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van,’ muttered Marshall.
    Grant ignored him. ‘So, the plan is, when they move – if they move – we decamp into the Customs vehicle and follow them at a discreet distance. Is that agreed?’
    â€˜I’m up for it,’ replied Watson, a gleam back in his eye.
    â€˜All we have to do is wait,’ said Marshall. ‘This will be a feather in all of our caps, gentlemen.’
    Grant stared gloomily at the Douglas Arms. Arresting his father-in-law might improve his prospects for promotion, but it certainly wouldn’t make for a good start to married life.
    Stay in there and get drunk and prove this pair wrong, the police sergeant prayed to himself, just as the pub’s front door swung open and the distinctive blue cloud of pipe tobacco wafted out onto the street and was carried away on the wind.
    â€˜There! Father’s there!’ exclaimed Maggie. She was at the mouth of the close opposite the Douglas Arms. ‘Who’s that with him? That’s not Hamish.’ Sure enough, a tall man with a neat haircut was shrugging on a grey raincoat in the pub doorway. He and Hoynes were laughing at something, both looking somewhat unsteady on their feet.
    â€˜Did you ever,’ said Beth, peering over Maggie’s shoulder. ‘The pair o’ them are three sheets tae the wind.’
    As the three women, remaining hidden, looked on, more figures appeared in the doorway.
    â€˜There’s Hamish. No show withoot Punch, right enough,’ said Marjorie. The first mate was with another man in a gabardine raincoat, slightly stockier, but just as smart as the other stranger. ‘Whoever their freens are, I don’t like the look o’ them. Is there no sign o’ Duncan, Maggie?’
    â€˜No. I’ve not seen him yet.’
    â€˜Och, he’s likely incapacitated in oor new Land Rover,’ said Beth. ‘Likely tied up, or drugged, so they can spirit him off, the poor soul.’
    â€˜Steady on, Beth. My man’s no’ a monster. I can see him fillin’ big Duncan full o’ whisky, but I don’t think they’ll get tae the druggin’-and-tyin’-up stage jeest tae make him compliant.’
    â€˜You’ve great faith, Mother,’ said Maggie, clearly not convinced that her father wouldn’t resort to such means.
    A small man in a cap was last to leave the Douglas Arms. He was searching in the pockets of his shabby overcoat.
    â€˜And there’s my Geordie. I don’t know how many times I’ve telt him tae bin that bloody coat. No’ fit tae grace a tattie-bogle.’ Beth looked on as her husband produced something from his pocket. ‘Aye, that’s him found the keys noo.’
    â€˜I can’t see any sign of your Land Rover, Beth,’ said Maggie.
    â€˜They’re fly buggers. They’ll have it parked in the backyard o’ the County, oot the way. My Geordie won’t take too much drink if he’s tae drive, but he widna pass wan o’ they new breathalyser tests the polis is using noo. They’ll have parked up oot o’ sight.’
    â€˜In that case, we better get going. If they’re parked at the County, they’ll need to pass here. If we sit in the motor, up the Well Close, we can follow when we see them.’ Maggie shook her head. ‘If they’ve done anything to my Duncan . . .’
    â€˜Received, Constable,’ said Grant into his radio. ‘They’re getting into a Land Rover in the car park of the County Hotel, five of them. We can identify Hoynes, Hamish and Geordie, but no idea who the other two are.’
    â€˜That’ll be their contacts,’ said Watson. ‘Smooth-looking operators, if ever I saw them. Not from around here, at any rate. And certainly not fishermen.’
    â€˜We have to be careful not to be spotted,’ said Marshall. ‘Will you take the wheel, Sergeant? You know the area better than me.’
    As Grant started