concentration, and in any case he was afraid to shout. Instead he ran straight
forward, bulldozing his way through everything in his path over the ten
yards between him and the gun, flattening Silver as the outraged director
tried to block him, reaching Annand's awareness and his body at the same
time, grabbing his right arm and swinging it upward as his finger tightened
on the trigger . . .
Even under such a high roof, the explosion sounded huge as the actor
fired both barrels of the sawn-off, upwards, harmlessly away from Lou.
Annand's face twisted as he swung at Mcllhenney with his free arm. The
policeman head-butted him between the eyes, then dropped him like a stone,
under a shower of coloured glass fragments from the stained glass window,
which had just disintegrated above their heads.
He grabbed Lou, and held her to him, protecting her from the particles.
All around him, he was aware of people diving for cover.
274
AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN
'Was it him?' she whispered. 'Ralph?'
'No, love. Not him. I'm sorry, it was Lucy. Somehow, she switched blanks
for real cartridges. It's been Lucy all along.'
'No!' She twisted in his arms. 'Don't say that!'
'It's true, honey. I'm so sorry, but it's true. Do you know a man called
John McConnell?' He felt her nod.
'An old friend of my dad's,' she murmured. 'Strange man. He used to
visit. Lucy called him Uncle John.'
'Well, Lucy killed old Uncle John, and filmed herself doing it. She tried
to make herself look like you. She tried to make people think that you had
done it.'
She began to sob; he felt tears soak his shirt. 'She was out to ruin your
career; to ruin your life if she could.'
Elliott Silver's woman-like scream from the back of the Great Hall
seemed to tear them apart. Neil relaxed his hold on Louise and followed its
direction. The make-up woman lay on the ground, stunned. Above her stood
Lucy, holding Lauren, his daughter, just as Ralph Annand had held his
screen hostage, but with a cuticle knife pressed to her throat.
'Okay Daddy,' she shouted, hoarsely. 'Bring your car keys over here.
Your little girl and I are going for a ride.'
He looked at Lauren, signalling to her with his eyes that she should keep
calm, that he would make it all right. He walked towards her, reaching
down as if for the car keys, but in reality for the Glock which was tucked
into the waistband of his denims, finding time to wonder how it could ever
be the same between Lou and him once he had blown her sister's brains all
over Parliament House. He was aware of Bob Skinner, and of Mackenzie,
watching from the doorway. Bob knew what he was going to do all right
and stood there motionless, as if signalling him to get it over with.
'You know why,' Lucy shouted as he walked towards her. 'There's my
life, and there's hers; her with her fucking Oscars and me with only simple
bloody Darren to give me relief from the pain of watching our father shit in
his nappy every bloody day in life.
'You know that, don't you?'
'Sure,' he said, evenly. 'But those days are over, kid. All over.'
He was almost on top of her, his hand on the butt of the pistol, ready for
a point-blank shot, when a small voice rang out from behind her. 'Drop it,
and put your hands up.'
Lucy's eyes widened as she turned her head and her grip on the knife
slackened. It was enough; he let go of his gun, snatched the weapon with
his flashing left hand, then punched her with his right, once, on the temple,
pulling the blow slightly but still knocking her senseless.
He grabbed her round the waist as she fell, and as he did, he saw Mark,
frightened, but brave, still holding Ralph Annand's abandoned shotgun,
which he had retrieved from the floor in the panic, creeping round behind
Lucy as she focused her gaze on Neil, to ram both barrels into the middle of
her back.
Lauren looked up at him with her mother's eyes. 'Sometimes, Dad,' she
said, 'I'm even more proud of you than I am normally.
'"Now what,' she asked, 'is this with you and Louise?'
He gazed at her in astonishment then exploded into laughter, grabbing
his daughter and embarrassing her by throwing her into the air, then hugging
her to him, as Lou arrived to hug them both.
When the hubbub, the confusion, the panic was over, when the unit doctor
had sedated Lucy, before her transfer to hospital under police guard, when
he had treated Elliott Silver for hysteria and straightened Ralph Annand's
nose, when Bob Skinner, long since, had taken the children off to join Jazz
and Seonaid, he took Lou away, out of the Hall, up the stairway and into
the deserted Signet Library.
'I'm so sorry, Neil.' She exploded into tears once again as he sat her
down beneath the great tiers of books which held much of the story of
Scotland's law.
'What should you be sorry for?' he asked her gently, stroking her hair.
'For what my sister's done, for what I made do. For what she did to your
daughter.'
'Shh, love. Lauren's seen worse than that in her short life. For one thing,
she's seen her mother die. You have nothing to reproach yourself for, and
don't ever let me hear you do it again.'
She looked up at him, tear-stained. 'I love you. D'you know that?'
He hugged her. 'I was hoping
'What's going to happen to her, Neil? What if I don't press charges?'
'Those are the least of them, honey,' he said, sadly but truthfully. 'Even
if you don't, Lucy still has to answer to Ruth for the awful things she did to
John McConnell. She still has to answer to Glenys for Clarence Sparrow.'
'But she's crazy. She must be.'
'There's crazy and there's crazy. The law has its own definition.' He
paused, looking for and finding a handkerchief to dry her tears.
276
AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN
'Listen,' he murmured thoughtfully. 'Maybe I shouldn't tell you this but
the boss would do the same if he was here.
'There's a guy called Kevin O'Malley; he's a psychiatrist. Call him
tonight and put him on a retainer; it will be better for Lucy if he's on her
team.
'He's the best, and if he says that she is unfit to plead, or was suffering
from diminished responsibility at the time the crimes were committed, the
Crown is not likely to argue with him. If he wasn't working for you, he'd
probably be on their team, telling them the same thing, but best to be sure.
'Whatever happens, Lucy's going away, love. It's a matter of where and
for how long, that's all.'
