Fraser laughed. 'No way!'
Neil put down the electric kettle and looked quizzically at him. 'Come on – you're up to something. Whatever it is, I wouldn't mind being involved, you know.'
The adrenaline rush of excitement that Neil had experienced following the raid on Carlo's casino had stayed with him for a long while afterwards, and he relished the thought of another “adventure”.'
'Well, okay ....... It's something that Joe and I want to do – but it's personal and we didn't want to involve anyone else from the office this time. It's got a different kind of risks and we don't want to expose anyone else to them.'
'But I'm offering – I don't mind taking a risk or two, if it's worthwhile.'
'Okay.' said Fraser slowly. 'We're planning a hit on Henry Smythe – the bastard that pulled the rug out from under Keith Sanderson's feet. Our plan is to plant drugs on him and fit him up, so that he gets arrested in possession.'
'That's a bloody great idea! … I can't think of anyone who deserves it more. I didn't really know Keith Sanderson very well, but I do like the idea of hitting back at Cormacks.'
'Yeah. Right, I'll have a word with Joe, 'cos it would be good to have a bit more help.'
* * *
Two weeks later, Joe's mobile phone rang. He was in the middle of his lunch break and had just taken a large bite out of a cheese sandwich. He swallowed it quickly.
'Hi!'
'Is that Joe?'
'Yeah.'
'It's me, Maddie,' said a voice, breathlessly. 'I got your stuff.'
'That was quick. I ...er... where would you like us to meet?'
'This afternoon be best. Three o'clock. Botanic Gardens. In the cafe.'
'Yeah, I can manage that. I'll see you there. Thanks ...er... Maddie.'
He told Fraser what had been arranged
'Do you want me to come?'
'No. It will draw less attention if we look like an ordinary couple meeting up,' Joe replied.
* * *
At quarter past two, he parked his car at the roadside in Inverleith Place. He walked around the corner into Arboretum Place and into the Botanic Gardens at the West Gate. A stiff breeze was blowing and leaves were falling from the trees like large snowflakes. They were being gathered by the wind into small heaps, that rustled and crunched beneath his feet, as he walked unhurriedly up the winding path to Inverleith House. The cafe was fairly empty. There was an elderly couple at one table; a group of four who looked like Japanese tourists were standing up, just about to leave; and three young mothers with their toddlers at another table. They were shortly joined by a breathless woman, wearing a long woollen cardigan in rainbow colours, carrying a baby on her hip.
Joe selected a table with his back to a wall, where he could keep an eye on both the entrance and the terrace. Just before three o'clock, Madalina entered looking furtively around. Joe gave her a wave and she quickly joined him.
'What can I get you?' he asked.
'A cappuccino, please.'
'Would you like anything to eat, as well?'
'No, no ... er, okay.' She gave him a quick smile. 'Yeah – a chocolate brownie.'
By the time Joe returned with their order, her haunted demeanour had softened, and he was struck with how beautiful she was when she relaxed and smiled. They were far enough away from the other tables, and the cafe staff, not to be overheard.
'I got your stuff in my bag. It's coke.'
'Great. You can let me have it before we leave.'
'Dipsy didn't have it straight away, but he manage to get it couple of days later. He ask why I wanted to score so much, but I just say a few of the girls was hard-up and wanted to keep the cost down, so we all chip in the cash. He was happy enough so long as I wasn't trying to steal his customers.'
'Did he get you a hundred grams?'
'Yah. An' at first he ask for four thousand. I say “No way” and say “Two and a half.” He say “You must be joking - I gotta have four”. In the end, he settle for three and a half,' she said, looking pleased with herself.
'That's terrific. You've done good. Fraser'll be pleased, 'cos he's providing most of the cash.'
Madalina opened her shoulder bag and took out the brown envelope, that Joe had used to mail the money to her. She slid it across the table to him and he quickly put it in the inside pocket of his jacket.
She took a bite of her cake and chewed it thoughtfully before speaking. 'You know, that Smythe? ... He come to Carlo's last night.'
