Fatal Transaction: A DCI MacBain Scottish Crime Thriller

by Oliver Davies

  I immediately put the call on speaker so Fletcher could hear, too, despite the fact that meant Alec would also be listening in.

  “And?” I asked.

  “Right now, it’s parked outside a building in the old warehouse district. I’m patched into the security feed nearby, but I haven’t caught any signs of movement yet, though the signal isn’t great. I’m sending you the address now.”

  My phone dinged, telling me Martin had just sent an email through, but I didn’t check it right away.

  “That’s great, Martin. Thanks,” I said. “Can you keep an eye on it for us and make sure it doesn’t go anywhere?”

  “Already on it,” Martin promised, and after that, we hung up.

  I set the phone down in the centre cupholder. “Well, we’ve gone from having too few courses of action to too many,” I joked.

  “What are you thinking?” Fletcher asked.

  I tapped my chin a couple of times, staring out the windshield. “I’m inclined to say we go after the fence. There’s a possibility the robbers have already come and gone or that they’ll bypass the place entirely, but we might learn something interesting by questioning the fence.”

  “But if we waste too much time on a stakeout that doesn’t go anywhere, and the security guard moves, we might lose him again,” Fletcher pointed out, and I nodded.

  “We also don’t even know if Smyth will still be with the van,” I said. “He may have dumped it and slipped out the back way.”

  “The van might still have clues in it,” Fletcher countered.

  “Do you want to know what I think?” Alec asked from the backseat.

  “No,” Fletcher and I said in unison.

  Alec sank back in his seat and crossed his arms, looking put out.

  “The van is a slightly surer deal,” I mused slowly. “But the fence would be a bigger risk but a bigger reward.”

  “It’s not like we can’t do both of them,” Fletcher said. “But I guess if we’re unlucky, we might still lose the second chance.”

  “So, which would you do first?” I asked her.

  “I think I’m inclined to go after the fence,” she said after she’d taken a beat to think about it.

  “Me too,” I agreed. I craned my neck around so I could look back at Alec once more. “So, where are we headed?”

  “If he’s still set up in the same place, he’s over in Scorguie,” Alec said. “If you give me your phone, I can type the address in.”

  I scooped the device out of the cupholder and passed it back to him after I unlocked it. Alec took a couple of seconds to find the map app and then quickly punched the address in before he handed it to me again. I glanced at the route briefly before giving the phone to Fletcher to navigate.

  I swung us around so we could cut through the city centre since we needed to cross the river to get to Scorguie. Traffic over the bridges was occasionally horrendous, and I wasn’t looking forward to fording it, although I supposed it would give us plenty of time to talk about our next steps if it was jammed up.

  “We need a plan of what we’re going to do when we get there,” I said as I got caught behind a red light before I’d gone more than twenty yards. “Or several plans, I guess, depending on what we find when we get there.”

  “Obviously, we want to stake the place out for a bit,” Fletcher began.

  “Yes,” I agreed. “We need to see who’s coming and going. Alec, you’d be able to recognise Carmichael on sight, right?”

  “I think so,” Alec said.

  I shot him a look in the rearview mirror. “I’d really like you to be certain about that.”

  Alec hesitated for a second, then said, “Yes, I’ll be able to recognise him.”

  “Great. So if we see Carmichael and his team, we go and confront them. We need to get them into custody and get the money back.” I eyed the red light, waiting for it to turn green, but it seemed determined to continue to vex me as other cars flowed through the junction in front of me.

  “And if Carmichael never shows or has already been there?” Fletcher wondered.

  “We’ll need to set a time limit on how long we’re sticking with the stakeout,” I said. “Then we go to question the fence.”

  “I could do that,” Alec suggested from the back. “Barron already knows me. He’d be more likely to talk to me than a couple of policemen.”

  “I’m going to say no to that one,” I told him quickly. The light finally, finally, turned green, though I couldn’t shoot through the junction like I wanted to as the car in front of me took its sweet time rolling forward.

