Hour Of Darkness

Thirty

‘This is an unexpected pleasure, Dan,’ Max Allan told his visitor. ‘You’re the first of my old colleagues to look me up since I retired. But how did you know where to find me?’

Provan beamed up at the former assistant chief constable. ‘For fuck’s sake, Max,’ he laughed. ‘Everybody in the force knows you drink in a pub called the Hoolet’s Nest. Why should that change just because you’re no’ a polis any more?’

‘True enough. What are you for?’

‘I’ll have a bottle of Magner’s, and that’ll be me. I’ve upset too many uniforms in my time to take a chance.’

Allan nodded. ‘I know that for a fact. Christ, the number of complaints I had about that tongue you’ve got on you. I hear you’ve landed on your feet, though. I wondered how you and Skinner would get on. I knew he’d either take to you or you’d be out on your arse in thirty seconds. Your homespun charm seems to have worked, from what I’m told. You and Lottie are his star CID turn, so Bridie Gorman said last week.’

He ordered Provan’s cider, then glanced around the small saloon. ‘You know why I like it here?’ he asked. ‘It’s the most anonymous pub I know. The signs outside say “Barnhill Tavern”, but nobody calls it that, ever. So if anyone wants to come looking for me, searching for the Hoolet’s, they’re going to have a hell of a job finding me, unless they’re local. . and if they are, I’ll see them before they see me. So, like I asked you earlier, how come you did? You’re from Cambuslang.’

‘I’m also a fuckin’ detective,’ the little sergeant retorted. ‘I phoned your house before I left home. Your wife told me where you were and how to find it.’

‘So much for security,’ the retired ACC sighed. ‘Now, what do you want?’

Provan feigned outrage. ‘Why should I want anything? You and I go back over thirty years. You were my first sergeant in uniform.’

Allan laughed. ‘And some impression I must have made on you. Look at you now. Do you practise being scruffy, Dan?’

‘I don’t have a wife to impress any more, Max. Not that I ever did impress her; she buggered off eight years ago, remember? Apart from that, though, yes I do. You were in uniform too long, or you wouldnae have to ask me. What’s scruffy in the office is standard dress code in some of the places I have to go. I adapt it too. Skinner thinks I’m a Celtic supporter because I was wearing a shamrock lapel badge the first time we met. What he doesnae know is that I’ve got a Rangers badge as well that I wear when it’s called for.’

He winked. ‘You’re right, by the way. Lottie and me, we do seem to be teacher’s pets right now. He sent us off on a secret mission this afternoon. To come clean, that’s why I’m here. . not that it’s no’ nice to see you enjoying your happy retirement, mind.’

‘So what’s the secret?’

Provan glanced around the bar, checking that there was nobody within hearing distance. ‘It’s very secret,’ he said, ‘so anything I say’s between us, kapisch?’

Allan nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘One of our professional colleagues has done a runner,’ Provan continued.

‘I see. And what district would this officer belong to? He’s one of our own, I’m assuming, a Strathclyde officer. . and a man.’

‘No, he’s Edinburgh. . but it is a he.’

‘So why are you in on the act? And why’s Bob, for that matter?’

‘Because he used to be one of ours: Bandit Mackenzie.’

Allan stared at him and his eyebrows rose. ‘Indeed!’ he murmured. ‘No wonder the third floor’s in a panic. What do you need from me?’

‘Anything you can tell me about him that might give us a pointer to where he might run to. The investigation’s bein’ coordinated by a DI in Edinburgh, and he’s got every force in the country with a coastline checking ferry terminals. They’ve been playing their cards close, but I’m guessing they found a ferry website open on his computer.

‘If that’s right he didnae go out of Troon, that I know for certain, having spent the afternoon reviewing tapes down there. When I phoned the guy Wilding, he told me that there wis no advance booking, but there had been a possible sighting today in Hull, bound for Esbjerg in Denmark, right car, right colour, but a dirty number plate that couldn’t be read on the CCTV. They won’t know for sure till it gets there.’

‘He never worked directly under me,’ the veteran said, ‘but there’s one thing I remember about David Mackenzie, wherever he goes, he won’t be able to speak the local lingo. I remember he applied for a secondment to Interpol, when he was a detective sergeant, but got knocked back because he didn’t have a second language.’ He took a mouthful from his pint glass. ‘But you don’t think he is on a ferry, do you, Danny?’

‘I’m no’ sure,’ he confessed. ‘Skinner, though, he’s been talking to a psychobabbler; he didn’t tell us who, but he seemed to rate him. His “expert” view was that he’d be more likely to run to somewhere closer to home, somewhere in his own comfort zone. Personally, I think profiling’s all shite, but I’m just a common foot soldier.’

‘That’ll be right,’ Allan scoffed. ‘You’re an anti-authoritarian little sod but there’s nothing common about you, and there isn’t a single idea you’d dismiss out of hand.’

‘Maybe not,’ Provan sniggered. ‘I just don’t like these boys coming out of university and spouting wisdom straight from their degree course. Just suppose the guy’s right, can you think of anywhere that Mackenzie might head for?’

He frowned. ‘There is someone you might talk to. I know a man, a priest in East Kilbride, and I’ve heard it said that he took the young David Mackenzie under his wing. He did that sort of thing. But not in the way that makes the headlines these days.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Tom Donnelly: Father Thomas Donnelly. He’s quite a man; a pretty charismatic guy.’

‘And I’ll find him in East Kilbride, you say?’

‘No, not any more: priests retire at seventy now, and Tom’s a couple of years beyond that. The church owns some properties to house its own, and he lives in one of them, a nice wee cottage from the looks of the photo he sent me last year.’

‘Is he likely to know where Mackenzie might go in a personal crisis?’

‘It’s possible, that’s why I mentioned him. But the truth is, if he’s had some sort of a breakdown, if he’s not in his right mind, who knows where he’d go? I’m in your camp when it comes to psychology; I think it’s all crap too.’

‘We’ll probably check the priest out anyway. Where is this cottage?’

‘It’s in Tighnabruaich.’

‘Tighnabruaich! That’s away in the back of beyond. Do ye no’ have to get a plane to get there?’

‘That wouldn’t help; there isn’t an airfield for miles around. The only realistic way is by car. But don’t worry, you’ll do it in a day easily.’