The Last Witness (30 page)

They were in the trough now, the water an enormous wall of water that sucked the daylight from the scene. The grey of the next wave towered above them, the foam visible at the top as they were propelled upwards. Daley, now panicking, managed to lever himself from the seat, straining the safety harness that held him there. In Dunn’s seat he could see her harness had been ripped from its housing, and was now stretched across the deck and over the side of the boat.

He craned his neck to see over the side of the boat, and a flash of movement caught his eye. A pale hand gripped what remained of the harness. DC Dunn was alive, but she wouldn’t be for much longer.

Daley reached down, releasing the catch on his own harness. As the boat flew through the air, pitching wildly before the headlong plunge, the DCI threw himself to the side of the vessel, his arm outstretched.

38

‘Yer aboot tae make the biggest mistake o’ yer life,’ MacDougall roared at Machie, who had the pistol rammed against Sarah’s temple while pulling her head back at an awkward angle.

‘The biggest mistake I ever made wiz trustin’ a cunt like you, Frankie.’ Machie’s face was contorted, eyes flashing with fury.

MacDougall stared at the scene with horror, desperate to save his daughter from the man he knew would have no qualms about killing her. Then a shadow fell across the boat.

From out of nowhere, behind Machie and Sarah, a massive wall of water was rising. MacDougall tried to keep his face expressionless; this would likely be his last chance.

‘OK, OK,’ he shouted. ‘She’s mair important tae me than money. Just tell me whit the fuck ye want. Ye can take the lot, just let her go.’

Machie was about to speak, when he and Sarah were pitched violently forward. Prepared for the sudden swell, MacDougall propelled himself towards his daughter’s captor. Machie, caught off balance, tumbled backwards under the weight of his old lieutenant, his head bouncing off the wooden decking. MacDougall pressed home his advantage
by straddling his quarry, then aiming a clenched fist into his face. The pistol Machie had been holding spun across the boat, glinting dully in the low winter sun.

The pair wrestled as the boat plunged into the trough left by the rogue wave the whirlpool had created. MacDougall’s powerful hands encircled Machie’s neck as he battered his head into the decking with sickening thuds. Machie’s face turned beetroot and large veins on his temples bulged as MacDougall tried to squeeze the life from his victim.

As he felt Machie’s resistance slacken and saw his eyes beginning to glaze, MacDougall redoubled his efforts. He leaned close in to Machie, focused on the moment when he would see the life leave his body; he wasn’t prepared for the blow to his head that sent sparks through his vision and flashes of pain through his entire body.

He felt the world slide from under him as he lost his hold on Machie and tumbled sideways onto the deck, the pine planking streaked with rivulets of Machie’s blood.

MacDougall struggled to retain consciousness as he tried to work out what had happened. As he attempted to force himself from the deck, a kick to his chest propelled him backwards.

‘Stay where you are, Daddy.’ As he looked up, through a blur of pain, the vision of his daughter standing over him and pointing a gun at his head was plain enough.

Daley held onto his seat, all the time trying to keep sight of the slender white fingers that grasped the roping on the side of the RIB. He slammed against the inflated sides of the craft and bounced backwards, losing sight of his DC. Frozen water from the deck soaked his face and took his breath
away, as he flung his hand over the side of the vessel, blindly searching for Dunn.

As the RIB heaved again, Daley was pitched forward. He knew he had only moments left to save his colleague: there was no way she would survive when the boat crashed into the next trough.

As he was flung forward with the downward momentum, he grabbed a lump in the hard side of the vessel. His heart missed a beat when he felt a hand grasp his; he had her. He gripped Dunn’s wrist with all the strength he could muster and attempted to drag the wretched DC from the water. He managed to pull her slightly upwards but she appeared to be entangled in the ropes on the side of the RIB. Despite his strength, Daley couldn’t pull her free.

Dunn’s desperate expression burned into him, as the darkness caused by their plunge into the next trough engulfed the boat. His grip on her wrist began to loosen, the numbing cold and the slick water making it almost impossible for him to keep a strong hold of her.

A shadow passed in front of his eyes, as he watched Brian Scott propel himself out of his seat and grab Dunn by her shoulders. A split second later, his world went black as the RIB crashed back to the sea and his head hit hard against the metal deck.

39

MacDougall managed to pull himself into a sitting position, his back resting against the side of the vessel. In front of him, James Machie coughed and spluttered on his hands and knees, rubbing his red, finger-marked neck.

‘Don’t move, Daddy.’ Sarah’s voice was flat, emotionless.