  “What, you still don’t trust me?” Alec demanded. “I already told you. I hold the bonds of the I.O.U. as sacred. I’m not going to do anything to undermine you.”

  “You’ll forgive us if we don’t quite believe you,” Fletcher said. “You are a thief, and you did escape from police custody once, after all.”

  “I’m also your biggest asset right now,” Alec snapped. “And you’d be foolish not to use me however you can.”

  “Yeah, so you can jump ship and get a cut of Carmichael’s loot in exchange for leading us astray?”

  “Children, that’s enough!” I interrupted loudly, shooting glares at both Fletcher and Alec before I returned my attention to the road. “Please stop squabbling before I crash this car and kill us all.”

  Fletcher and Alec obligingly fell silent, flopping back in their respective seats with a huff.

  “Thank you,” I said as the GPS beeped and told me to take a left turn. “Alec, while it does make sense to send you in to talk to the fence, we don’t currently have any way of monitoring you, and I’m sure you don’t want us swinging by the station to pick something up.”

  Alec muttered something under his breath but didn’t disagree.

  “And I don’t just want to monitor you because I’m a little worried you’ll give us away, be that intentionally or accidentally,” I added when Alec opened his mouth to protest. “I want to be able to hear what’s going on first-hand and not just get a summary after the fact. I want to hear the man’s tone, see his expressions. That’s the best way to tell if someone’s lying.”

  “Besides, we wouldn’t go in as police,” Fletcher pointed out. “You can give us a few pointers, help us make a cover story, and we can pretend like we’re looking to use Barron’s services or something.”

  “You could maybe pass as a thief, but MacBain here screams bobby,” Alec said, smirking.

  “Ouch, rude. I do not scream bobby,” I protested.

  Fletcher gave me a face that said I kind of did.

  I huffed indignantly as we rolled to a stop at the light before the bridge over the River Ness. This was my least favourite junction in the entire city.

  “I say we stake the place out for four hours, and then, if we haven’t seen any sign of Carmichael, we head inside,” I decided once Fletcher was done sniggering at me. “Alec, you said that once Carmichael trades the money in, he and his crew usually scatter and go to ground. So we can’t waste too much time on a stakeout. Otherwise, we risk losing them.”

  “Four hours sounds like a good amount of time,” Fletcher agreed.

  The light swapped to green, and I joined the flow of traffic heading onto the bridge, my tyres trundling over the pavement as the River Ness rushed past below us, its current swift and strong from all the rain.

  “What do I do?” Alec asked as we reached the far side of the bridge and hit solid ground again. “Am I just supposed to sit in the car while you do all this?”

  “Basically,” I said peppily.

  Alec grumbled and crossed his arms even tighter.

  Once we were over the bridge, we had about another ten minutes to go before we reached the address Alec had keyed into my GPS. Scorguie was mostly residential, though there were a few department stores scattered amongst its streets. Barron’s place wasn’t in any of those, however. Instead, the GPS took us to a quiet, unassuming road that dead-ended by a patch of trees, the add
ress right at the very end of a row of townhouses.

  It was an interesting choice, having a fencing business in a residential area rather than an actual shop where it would be less noticeable if strange people were always coming in and out of the door. But I figured that people didn’t actually really track their neighbour’s patterns or visitors, not unless they were particularly obnoxious. We all lived in the little bubbles of our own lives, and most of us didn’t leave said bubbles unless something sharp popped them.

  I didn’t park directly across from Barron’s house but instead chose a spot a couple of doors down, where we would be less conspicuous if he happened to glance out the window. A few other cars dotted the kerb as well, so hopefully, we wouldn’t seem too out of the ordinary if we sat there for several hours.

  “Should have peed before we left,” Fletcher murmured, but she grinned at me when I shot her a sharp look. “Joking, joking.”

  I sighed and shook my head. Now that she’d mentioned using the bathroom, I was probably going to have to go in about half an hour.