'He's getting to be a frequent visitor, isn't he?'
'Yah, and Carlo say to Ana she got to be specially nice to him. Carlo say he marry a very rich woman, so he have lots of money to spend. He come to Edinburgh when Cormack ask him, but he leave his wife still back in London.'
'Is she indeed?'
Madalina hesitated, then continued. 'Yah, an' Ana and me – we was talking about it … We think he wouldn't want his wife to find out what he gets up to here.'
'I bet he wouldn't.'
'We reckon he'd pay a lotta money to stop her finding out.'
Joe smiled. 'That sounds a bit like blackmail.'
Madalina raised her eyebrows but said nothing more.
'You've been a wonderful help, Maddie. Thanks a lot, ' Joe said, standing up. 'You leave first, and I'll go and settle the bill.'
* * *
Chapter 11 November
A dark blue van had been parked in Holyrood Road for several hours. Drizzle, early in the evening, had driven the few tourists into nearby restaurants and bars and the street was quiet. In the back of the van, out of sight, sat Joe, Fraser and Neil. They passed the time talking quietly or just sitting silently, and so the minutes had dragged interminably. It was just after midnight when the mobile phone, in Joe's breast pocket, vibrated. It was what they had been waiting for.
'It's me, Maddie. He's just leaving.'
'Okay,' snapped Joe. 'That's it. He's on his way. Off you go, Neil.'
Fraser and Joe climbed through to the seats in the cab and got out. The night was chilly and Joe's breath formed clouds in the cold damp air. As Fraser got out and joined him, Neil slid quickly behind the wheel. He fired up the engine and, leaving the other two standing on the pavement, drove quickly down the road, turning left into a narrow street beside a large block of modern flats.
Ever since it had been announced that the new building for the Scottish Parliament was to be constructed beside the Palace of Holyrood, land prices in the locality had rocketed. Several large developments had been completed, and some of the modern, spacious flats that had been constructed were among the most desirable – and expensive – in the city. Henry Smythe had bought one of them.
Smythe had spent most of his working life in London. As an ambitious quantity surveyor for Cormack Construction, he had worked very hard and was quickly promoted into a managerial position. He was doing well, but his life and fortunes had changed in a much more significant way, however, when he met Barbara. She was the only daughter of Peter Stafford, an engineer who had developed a small electric motor. It had been recognized, by car manufacturers around the world, as just what they were looking for to operate windows, mirrors, and seats. And the motors, that started out as luxury components in only the most expensive vehicles, quickly became a standard fitting in more basic models. As a result, hundreds of thousands were sold and Stafford had amassed a large fortune.
Barbara was a few years younger than Henry and she was a plain, plump young woman but, as soon as he learned who her father was, he was prepared to overlook any minor deficiencies and he had pursued her ardently. His persistence paid off and the couple were married following a whirlwind romance.
At the time that he received the call for help from Seamus, Smythe had never visited Scotland. Edinburgh had been a revelation to him when he arrived, following the request for his assistance. He enjoyed the city and especially the freedom that he felt away from London – happy to be away from the restrictions that were imposed by his wife. He persuaded
Barbara that it would be a wonderful investment for them to buy a flat in Holyrood Road, that they could use for holidays, especially at New Year and during the Edinburgh Festival. He had been at his most persuasive, greatly overstating the benefit of close proximity to the royal residence and having Scottish politicians as neighbours, and eventually Barbara had agreed. Henry secured for them one of the most prestigious penthouse flats in a large development.
Fraser was standing at the corner of the lane, watching with a phone clamped to his ear.
'He's coming, Neil – get in position!'
Smythe's silver BMW cruised down Holyrood Road and turned into the narrow street, stopping abruptly in front of the large blue van that was doing a three point turn ahead of him. He looked exasperated and was about to sound his horn, but turned his head, startled, as Joe who had run from behind, rapped on the window of the passenger door. Suddenly, the driver's door beside him was yanked open and he gasped as he was grabbed firmly by the hair.
'What the fuck ...' he began, then his eyes widened, horrified, as a man in a black ski-mask raised his arm.
