Against the Clock by John Carson

Author:John Carson [Carson, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

‘I know how Stewart feels,’ Dunbar said as Harry took the car along Queensferry Road.

‘I’m assuming he means it when he said we might have to cross the line?’

‘Are you asking as a member of the team or a former Professional Standards officer?’

‘Christ, Jimmy, I left that life behind. I know how we work sometimes. I’m not averse to booting somebody in the bollocks if the situation requires it.’

‘Good to know. We both know how the courts are in this country. Slap on the wrist, but when some poor sod defends himself and kills his attacker, he’s suddenly a vigilante. It’s a load of shite sometimes, Harry, and this whole justice system needs overhauling. And don’t even get me started on light sentences for fucking rapists.’

‘I hear you, pal, but right now it’s the system we’re stuck with, so we have to navigate it to the best of our ability.’

‘Aye, well, God help anybody who touches my wee lassie, let me tell you.’

Harry felt the same way about his son, Chance, and his unborn child. He wondered how he would feel if it was a little girl.

He took Maybury Road and cut along Turnhouse Road by Edinburgh Airport. Old RAF housing was on the right as he slowed down, the entrance to the old RAF base now a business park. A dark-green house up ahead on their right was slowly being reclaimed by nature as trees grew where Harry was sure they hadn’t grown during the war.

A sign told them to turn left for Walter Scott Travel. They went past an airline catering group’s building on the left and Harry saw a couple of buses further up. Beyond that were trucks and vans for an aviation company that serviced vehicles and equipment used for the planes, like luggage conveyor belts and stairs. Men in dark-blue overalls were moving about as they did their jobs.

It was sunny when they got out the car, but a wind was coming off the airport. The runways were close. Harry and Dunbar stood and watched as a British Airways plane came in to land.

‘Can you imagine a Spitfire coming in to land there?’ a voice said from behind.

They both turned to see Mike Morton walking towards them. The man smiled and held out his hand. ‘Chief Inspector McNeil, wasn’t it? And Dunbar?’

‘Correct,’ Harry said, and he and Dunbar shook hands with Morton.

‘What can I do for you gentlemen today?’

‘We just wanted a word again. Just some follow-up questions,’ Harry said as a train went by on the Fife line.

‘Of course. Come into the office.’

They walked across the yard, where two buses were sitting out, gleaming wet in the sun. A hose and buckets were sitting at the front of one of the buses beside a long-reach brush. They were parked in front of an industrial garage with six large garage doors and an office area on the right side. Another small garage-type shed was attached at a ninety-degree angle and had three garage doors.

‘Maintenance shed,’ Morton said as he saw the policemen looking.

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