  “Do we have snacks?” Alec asked as the three of us settled in to wait, but Fletcher and I ignored him. I wished we had snacks. I might have had a spare Curly Wurly stashed in the glove compartment for emergencies, but I wasn’t about to share it if I did.

  I turned the radio down low as I stared at Barron’s townhouse. I could still hear the music, but it was at a level where it wouldn’t get in the way if we needed to talk or suddenly heard something outside the car. I’d done plenty of stakeouts in my time, but that didn’t mean I liked them. They were boring like nothing else, but at the same time, you had to remain alert and focused, and that really wasn’t a good combination. At least this time, I knew we had an end time, rather than the endless sort of stakeout I was used to.

  We didn’t talk much for the first hour, each of us wrapped up in our own thoughts as we watched our mark. No one came in or out of the house during that time, and all the blinds were drawn, so I couldn’t see anything going on behind the windows either.

  At the start of the second hour, I began to grow a little twitchy, though it had nothing to do with boredom or how long we’d been sitting. No, I started to wonder if there were people staking out my flat just like we were staking out this place. My street was a lot busier than this neighbourhood, so the shadow organisation could stash a car anywhere along the road, and I might never know. They could be watching the station, or Fletcher’s place, or my mother’s, or Sam’s, and what was I supposed to do to keep them safe? It wasn’t like I could be everywhere at once, and if someone got hurt because of me--

  I sucked in a deep breath, barely able to keep it steady so it wouldn’t shudder and attract Fletcher’s attention. I wanted to get out of the car and get some fresh air, but that would defeat the purpose of the stakeout, so I was forced to stay within its cramped confines, breathing the stale air and listening to my two companions breathe.

  Fletcher glanced over at me, and she must have seen something in my face because her brow furrowed slightly. But with Alec in the backseat, she didn’t say anything, just patted my knee once and then returned her attention to Barron’s townhouse.

  Hour two ended with a car pulling onto the street and cruising past us, and all three of us perked up, our focus sharpening with the new stimulation. The vehicle parked close to the townhouse, and Alec leaned forward so he could get a closer look at the people climbing out, but they were both women, and they headed into the building across the way.

  Alec slumped back in his seat, and Fletcher and I deflated as well. We had a couple of other close calls like that as hour three tramped on, but each time, the people headed into a different building, and Barron’s townhouse remained as silent and still as ever.

  The fourth and final hour wound ever closer, and my stomach sank further with each passing second. I’d been hoping against hope that Carmichael would show up, and we’d be able to confront him directly, but it was starting to look like we’d missed him. We’d still be able to go in and talk to the fence himself, but that wasn’t quite as exciting as chasing down the actual robbers.

  But just as I was ready to give up and throw in the towel, a black car appeared on the street and rumbled right past us to the dead-end by Barron’s townhouse. Three of the doors opened almost at the same time, and a matching number of people stepped out. One of them glanced up and down the street before moving to the boot. He was the tallest of the three, and he wore his dark hair bound in a bun that sat low on his neck, though his back stayed to me most of the time, so I didn’t get a good look at his face. The other man was shorter and a little portly, and he stood by his car door after he shut it, wringing his hands together nervously as the woman said something to him that I couldn’t hear from this distance. She had blonde hair, and for half a second, I thought she was Lena Taggert, and my heart skipped a beat, but then she turned around, and I saw that her features were too sharp and her clothing too dark.

  “That’s him,” Alec breathed just as the tall man opened up the boot and pulled out a black duffle bag, tossing it to the portly man before he fished out a second one and passed that to the woman, selecting the third for himself.

  “And that’s the money,” I said. “Let’s go. Alec, stay here.”

  “But I can help--” he began, but Fletcher and I were already out of the car, and I hit the button on my fob to lock him in. He rattled the handle and called an insult after me as Fletcher and I rushed toward the robbers, not quite running but definitely not walking either.

  “Hey! Inverness police!” I yelled just as the robbers started walking for Barron’s door.

  The three of them froze in an instant. Carmichael spun slowly on his heel to face us as his companions panicked, dashing back to the car, though it was locked, and Carmichael no doubt had the keys.

