Blood in the Water: A DCI Keane Scottish Crime Thriller Oliver Davies (my reading book .TXT) 📖

was what Shay had been waiting for. We both got up and headed for the stairs. Mads looked up as we went past.

“Off to search for the missing pack?”

In answer, Shay just put a finger to his lips and held up the tablet so Mads could see it. I gestured for Nielsen to stay where he was, and Shay and I slipped down the stairs. Outside the cabin door, we paused to check the tablet again. Verity was sitting on the bed. He’d already pulled quite a few little packages out of the pack, no doubt planning to stash them safely elsewhere for now.

Verity looked up, startled, as we walked in, but the hand that emerged from the bag was barely shaking as he levelled a pistol at me.

“Don’t be stupid,” I said, allowing a fitting amount of unconcerned, impatient annoyance to come through in my voice. “What do you think you’re going to do with that thing, Mr Verity? Shoot us all? I don’t think so.”

“Stay where you are,” he snapped. “I can just as easily blow out your kneecaps. I don’t need to kill anyone.”

“So, what’s your brilliant plan then?” Shay asked as he moved up to stand beside me.

“You swallow a couple of Brian’s pills each, and then I take the tender and disappear. Now, why don’t you just slip that jacket of yours off and toss it over here, Mr Keane? I don’t like the idea of you walking around with those guns in your pockets.”

“These?” Shay patted his jacket. “No, I don’t think so.” A wicked-looking little utility knife had magically appeared in his hand. “Conall, you’re prepared to swear I only killed him because I thought he was about to shoot you, right?”

“Sure,” I said, staring at Verity. “He hasn’t even got a magazine loaded. There might be a bullet left in the chamber, but I doubt it. Jordan would know better than to carry a loaded gun in his pack. Besides, the safety’s on too. It’s up to you if you want to try releasing it, Mr Verity, but you’re a dead man if you do. My cousin doesn’t like it when people point guns at me.”

I moved nearer and held out my hand. Verity made the sensible choice. He shakily handed over the pistol.

“Wise decision,” Shay told him, hardly snarling at all. “Keep an eye on him, Con. I’ll go and fetch something to tie him up with.”

Twenty-Four

We had quite a reception committee waiting for us when we got back to Stornoway. I’d been expecting a couple of Trish’s people to be there to take Verity off our hands but seeing Bernard Anderson himself on the quayside was quite a surprise. I didn’t have much trouble guessing who the silver-haired, straight-backed, older version of Mads Nielsen standing at Anderson’s side was either.

“You don’t think the Chief’s mad at us, do you, Con?” Shay hissed into my ear as he fidgeted nervously at my side. “I mean, we handled everything pretty well, all things considered, right?”

Anderson was wearing his unhappy headmaster face as Mr Daniels threw out the mooring lines, one after the other and willing, waiting hands tied them off.

“Probably not,” I mouthed back uncertainly as Mads came down from the flybridge to join us. It seemed far more likely that Anderson was just annoyed at having to talk to people he’d much prefer not to have to deal with. My stomach did feel a little heavy just then, though, and not because of the amazing lunch I’d overindulged in earlier.

Verity, who we’d untied and brought up as we made our final approach to the dock, stood quietly in my grip while Daniels clipped back the gate in the side rail and pressed the button that extended the little telescopic gangway out and down.

Chief Anderson gave us a silent nod as I handed Verity over to Ewan to take back up to Church Street. Mads and his father were greeting each other with a restrained hug and some mutual backslapping. I had no idea what they were saying, but Mads’ gestures towards us were enough to give me the general idea. The older man certainly took a good long look at us both before they came over.

“Inspector Keane, may I introduce my father, Herre Lars Nielsen,” Mads said.

“Pleased to meet you, Sir,” I told him as he gave me a firm, testing handshake and sized me up.

“And this is Mr Shay Keane.” Shay politely pushed up his glasses to look Mads’ father in the eye as he was subjected to an even longer measuring appraisal. Well, if Lars thought he could crack that coolly polite expression so easily, he was in for a disappointment.

“My deepest thanks to you both, gentlemen.” Herre Nielsen Senior had a deep and pleasant voice. “It distresses me to think of what may have happened if not for your timely intervention.” I settled for answering that with an acknowledging nod and another polite ‘Sir.’ I had no idea what Anderson may, or may not, have told him. Shay had already shoved his glasses back down and was staring unhelpfully at his feet. “Well, I shall look forward to a chance to speak with you both properly another time, yes? Doubtless, you have a great deal yet to do, and my son and I also have things to discuss. Come, Mads.” He strode up the gangway, and Mads cast us an apologetic little smile before following him back on board.

“Well, boys,” Anderson waited until they’d disappeared before addressing us. “You two have had quite a day of it, haven’t you?” His mouth twitched as Shay mumbled something about nobody diving off any cliffs. “No, Mr Keane, you’re quite right. I neglected to mention helicopters back then, didn’t I?” At least he seemed more amused than anything else. I’d noticed before that Shay generally had that effect on him for some reason. “Let’s all head up to Trish’s office, shall we? I’m rather looking forward to hearing your report,