al ow the serious business to begin.

Martin leaned back against the wal of the Cel ar Bar, his pint glass almost disappearing into his big hand. 'You know, Mario,' he said easily, with a grin, 'you always were a cheeky bastard.'

He slipped an arm around Karen's waist. 'As I think about your question, I can only reply with three of my own. First, how have I stood you lot for so long? Second, what the hell's going to happen if there's a serious crime tonight, since the entire CID command structure's in the process of getting rat-arsed? Third…' He spun his fingers and his glass appeared, empty. '… Who's going to fil this up? It's Deuchar's,' he added, 'in case you've forgotten.'

Sammy Pye picked up the mug containing the remains of their kitty, and the note of the round, and headed off to catch the attention of the big, red-headed manager. 'Are you going to give us the serious answer now, Andy?' asked Maggie Rose. 'Or is it too late for that?'

The newest member of the Association of Chief Police Officers looked back at her. 'One more pint and it wil be. One more pint and I'd be too maudlin to say this, or probably I'd do something very embarrassing if I tried.' He started to put his glass to his lips, before remembering that he had drained it. 'I've been in the trenches with you guys… and gals. I include my beautiful wife in that, and young Pye up at the bar there, and you too, Ruthie, since you know where most of the bodies are buried, and of course our absent friend, who, even as I speak, is probably scaring the living shite out of some poor rural polisman in wild Montana. I love every last one of you.' He paused and ran his eyes around the group.

'These have been the best years of my life… so far… and for them, I thank you all. Mind you, I suppose I should extend that vote of thanks to all those vil ains who over the years have been so fucking stupid that they've let the likes of us catch them.'

Up at the bar, Sammy Pye looked over his shoulder, wondering what the laugh was about.

'So,' said Martin, out of his earshot, 'you want the serious answer, Mags? Wel here it is. Through those years, I've had some close calls… the last one closer than most of you know. The truth is, I don't want any more; I've used up al my luck. I couldn't even trust myself to govft on an armed situation any more, because I know that if I did I would pul the trigger at the first hint of a threat.

'I'm looking forward to Dundee because it takes me out of the line of fire. I'm not saying that our job's life and death every day, because we all know that it isn't. But it can be. It has been for me, and for some of you, and we can all remember a couple of col eagues who aren't around any more. It's not getting any less dangerous, either; we'd an armed robbery this afternoon… bril iantly cleared up inside two hours by Superintendent Rose and her team. Round of applause, gentlemen, and thanks, Mags, for letting me sign off without any red marks on the crime figures.'

He raised his empty glass in his colleague's direction, while the others nodded agreement.

'So yeah,' he went on, 'I'l put on my ACC's uniform on Monday without the slightest qualm or pang or any of those things. I'l miss you al, of course; but I'll have the consolation of a new job. I'm going to be responsible, believe it or not, for community policing, traffic patrols and public relations, among other things. And if any of you lot are caught speeding round the Dundee ring road, don't think I'l pul the ticket. Far from it, I'l put on my PR hat and make sure you wind up in the Courier.'

He took his replacement pint ofDeuchar's Ale from the tray that Pye had brought back. 'There is one other thing I should say. As some of you may know also, I have been round the block a couple of times and more in a personal sense. Well, final y, I've found what was meant for me al along. I'm looking forward. God wil ing, to many years of coming home safely at night to Karen, and our daughter, when she's born. I think she deserves that security. I think they both do.'

He took a long swal ow from his glass. 'Right, that's it. Speeches over, let's get on with the business of the night.' The others, rendered silent for the moment by the frankness of his admissions, took their drinks from Pye's tray, as the musicians wandered back to their corner of the bar and picked up their instruments.

They had reached the third bar of 'Stormy Weather' when a mobile phone sounded in the middle of the detectives' alcove. 'Gonnae no dae that!' said Martin, theatrical y, looking round for the culprit, and smiling as an embarrassed Greg Jay took his handset from his pocket. 'Be firm with her, Greg,' he called out.

The Leith CID commander turned his back on the group and held the phone to his ear. The rest could not hear what he was saying, but they saw his body stiffen slightly in his chair, a reaction that killed the smiles and stil ed the laughter. Jay ended the cal then turned back to face the table, his eyes picking out a col eague. 'Mario,' he said. 'Beppe Viareggio's your uncle, yes?'

McGuire nodded.

'In that case, I think we should have a talk outside.'