Page 154 of Better the Devil

The blue lightsof Police Scotland 4x4s pulsed across the front of the bothy, and started up the slope of Devil’s Point. The mountain loomed in the darkness beyond, silent in its judgement.

As silent as the HAWKS members being loaded one-by-one into the vehicles.

As silent as the corpse that lay in there on the bothy floor.

The Uniforms, on Hamza’s orders, had battered through the door when the shotgun had fired. By the time they were inside, Curtis Neil was already on his knees, his hands behind his head, the weapon discarded.

And Sergeant Gavin Fleck, in the end, had got most of what he wanted.

Logan stood at the front of one of the off-road vehicles, letting the heat from the rumbling engine take some of the chill from his bones. Overhead, the stars were all gone now, swallowed by the clouds.

Hamza was hard at it, directing the Uniforms, keeping things running, making sure the work got done.

As he always did.

‘Jack?’

The voice made Logan stiffen. He turned to see Bosco Maximuke wrapped in a blanket, blinking in the glare of the 4x4’s headlights.

‘I… I want to thank you. For what you did. For saving life,’ the Russian said. ‘If not for you, then?—’

‘Bosco.’ Jack buried his hands in his pockets. Deep down. All the way. Too deep to do any damage. ‘Do us both a favour, and get the fuck out of my sight.’

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

‘Rough night, boss?’

Tyler dumped his bag on the floor by his desk, and was halfway through taking off his jacket before he realised the Big Board had been stripped bare.

‘Oh! Shit! What? Did we miss it?’

Sinead, who had entered the Incident Room a couple of paces behind her husband, stopped when she saw the look on Logan’s face.

‘You OK, sir?’ she asked. ‘What happened?’

And so, he told them. About Bosco, and the bothy, and Sergeant Fleck’s involvement in the murders.

About his plan, and his motive.

About his death.

Curtis Neil had been arrested, along with the other members of HAWKS who had gathered to watch Bosco Maximuke face Fleck’s brand of justice. Curtis had already confessed to pulling the trigger on Kendrick Crichton, and slitting the throat of Victor Belov after Fleck stunned him with a blow to the skull.

He denied any knowledge of a woman being at the scene. His girlfriend, Cassidy, claimed not to know about it either.

It would all come out in the wash, Jack was sure.

The banker, Archie Howden, hadn’t been present in the bothy. He’d been picked up in his office at the Caledonian, where he’d babbled out a story about how he hadn’t wanted to get involved with the relocation of Eleanor Belov’s fortune, how he’d been forced into it, how he hadn’t been left with any choice.

Maybe there was some truth in that. Maybe there wasn’t. Either way, his banking days were over. Probably his free man days, too.

‘I can’t believe we missed all that!’ Tyler cried. ‘We just fell asleep in front of the telly watchingJunior Bake Off.’

‘What about the money?’ Sinead asked. ‘Eleanor’s millions?’

Logan deferred that one to Dave Davidson, though his answer wasn’t exactly conclusive.

‘Dunno. Might well be lost.’