grunted. ‘Good excuse to cancel the whole thing. A lot less hassle – traffic control, undercover drugs surveillance . . .’
Fleming gave him a look of exasperation. She’d been prepared for awkwardness, ready to work towards their old easy relationship, but he was just being bloody-minded. ‘For heaven’s sake, Tam, we were all young once! At least I certainly was, and I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt.’
‘If it’s cancelled, we’ll still get the morons arriving anyway, just ettling to cause trouble.’ MacNee was determinedly morose. ‘Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.’
‘You’re a right little ray of sunshine today, aren’t you? Maybe the rain will stop and the river will go down.’
She had hoped he might respond in kind, but MacNee only pointed through the windscreen where, beyond the frenetic wiper activity, all that could be seen were banks of purple-grey cloud.
For Fleming, patience had never been one of the easier virtues. Be like that, she thought and, switching to professional mode, said, ‘Anyway, do you have any background on Gillis Crozier?’
MacNee shrugged. ‘Not a lot. He comes and goes to London. We’ve certainly not got anything on file. I took a wee look after I’d a call from my pal Sheughie in the Glasgow Force a while back, saying the name Rosscarron had come up and asking if one of the big boys on his patch was hanging round here.’
Fleming raised her brows. ‘And was he?’
‘If he was, he wasn’t selling tickets. But there’s maybe more to Crozier than meets the eye. Suddenly he’s in the building trade – makes you wonder . . .’
‘Indeed it does. And this new pop festival too – it’s pretty low key, and he can’t be expecting to make big money from it. But that’s another perfect way to launder cash, with all the casual payments. Let’s put some feelers out. We’ve a few CHISes around who might know something, haven’t we?’
‘If we’re allowed to speak to them any more, with all these new regulations,’ MacNee said with some bitterness. ‘In the old days I could have picked my pub, bought one of the grasses a wee quiet bevvy and found out everything I needed to know.’
‘Covert human intelligence sources, not grasses. That’s an offensive term.’ Fleming was getting tired of MacNee’s attitude. ‘You know damn well that cosying up to villains led to money changing hands in the wrong direction – there were far too many scandals that way. In any case, nowadays in some circles getting hold of a gun’s not a lot more difficult than buying a pint of milk and CHISes need serious protection.’
‘Cloak-and-dagger stuff,’ MacNee sneered. ‘Just a word over a pint would be less obvious. Here! I wonder where they’re away to in such a hurry?’
They were just coming past the end of the road to Kirkcudbright Police Station when a badged car, lights flashing, pulled out ahead of them.
‘Will I check in and find out?’ MacNee leaned forward to the radio, but Fleming groaned.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t go looking for trouble! If we’re really needed they’ll call us in, but if we’re not, I don’t want to feel obliged to offer support. I’ve enough to do today without anything extra.’
‘Fine,’ MacNee said, elaborately moving his hands back. ‘You’re the boss.’
The words ‘Too right I am’ sprang to her lips, but Fleming managed not to say them.
The police car sped off and vanished, while Fleming drove at a more sedate pace along the road south, watching for the unmarked side road leading to Rosscarron.
‘It’s one of these places you’re not meant to go to unless you know where it is,’ she was complaining, when she saw the first AA temporary sign saying, ‘Rosscarron Music Festival.’
‘Maybe if we took it down, they’d all give up and go home.’ MacNee earned another exasperated glance from his boss as she turned off again at the next sign.
This road, even narrower, ran
Fleming gave him a look of exasperation. She’d been prepared for awkwardness, ready to work towards their old easy relationship, but he was just being bloody-minded. ‘For heaven’s sake, Tam, we were all young once! At least I certainly was, and I’m prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt.’
‘If it’s cancelled, we’ll still get the morons arriving anyway, just ettling to cause trouble.’ MacNee was determinedly morose. ‘Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.’
‘You’re a right little ray of sunshine today, aren’t you? Maybe the rain will stop and the river will go down.’
She had hoped he might respond in kind, but MacNee only pointed through the windscreen where, beyond the frenetic wiper activity, all that could be seen were banks of purple-grey cloud.
For Fleming, patience had never been one of the easier virtues. Be like that, she thought and, switching to professional mode, said, ‘Anyway, do you have any background on Gillis Crozier?’
MacNee shrugged. ‘Not a lot. He comes and goes to London. We’ve certainly not got anything on file. I took a wee look after I’d a call from my pal Sheughie in the Glasgow Force a while back, saying the name Rosscarron had come up and asking if one of the big boys on his patch was hanging round here.’
Fleming raised her brows. ‘And was he?’
‘If he was, he wasn’t selling tickets. But there’s maybe more to Crozier than meets the eye. Suddenly he’s in the building trade – makes you wonder . . .’
‘Indeed it does. And this new pop festival too – it’s pretty low key, and he can’t be expecting to make big money from it. But that’s another perfect way to launder cash, with all the casual payments. Let’s put some feelers out. We’ve a few CHISes around who might know something, haven’t we?’
‘If we’re allowed to speak to them any more, with all these new regulations,’ MacNee said with some bitterness. ‘In the old days I could have picked my pub, bought one of the grasses a wee quiet bevvy and found out everything I needed to know.’
‘Covert human intelligence sources, not grasses. That’s an offensive term.’ Fleming was getting tired of MacNee’s attitude. ‘You know damn well that cosying up to villains led to money changing hands in the wrong direction – there were far too many scandals that way. In any case, nowadays in some circles getting hold of a gun’s not a lot more difficult than buying a pint of milk and CHISes need serious protection.’
‘Cloak-and-dagger stuff,’ MacNee sneered. ‘Just a word over a pint would be less obvious. Here! I wonder where they’re away to in such a hurry?’
They were just coming past the end of the road to Kirkcudbright Police Station when a badged car, lights flashing, pulled out ahead of them.
‘Will I check in and find out?’ MacNee leaned forward to the radio, but Fleming groaned.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t go looking for trouble! If we’re really needed they’ll call us in, but if we’re not, I don’t want to feel obliged to offer support. I’ve enough to do today without anything extra.’
‘Fine,’ MacNee said, elaborately moving his hands back. ‘You’re the boss.’
The words ‘Too right I am’ sprang to her lips, but Fleming managed not to say them.
The police car sped off and vanished, while Fleming drove at a more sedate pace along the road south, watching for the unmarked side road leading to Rosscarron.
‘It’s one of these places you’re not meant to go to unless you know where it is,’ she was complaining, when she saw the first AA temporary sign saying, ‘Rosscarron Music Festival.’
‘Maybe if we took it down, they’d all give up and go home.’ MacNee earned another exasperated glance from his boss as she turned off again at the next sign.
This road, even narrower, ran
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