Walloping Demijohns (aka Bike) et 619 by Angharad

“Just what the hell is going on?” asked the irate assistant chief constable.

“You tell me,” I replied.

“According to your story, you’ve killed or injured half a dozen men, been in possession of an unlicensed firearm, stolen a police car…have I missed anything?”

“My bow and arrows, which I’d like back–those I did pay for.”

“Oh yes, more offensive weapons.”

“You could add preserving the lives of my children and adopted father, plus saving the lives of two of your officers.”

“Why have you got to fight this gang war on my patch?”

“What do you mean, gang war? I’m the injured party here, I’ve been abducted, unlawfully detained and threatened, not to mention actual attempts on my life.”

“It’s that no good family you’re marrying into.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The bloody Camerons.”

“What do you mean, no good?”

“Well, no one accumulates millions honestly, or a peerage on the way.”

“The bank has been up and running for over a hundred years. It’s financed all sorts of things, including some of the developmental aircraft during the Second World War.”

“You seem well informed, how come you didn’t know the mafioffski were after you?”

“I thought the boys in blue were protecting us, seeing as we’d done nothing wrong except associating with Henry and Simon. I’m a university teacher, my foster kids are innocents, Tom is a university professor. As far as I’m aware teaching isn’t illegal yet.”

“Very funny. So what do you teach? How to kill with an AK47?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The gun you were spraying the road with, the AK47…” There was a knock on the door and a young policewoman gave him two pieces of paper. “Your personal tally has risen to nine, there were three bodies in the car that went into Loch Leven, and we’re investigating the place you say they held you. We only have to wait for the fire brigade to put the blaze out, it’s apparently gutted.”

“The swines.”

“What?”

“I left a whole pile of clothes there, including my childrens’ pyjamas.”

“We suspect human remains amongst the ashes. I don’t suppose you set the place on fire to cover even more of your apparently insatiable bloodlust?”

“As a comedian, I'd get another scriptwriter if I were you, because your current lines stink. I would like to see a lawyer, or advocate I believe you lot call them up here.”

“There is one waiting to see you. This interview is terminated.” He switched off the tape. I was incredibly irritated by this man, who seemed to be intent on jailing me while the Russian mafia, or who ever it was ran amok all over the place.

I had managed to call Henry briefly as we were on the way to Fort William, he told me not to say too much and he’d send someone to assist me. It turned out to be a rather feisty woman barrister called Fiona McLeod.

Within an hour, I had access to my girls and to Tom. Another hour and I was bailed–Henry put up the dosh, or stood surety for me, which I believe is the correct term.

However, with all that had happened and could yet happen, it struck me as ironic that the mafia attacked the police station about an hour after we’d left. They were looking for me apparently, and took the ACC hostage as they left.

I’d stopped at Marks & Spencers to get some clean clothes for all of us, courtesy of Fiona. She waited in the car, a rather nice Audi, while I dashed in and bought a selection of things for everyone. I spent nearly a thousand quid, mind you, I had two shop assistants help me carry it out to the car.

Henry had reserved rooms at the Rannoch Arms Hotel, so we had somewhere nice to stay. We were booked in under assumed names to make the efforts of the mafia to bump us off a bit harder. The object was that tomorrow he send up a convoy of people to take us over to Stanebury, which is apparently near Perth. I’d always thought that was in Australia somewhere.

There is a Perth in Scotland too, so I discovered today. A wonderful thing, education, Tom was pleased with his new underpants, I got him a selection of different colours, he wasn’t quite so sure about the flowery ones. I only got them to wind him up.

The girls were pleased with their new dresses, jeans and tops and pyjamas. I bought myself a new pair of jeans, trainers and pair of heels, to wear with the skirt and top I’d acquired from the Per Una section. His stuff is gorgeous.

We’d only been at the hotel half an hour, we were actually eating lunch when the police arrived. This time they were a bit more conciliatory. Henry had spoken with the Secretary of State for Scotland and also the First Minister of the Scottish Parliament, so a few things were cleared up.

However, this time the police were asking for my help. They wanted to recover their ACC who had been abducted.

“I expect they’ll want to swap him for Henry,” I said as I finished my lunch.

“No, it’s you they want.”

“I hope you’re not thinking of the exchange?”

“Of course not, but anything you can give us to help find them would be much appreciated.”

“There’s not a lot I can add to what I’ve already told you. They had these two 4x4s I saw as we left the house. One, I presume, ended up in the loch; I know nothing else. The men we met were all Brits, so I don’t know if there is a mafia connection. It strikes me as strange that they seem to be hunting Henry and Simon.”

I recalled the conversation I’d overheard. “It has to be the mafia, if I remember, when we had the attack last year, Henry told me that there were two factions who’d been vying to offer protection to his banking interests in Russia. One had been making a nuisance of itself by attacking us. The other lot offered to sort things out for him, and the next thing we heard, the one lot had dealt with the others. I learned later that meant eliminated the others. I was far from happy with this state of affairs, but if the guy who is running things lost some of his friends and family to the other bunch, he might well see it as Henry’s fault and try to do the same to him.”

“So what use is that to us?”

“I’d have thought there must be a copper in Moscow somewhere who knows what’s going on and if there was a survivor from the first lot.”

“Yes, get on that, Inspector Buchan,” barked the senior copper. A smart young man walked out briskly calling on his mobile as he went. “The Hampshire force would like your help to discuss your abduction, they lost four officers from their protection squad.”

“I’m sorry, that would concur with what I thought I’d heard, the men who killed them are probably dead.”

“Yes, if you didn’t get them, the Russians it would appear, were not leaving any witnesses for us to interview.”

“Did they actually attack your police station?”

“Yes, they ram raided us with two of our own cars.”

It was as much as I could do not to laugh.

“Then they fired shots into the air and we sort of surrendered. They pointed a couple of those rocket launched grenades at us, so heroics were out of the question, I’m afraid.”

“Well, discretion is the better part of valour,” I said using the old adage: if nothing else comes to mind, use a well worn cliché.

“Would you look at some pictures? We’ve had the Organised Crime Unit send us some photos. See if any of them were the blokes who kidnapped you.”

“Yes, if there’s somewhere safe to view them without being blown up or shot?”

“The army barracks, I’ve been told to use them, they have over a hundred men there at present, all of them armed and potentially dangerous.”

“And potential casualties. I don’t need to be told I’ve caused the deaths of dozens of soldiers, if they try to get me there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, if a mere girl can take out nine of them, what chance a company of experienced soldiers?”

“Quite good, if they have a helicopter.” I was looking at the one flying towards us as we talked. “Run, it’s got guns on it.” A fraction after I shouted, the place was in uproar as bullets began smashing through the windows and outer walls of the hotel. These guys were persistent, if nothing else.