  He dug them from his pocket and hit the button, popping the boot open. “Go,” he ordered, throwing his duffle at the portly man. It hit his chest and fell to the ground, but he fumbled it into his arms a second later and flung both of the duffles into the boot.

  “Dune, with me,” Carmichael continued, so the woman passed her duffle to the portly man and then fell into place with Carmichael as they moved to block our path to the car.

  “Fletcher, stop the driver,” I said tightly, and Fletcher nodded, breaking off from me slightly so she could try to round Carmichael and Dune and get to the vehicle.

  I picked up the pace, bouncing on my feet twice before I sprinted toward the two robbers, digging into a pocket for my PAVA canister. A butterfly knife appeared in Carmichael’s hand, and he deftly flipped it open, seemingly totally unconcerned about my fast approach, though Dune looked distinctly more nervous.

  Some kid had either lost or forgotten a plastic bucket when playing outside, and it had been blown into the street to rest against the kerb, so without breaking stride, I kicked it right at Carmichael’s face, or as close as I could get since it wasn’t exactly aerodynamic. Dune flinched and took a step back, but Carmichael stood his ground and let the bucket hit him in the chest.

  “Stop the woman,” he growled at Dune just as Fletcher was about to pass by the two of them, and she obligingly moved toward my partner, but I couldn’t see what went down between them as I crashed into Carmichael, one hand knocking his knife to the side while I held the PAVA spray in reserve. I couldn’t blast him with it while I was this close, not unless I wanted to get an eyeful as well.

  The two of us toppled to the ground, but Carmichael got a boot between us and managed to flip me over his head before I could pin him. I heard a car engine cough to life as I hit the pavement on my back, and I scrambled to flip over and get to my feet before Carmichael did. He was just a little bit faster, and he slashed at me with his knife while I was still standing. I jumped back, away from the silver blade, and brought my canister up, depressing the trigger with the nozzle pointed right at Carmichael’s face.

  He threw up an arm to absorb it and turned his head to the sid
e, staggering away from the invisible cloud. I saw that the portly man was trying to turn the car around, executing a hasty three-point turn in the street while Fletcher leaned back and snapped a painful-looking kick right into Dune’s head. Dune hit the ground, and Fletcher leapt over her to throw herself at the car. I tried to follow suit. Although I wasn’t entirely sure how two flesh and blood bodies were going to stop a car, I figured two would still be better than one.

  But before I could go two steps, a hand caught on the collar of my overcoat and yanked me back. I twisted as I stumbled, knowing there would probably be a blade coming for my kidney, and sure enough, Carmichael’s butterfly knife cut right into the fabric of my overcoat, narrowly avoiding my side. I immediately clamped an arm down on top of the knife, trapping it between my elbow and my ribs, getting it all tangled up in the folds of my coat.

  Carmichael cursed as he struggled to free the blade, and I threw an elbow, aiming at the sound of his voice. The blow connected soundly, and I heard his nose crunch, his stream of curse words going nasal as blood gushed down his face. I reached around and grabbed the wrist holding onto the knife, locking it in place as I spun around to face him, his visage bloody and oh so very angry.

  Over his shoulder, I saw the door to Barron’s townhouse open, and a tall, willowy man in a bomber jacket stepped out with a lighter in one hand and a whole bundle of fireworks in the other. He lit one of them up and threw it my way, and my eyes widened as I let out my own barrage of curses. I had no choice but to let go of Carmichael so I could dive out of the way before the thing hit me in the face.

  I rolled as I struck the ground, and the firework went off with a great bang a second later, sending yellow sparks flying through the air. One of them even pinged off the back of my neck, a flash of heat washing across my skin.

  I scrambled back to my feet, but Barron already had a roman candle pointed at me, and he wasted no time firing it off, forcing me to leap to the side once more to avoid it.

  “Let’s go!” I heard Carmichael yell, and I looked around wildly, trying to gauge the situation and figure out how to stop them from getting away.