He heard a diplomatic cough from the doorway, and swivelled round to
see Bob Skinner, returned, standing behind them.
'I heard that advice, Inspector,' he said. 'You were dead right. So right
in fact that I've already phoned O'Malley.
'Tell me something, Lou,' he asked. 'Have you got any of your own
money in this production?'
'Not likely,' she retorted. 'I'm Scottish, remember. Anyway, if they've
got me, they don't need my money. Why d'you ask?'
'Because the production's going to be on hold for
a long time. It'll take
them about three years to mend that broken window next door.'
79
Bob Skinner was late for work on the following Monday morning. It was
one of those rare days on which he felt slightly fragile, after the short
notice dinner party which he and Sarah had thrown the night before for
Neil and Louise, and Andy and Karen Martin.
He had just settled in behind his desk when his internal telephone rang.
'Come in and see me for a minute,' the Chief Constable asked. 'Unusual,' he thought as he crossed the hall. 'Why the summons?'
Proud Jimmy looked at him quizzically as he entered his office. 'Coffee?'
he invited.
'No thanks. I've got one across the hall.'
'Ah fine. Have you managed to mollify your pal the Lord President of
the Court of Session?'
'Just about,' Bob replied. 'I spoke to him on Saturday night. He's a bit
upset about the mess in his Great Hall, but he's pleased that everyone walked
away from it afterwards. The guy who's really pissed off though is Warren
Judd, the producer. He's having a hell of a time persuading his insurance
company to cough up for the reinstatement of the window. They seem to
think that he should have been able to prevent anyone bringing live rounds
on to his set.
'He's asked me to put in a word for him.'
'And will you?'
'Not for him, the little shit. I will for the window, though. It's a national
treasure and it must be restored.'
'What news of the girl?'
'O'Malley needs more time with her, but provisionally reckons that the
Crown will accept that she had diminished responsibility at the time of the
offences. They'll take pleas on two charges of culpable homicide, and she'll
go to hospital for however long it takes ... which as you and I both know,
could be for ever.
'That'll not be the case with Dan Pringle's job, though. Three of them
278
AUTOGRAPHS IN THE RAIN
are going down for life for that girl's murder, and one for the attempted
murder of McGurk as well, even though he didn't fire the shot.'
'How is the sergeant?'
'He's got a sore ear, but a change of underpants and the rest of the month
off with his wife and kid should see him all right.'
Skinner frowned. 'What did you want me for anyway?' he asked. 'Or
was that it?'
'No,' said Proud Jimmy. 'I thought you'd like to see this.' He handed
him a sheet of paper. 'The Scottish Executive Information Directorate are
releasing it at midday. Take it away with you and read it over your coffee.'
Skinner nodded and left the Chief's room, walking back to his own.
Settled behind his desk he picked up his mug and read the note.
When he had finished, he began to laugh... and laugh... and laugh. He
laughed so loudly that eventually his door opened, as Neil Mcllhenney and
Ruth McConnell came unbidden to investigate.
'Read that,' he said, choking as he passed the paper to the inspector.
Mcllhenney frowned, then did as he was told.
'Press release,' he began.
'EM Chief Inspector of Constabulary announced today that Assistant
Chief Constable Theodore Chase, of Edinburgh, has been appointed an
Assistant Inspector in his office, with immediate effect.
'Announcing the appointment, HMCIC Sir Ross Montgomerie said,
"Although he has been in Scotland for only a short time, Mr Chase has
impressed me greatly with his dedication to his duties and with his
appreciation of the traditional values of police work. He is a fine addition
to my team."
'Is this for real?'
Skinner nodded, still almost speechless. 'What an operator!' he said at
last.
'Who?' asked Mcllhenney. 'Chase?'
'No, you daft bugger! The Chief! How I would love to know what the
hell he's got on Montgomerie to have managed to pull this one off.' He
shook his head. 'What an operator!
'Oh, Neil,' he called out, his composure restored as his two assistants
left. 'Ask Inspector Good to look in on me, will you, please.'
I
80
The great bell rang midnight, amplified by loudspeakers all along Princes
Street. 'Happy New Millennium,' saidNeil. 'Last year was only a rehearsal,
you appreciate.' He kissed her, long and sweet, then kissed his daughter,
and shook hands formally with his son. Above their heads fireworks
exploded and cascaded from the Castle Rock.
Thanks for Christmas in Los Angeles,' he murmured in her ear.
'No,' said Lou. 'Thanks for this; it's much better.'
'Ah,' he muttered. 'This is all sweetness and light now, but wait for a
few hours. Last year they had three armed events in Leith alone, in the first
twelve hours of the year.'
'God, you coppers have a cynical view of mankind. How am I going to
fit into your life, I wonder?'
'I don't know,' he said seriously. 'How are you?'
'Like a glove. At the very least, I'm taking a long sabbatical from the
film business. You've got me for keeps, if you want.' She pressed her hands
to his chest. 'Don't worry,' she told him. 'I won't try to supplant Olive in
here. I know I can't.'
'No. So just be yourself; you've got your own place in here.' He nodded
at the children as they gazed up at the pyrotechnics in the sky. 'And in
theirs too. You don't need to be their mother; being you will be enough.'
He grinned, big and infectious. 'Hey, remember what you said a few
weeks back about me walking over your grave? Premonitions don't have to
be ominous, you know. Maybe what I was really doing was kick-starting
your future.'
She leaned against him. 'In that case ...
'Neil, I'm only forty-two, and these days, lots of women my age . ..
'How would you feel about that?'
He looked down at her, smiling, and drew her to him. 'We can but try,'
he answered in her ear, as the rockets soared and the crowds roared. 'My
love, we can but try ...'
Autographs in the Rain Page 38