MacDougall looked up into his daughter’s eyes. Her flaxen hair was matted across her forehead and her cheeks flushed by the bitter cold, but she was still beautiful. There was steel there, though, a coldness in her eyes he had never before witnessed. His head sank to his chest as tiredness, pain and a paralysing sadness overcame him.

‘No time for a nap, Frankie-boy,’ said Machie, dragging himself to his feet. He stood for a few moments, regaining his balance, then staggered over to Sarah MacDougall, who stood over her father, the pistol pointed at his head.

‘Please, Sarah. What—’ MacDougall wasn’t given time to finish the sentence, as Machie’s right boot caught him squarely in the mouth. MacDougall retched from the pain, and spat out his two front teeth in a puddle of blood and saliva. As he tried to focus, he looked up at the two shadows looming over him. ‘Why, Sarah? If you wanted money, all
ye had tae dae was ask’ was all he could manage to force through his ruined mouth.

‘
Why
, Daddy? That’s easy. I don’t give a toss about the money. In fact, I knew nothing about your grubby little deal until just now.’ Sarah’s voice remained calm, seemingly unaffected by the sight of her father lying injured and shivering on the deck of the boat. ‘You killed my brother, that’s why.’

MacDougall was desperately trying to hold onto consciousness. ‘Tommy? I only found out a few hours ago. I—’ Again, his protests were cut short.

‘Tommy?’ Sarah’s voice was incredulous. ‘Who the fuck cares about Tommy? He was an arsehole. I’m talking about Cisco, my brother Cisco!’ She screamed his name at her father, her usual composure replaced by desperate grief.

‘I didn’t kill him, Sarah. He was a fool,’ said MacDougall, blood flowing freely down his chin.

‘Oh no, Daddy, of course
you
didn’t kill him. You never do your own dirty work, do you? You left that to Gerry Dowie.’

‘Aye, yer ain boy. Fuck me, Francis,’ Machie said, a cruel smile on his face. ‘Ye see, fate is a wonderful thing. Yer wee lassie here stumbled across a guy who knew ma brother.’

‘Oh, I wondered when this wid a’ blow up,’ said MacDougall.

‘So ye know,’ said Machie.

‘I suspected. I hoped it wisnae true, but as soon as I heard there wiz this
ghost
wandering aboot taking revenge on me and mine, well, I knew the polis couldnae fathom it, but they didnae know whit I knew, did they?’ He looked up at Machie, still struggling to focus after the blows to his head.

‘She’s a smart wee girl, ye know.’ Machie carried on as though MacDougall hadn’t said a word. ‘She’s been running a great business o’er the last few years – tobacco, drugs – made a small fortune. A real chip off the old block, aren’t ye, darlin’?’ He enveloped Sarah’s shoulders in an embrace.

‘I hate you, Daddy.’ Her look was poisonous. ‘You made my mother’s life a misery, and you killed my lovely brother. Gerry’s arsehole son-in-law told me; all it took was a few bags of heroin.’

‘So you believe the word of a hopeless junkie?’ said MacDougall, his voice distorted by the loss of his teeth. ‘Aye, makes sense, JayMac – turn everyone against me. As though killing ma boy wisnae enough.’

‘Aye, you’re the man, Frankie.’ Machie laughed. ‘Pity a’ yer family are no’ so smart.’ His gaze flitted between MacDougall and his daughter.

‘What do you mean?’ Sarah looked at Machie. ‘You told me that Gerry Dowie had Cisco killed, on my father’s orders.’

‘I’ve telt ye lots o’ things, darlin’.’ Machie’s stare was blank, suddenly devoid of any emotion and pitiless, like the predator he was.

‘Oh, and I suppose you know about what Gerry’s son-in-law told Cisco?’ Sarah said, looking less confident.

‘That’s the trouble with people like you,’ said Machie, pushing Sarah from his side. ‘Yous all think that just cos ye’ve got a few qualifications, an’ somebody telt ye that ye were smart, that other people are a’ stupid, and therefore of no consequence.’

‘Fuck you,’ said MacDougall, blood bubbling from his mouth.

‘Oh, don’t you worry, we’ll come tae the fucking shortly,’ Machie replied, leering at Sarah.

‘I’ve only ever cared about two things: Cisco and the truth.’
It was Sarah’s turn to shiver as she looked from Machie to her father. ‘Cisco told me you didn’t care, that you wanted him to leave well alone. He knew something wasn’t right.’ She stared at Machie. ‘He told me that our great-aunt said you had a twin. He knew he was in danger; it was all in his letter.’ A tear slipped down her cheek. ‘Do any of you ever tell the truth?’