The cosh hit him with a soft splat on the side of the neck and he slumped sideways.
'Not so bloody hard, man,' snapped Joe. 'We're not trying to kill him!'
He reached into the car across Smythe and quickly released his seatbelt. They dragged him from the car to the van that had pulled up alongside. Neil jumped out of the van and opened the back doors. They hoisted Smythe and dumped him in. Fraser climbed in after him as Neil ran back to the cab, stamped on the accelerator and drove off, fast, down Holyrood Road, turning into the park. He took the road which encircles Arthur's Seat and headed for his flat near the Newington area of the city. Meanwhile, in the back, Fraser bound Smythe's hands and stuck wide adhesive tape round his head and over his mouth. While this was happening, Joe ran to Smythe's car, turned it around and was following closely behind.
Neil's ground floor flat was in a residential street close to the University of Edinburgh, and it was fairly quiet when they arrived. A small group of students ambled past, singing as they headed home. Joe, in the BMW, drew up behind the van and they waited until the students turned the corner at the end of the street, before manhandling the still-groggy Smythe in through the door that Neil had unlocked.
Inside, was a pleasant and spacious flat that Neil had renovated himself. It was decorated with crisp modern lines, and furnished with stainless steel and leather seating. He lived there alone, having separated from his long-term partner two years earlier.
They all ensured that their ski-masks were pulled down and took Smythe through to a bedroom, stripped him of all his clothes and tied him, spread-eagled, to the four corners of a small double bed. When he realized what was happening to him, he began to struggle until Fraser threatened him again with the cosh. They checked to ensure that the tape was secure over his mouth, then left him alone in the dark – making a muffled whimpering sound. They settled down to wait.
A couple of hours later, there was a furtive knock on the window. Neil peeped through the wooden shutters, then went to the front door. He opened it and Madalina entered, accompanied by a small blonde girl. She looked about seventeen.
'Hi, Maddie,' said Joe softly. 'It's all gone smoothly, so far.'
'This's Ana,' she replied, nodding towards Fraser and Neil. 'She's from Romania too.'
'Are you sure you really want to do this, Ana?' asked Joe who was somewhat taken aback by how young she looked.
'Ya,' she said. 'He like give punishment to girls, so he should get some himself.'
Joe went through to the bedroom carrying a scarf. He checked that Smythe was still held securely, then he tied the scarf as a blindfold over his eyes. He went back to the others and nodded. While he had been away, Ana had taken off all of her clothes. She looked extremely thin and vulnerable.
'He's got tape over his mouth to keep him quiet, so put your hand over it, okay?'
She nodded that she understood and they all filed through to the bedroom. No further words were spoken, but Smythe, hearing them approach, jerked his head from side to side and writhed anxiously. The long hair, that was usually combed over and carefully plastered down, was dishevelled and his bald head shone like a polished stone. Ana climbed on top of him and, keeping her hand clapped tight over his mouth, began moving rhythmically. Fraser started filming with a small cine camera, moving round the bed, taking shots from several angles and height. After a few minutes, he was satisfied that he'd got what they wanted, so he signed to Madalina who took Ana by the hand and led her back to the living room and her clothes.
Fraser bent over the quivering man on the bed and put his mouth close to his ear. 'You disappoint me, Smythe,' he growled softly. 'Can't even get a hard on when you've got it on a plate.'
He joined the others, back in the living room, and carefully checked the recording on his camera, as Madalina and Ana were preparing to leave.
'The two of you are amazing,' said Joe to the young women. 'I promise you, I'm gonna make sure you get half the money we get from him.'
'It okay, Joe, we trust you,' Madalina smiled. 'Then we be able to pay off debts with M&M.'
She and Ana left the flat quietly.
'I'm ready for phase two,' laughed Fraser.
'So am I,' Neil said. 'Let's get it on.'
