CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Arriving in Edinburgh, the men followed the directions to the small rental property on the water. On another day, they would have enjoyed visiting the ancient Edinburgh Castle, walking the Royal Mile to Holyrood Palace and Abbey, seeing the monument to the loyal and faithful Greyfriars Bobby.
But today wasn’t a day for sightseeing. Today, they were hoping to catch a psychotic killer. With the support of local law enforcement and Scotland Yard, the men made their way around the Royal Botanic Gardens, then along the A903.
When they hit the Granton Castle walled gardens, they knew they were close. Lady Bishop knew her way around the city and had definitely chosen places she would be familiar with.
As they parked the cars in a long row, the men carefully stepped out, following the local law enforcement. When the Scottish officers turned, seeing the weapons, they all stopped, grinning at the men.
“And just how did you come by that, lads?” asked the captain.
“We have a special permit, sir,” smirked Zulu.
“Aye. I know of yer special permits, you big beastie,” he grinned.
Zulu could only chuckle at the man’s humor. He was quite a beastie himself. Easily six-feet-three and two hundred plus pounds, he had a head full of reddish-brown hair and dancing, laughing brown eyes.
“We want her alive if possible,” said Brix.
“We’ll give you leeway on this,” said the man. “Away you go.” He nodded down the long drive, and the men carefully made their way until seeing the lone house on the beach.
“Eyes up,” said Brix. “Everyone goes home.”
Deirdre woke with a raging headache from the whiskey she’d indulged in last night. It was supposed to be one complimentary drink, but after the first burning taste, she decided she needed another, and another, and another.
After a hot shower, she used the electric trimmer to shave her hair close to her head. She actually liked the look of the new sleek style. She pulled on the new trousers and a sweater, then made some toast and tea.
It wasn’t even six a.m. She’d slept well but woke early for some reason. She thought about not leaving the cash for the rental property but didn’t need the local law after her as well as the others.
With her breakfast consumed, she caught the rays of sunlight peeking over the water. Scotland had breathtaking views, and this was no exception. Today, she needed to put some miles beneath her feet and get to the north. If her research was correct, she should be able to reach Aberdeen and catch the ferry to Orkney Isle, where she might be able to pay a fisherman to take her across the North Sea to Bergen. If she were lucky, she’d be able to avoid the customs officials and find her way into Sweden.
It was a good plan. A solid plan. She just needed a little extra luck today. Taking one last look around the small home, she felt good about having wiped everything down and left through the back door.
Following the path along the beach, she made her way to Gipsey Brae Recreation Grounds, where she’d parked her car. With dozens of others there as well, hopefully, it would be lost in the mix.
Turning, she looked back at the little house one more time. In another life, at another time, she would have thought of the little home as a castle. It was perfect for just her. She might have to suffer through such accommodations again at some point, but eventually, she would be back in a manor house, or better yet, a castle, soon enough.
Pulling the collar of the sweater up around her neck, she bared the cold winds and kept moving.
“Just keep moving.”
“We breach on my call,” said Brix. Holding his hand up, he nodded at the local law enforcement. They were all well-trained and looked at the man with reverence. Slowly counting down, his last finger went down into his fist, and they rammed the door, breaking the lock with ease.
From room to room, they searched the small cottage and then met back in the little kitchen. Sebastian reached out and touched the kettle on the stove.
“It’s still warm,” he said, frowning. “She can’t be more than twenty or thirty minutes ahead of us.”
“Which way would she go?” Brix asked Hiro and AJ. AJ opened his laptop, but Hiro walked toward the small desk by the window and opened the old computer.
“Give me a second,” he said, diving into the computer. “She researched ships just like we thought. Fishing vessels, oil rig workers, anything going north.”
“Why north? She’s more noticeable that way. Why not move south toward Portugal, Morocco, or Algiers?” asked Major.
“She needs to hide,” whispered Hiro, staring at the screen. “These ships would accept payment under the table and get her to… Norway. She’s going to Norway. She’s taking a ferry from Aberdeen to Orkney Isle, then a ship to Bergen, Norway. The terrain is so dense, we’ll lose her for sure if she gets there.”
“Then we can’t let her get there,” said Brix.
“Lads, I hate to say this, but there’s nae easy way to get to Aberdeen. Two-lane highways, that’s it.”
“We need a hydrofoil,” said Tiger. The men all stared at him. “We need a speedboat to get to Aberdeen before her.”
The Scottish officer stared at him as if he were crazy, then laughed, nodding his head.
“I heard ‘ya bastards were crazy. Aye. I’ve got a speedboat for you. Pin down yer kilt, lads. We’re about to get wet.”