‘Listen, Sarah,’ said MacDougall, his voice a rough whisper. ‘I begged yer brother to leave a’ this alone – begged him – ye must believe me. He told me he’d heard that Machie was still alive. Like the arse I am,’ he said, staring up at the man who had supposedly come back from the dead, ‘I didnae believe him.’

‘Aye, more fool you.’ Machie laughed. ‘Ye’ve got the same problem as yer daughter, here. Ye a’ think yer right a’ the time.’ He smiled patronisingly at the young woman who still levelled a pistol at her father’s head.

‘Will somebody tell me the truth,’ she repeated, her hand shaking under the weight of the weapon.

‘I think I can have a guess,’ said MacDougall, spitting blood onto the deck. ‘In fact, it’s no’ just a guess. That useless piece of shit that married Gerry’s daughter telt a’ who wid listen. I wish I’d listened mair carefully. But ye cannae blame me; I mean, who wid’ve thought he wid’ve been stupid enough tae come back.’ He continued with a rueful smile. ‘Yer new partner here tracked doon his own twin brother and persuaded him to help him with a wee problem; then, instead o’ the two o’ them living happily ever after in a life o’ brotherly love, wi’ plenty dosh, drugs an’ women, he made sure the stupid cunt would never tell the tale by blowing his heid aff!’

‘No!’ Sarah shouted, looking at Machie. ‘You told me that my father and Gerry Dowie killed the man they thought
was you in cold blood, and that you were lucky to survive. You said they had Cisco killed because he found out they were behind the ambulance attack and needed to protect their new identities.’

‘I wiz lucky tae survive,’ said Machie, his voice patronising. ‘Dae ye think dear old Daddy here wouldn’t have tried tae have me slotted in the jail? Nah, there wiz no way I wiz rotting in there, watching ma back fir thirty years. Fuck that.’ He smiled at MacDougall. ‘Ironic thing is, years ago, your auntie Marion wiz the one who gave me the clue. Telt me how I’d had a twin brother, an’ my poor dear mother could-nae afford the baith o’ us, so wan o’ us got sent tae the country tae distant cousins, or some fuckin’ thing. Guess I drew the short straw.’

‘Aye, an’ poor Marion paid the price fir that, ya bastard,’ MacDougall shouted, with all the venom he could muster.

‘Ye know fine how auld women gossip, Frankie.’

‘Aye, so you killed yer ain brother, but that wasn’t enough, was it?’

‘Come on, did ye really think I wanted yer boy runnin’ aboot tellin’ a’ who wid listen that I was alive an’ kickin’?’

‘There ye are, darlin” MacDougall’s voice was quiet again, and there were tears in his eyes. ‘James Machie killed yer brother. Oor Cisco.’

When Daley came to, the sound and fury at the heart of the whirlpool had abated. He was lying on his side in the recovery position, shivering despite the silver thermal blanket draped over him. His head was aching, and his right arm felt as though someone had tried to pull it off. He remembered DC Dunn, and forced himself to sit up. ‘Dunn, is she OK?’

‘Aye, Jim, she’s OK.’ Scott’s familiar voice was reassuring. ‘She’s a wee bit battered, but alive an’ kickin’, thanks tae you, pal.’

Daley focused on another silver blanket, which enveloped a pale DC Dunn. She smiled weakly at him. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she croaked. ‘You saved my life.’

‘We’re through the worst, you’ll all be glad to hear,’ said Newell. ‘Since you were incapacitated, I had to make the decision to carry on through Corryvreckan, then out the other side. There was nothing to be gained by trying to turn back. If I’d known the conditions were going to be as bad as they have been, we’d never have left port. We caught an unexpected flare in the damn thing. It can happen – saw it once in the China Sea. Mind you, I was in a bloody destroyer at the time, not this glorified beach ball.’

‘What now?’ asked Daley through chattering teeth.

‘I’ve called the Coastguard. They’re sending a chopper from Glasgow. It shouldn’t be too long. You and DC Dunn will be evacuated to hospital,’ said Newell, sounding every bit the Royal Navy captain.

‘Dunn, yes,’ said Daley, ‘but I’m going nowhere. Brian, get me the radio, will you? I need to talk to the Coastguard.’

‘Wait a minute, Jim, yer no’ in good nick. Ye’ve lost a bit o’ blood, an’ it’s fuckin’ freezin’ oot here. Me an’ the boys’ll chase Machie an’ MacDougall.’

Daley eyed his DS. He looked wet, cold and miserable, but there was something in his face he didn’t recognise. ‘No, no, Brian, I’ll carry on. We’ve got the chance to put this nightmare to bed now, once and for all. I’m not missing this opportunity. Now get me that radio,’ he said, forcing himself to his feet.