Fraser picked up a small glazed tile that was lying on a coffee table. On it was a line of cocaine that Madalina had prepared for them. The three men put on their ski-masks and went back into the bedroom. A squirming Smythe had managed to dislodge the blindfold and he stared, panic-stricken, at them through one eye. Neil, who hadn't been involved with the Old Town Project, held the screen of the cine camera in front of the eye.
'See this? This's you. We think Barbara ought to see it. What do you think?'
At the mention of his wife's name, Smythe's eye began to blink frantically and he struggled against his bonds.
'In due course, you'll be contacted with a demand for payment. You don't pay – she gets a copy. Do I make myself clear?'
Smythe's eye blinked and his head nodded. At that, Joe stepped forward and pulled the blindfold back down. Gripping the hair at the back of Smythe's head in one hand, he took hold of the helpless man's nose and squeezed it tight. Unable to breath through the tape over his mouth, Smythe panicked and began to struggle, thrashing his legs and arms against the ties that were holding him down. Suddenly, Joe released his nose and a relieved Smythe snorted air into his lungs, taking with it the cocaine that Fraser was holding on the tile below his nose. The naked figure on the bed quivered and jerked convulsively, finally collapsing semi-conscious.
Joe checked his pulse, and that he was still breathing, while Neil and Fraser untied the soft ropes from his wrists and ankles. As quickly as they could, they dressed him in his clothes, awkwardly stuffing his floppy limbs into the trousers and the arms of his shirt. They carried him to the door and, as soon as Neil had checked that the street was clear, Joe and Fraser tossed the sagging body of Smythe into the back seat of his car. Joe got in beside him while Fraser got behind the wheel. With Neil following behind in the blue van, they headed through the quiet streets for Edinburgh's New Town. A light frost was forming on the tarmac, and ahead they could see the flashing lights of a Council truck spreading grit and salt. There was little traffic, though, as they crossed the end of Princes Street, passing St Mary's Cathedral, and turned into Albany Street. They drove slowly along Albany Street and crossed into the gentle curve of Abercromby Place, with it's fine Georgian stone terrace on one side and the mature Queen Street Gardens on the other. Travelling at no great speed, Fraser suddenly turned the wheel and scraped the car along the sides of three parked cars, the screech of metal on metal sounding harsh in the quiet street. Then, the BMW crossed over the street and embedded itself into the front of a handsome Jaguar that was parked against the kerb. As the Jaguar's vehicle alarm began to shriek, the two men dragged Smythe from the back seat and bundled him in behind the
wheel. While Fraser arranged his feet and slumped him forward over the steering wheel, Joe stuffed the open bag of cocaine into the glove compartment, and left the tile and one of Smythe's credit cards on the passenger seat. Lights began to be switched on in the windows near them, as people were woken by the car alarm but, in all, it had taken less than two minutes before Joe and Fraser were running to the end of the street, where Neil was waiting in the blue van.
* * *
George Henderson parked his classic Mercedes Benz and ensured that it was locked. He was a careful man whose employment career had started in a print works, setting typeface. There, he had been encouraged to join the administration staff. He'd learned book keeping and eventually became a self-taught accountant. Married for twenty four years to Mary, they had two sons – one married, and one at Stirling University.
Although several of his close friends had retired, George had decided that he wanted to continue working for a few more years and, when Paul offered him a job with CAT Architects, he had welcomed the challenge of setting up the administration procedures for the new Practice. He walked briskly along Gayfield Street and, when he turned the corner, he met Fraser getting out of his car.
'Morning, Fraser,'
'Oh, hi, George. How are you doing?'
'Pretty good. Have you heard the news on the grapevine about your friend Henry Smythe?'
'What about him?' Fraser said innocently.
'Seems he smashed up several cars in Abercromby Place – drunk or high on drugs. What's more, he had a load of drugs in his car, so he's being charged for being a supplier as well as dangerous driving.'
'I know – It's fantastic! I couldn't be happier,' Fraser laughed. 'He's a nasty little bastard, and he deserves all that's coming to him.'
'You don't sound surprised. I thought I was the first to hear about it. Last night I was chatting to one of my neighbours ... his son is a cop based in the Pleasance.'
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