CHAPTER 10- BATTLE SCARS

Frank sat in the Accident and Emergency waiting area at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary. The main doors opened and shut periodically, admitting a medley of people with shocked, worried faces, each completely immersed in their own personal tragedy. The silence in the room was punctuated by the occasional approach of wailing sirens, interspersed with anxious murmurings. The waiting room was glass-fronted and Frank stared blankly at the darkness outside. Night had fallen again somewhere along the way.

Joe had been rushed into theatre on his arrival to have the knife removed from his arm. The physical damage had been repaired, the lost blood had been replaced. Joe was going to be fine.

Frank had been with him when he had first woken up. Joe hadn't been able to meet his eye. Frank didn't know what to say to him. They had sat in silence until their father had arrived, then Frank had made his excuses and left them alone. Their father had gone again, some two hours ago, pausing on the way out to give him a 'Well done for everything, keep an eye on Joe' talk. Then he'd rushed back to see how the questioning of the suspects was going. Frank smiled sadly. He hadn't stopped for long enough to realise what was going on between the brothers. He didn't know if he was sorry or glad of that.

Frank hadn't gone back in to Joe's room. He'd been sitting in that waiting room ever since, unsure what to do, feeling physically sick and battling a growing sense of loss.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and turned his head. 'Sam! How's Stevie?'

Sam plonked herself down beside Frank and sat back. 'He's getting kept in under observation for the night- he's still seeing double. Bastard gave him a proper smack to the head. His wife's arrived finally. I left them to it.'

Frank raised his eyebrows. 'Huh. I kinda thought you two might actually be married, the way you bicker!'

Sam stuck out her tongue 'Yuk. No. He's my partner. Work partner. That's all.' She looked round at Frank's worried face. 'Joe will be fine, you know. He just needed patched up a bit. At least he better be fine, or I'll be so fired for taking you two with us.'

Frank smiled weakly. 'I know he will be. Everything's just…such a mess.'

'You mean between you two?'

Frank looked at her, surprised. He snorted. 'Yeah. That obvious?'

'Well if I'd just been stabbed I'd be squealing for Stevie to come and hold my hand, not pushing him away and telling him to leave me alone. It wouldn't matter who the hell was watching! I was under the impression you two were pretty tight but I guess not.'

Frank paused for a moment, not sure if he wanted to talk about it. Then he figured it couldn't hurt. 'Usually we are. He's my best friend, not just my brother. We've been through a lot together.'

'Yeah, believe it or not some of your captures are used as case studies at the Scottish Police College. Most officers who've joined in the last couple of years know about you. And you took down Al-Rousasa.'

Frank was stunned. He hadn't expected that. 'Well, yes.' He said, embarrassed.

'So what's gone wrong?' Seeing Frank's hesitation, Sam shrugged. 'You don't have to tell me. It's OK. But being in the police, we have to be able to talk to anyone about anything at any time. You spend most of the time trying to sort out people's domestic problems to be honest. I'm agony aunt come social worker come person who batons you on the head. So maybe I can help….Also, I'm also nosey and I just want to know. It will go no further. '

Frank smiled. Sam was no-nonsense, foul-mouthed and in-your face but he liked her.

'OK.' He took a deep breath. 'Joe's had a bad time. You know about Al-Rousasa. Did you know he murdered Joe's girlfriend?'

Sam shook her head, looking appalled.

'He blew her up. Joe blamed himself. He's been…not good….for months. But he's been getting better. He was just starting to be more like himself. Then, just before we came here, he overheard my girlfriend saying he was too dependent on me, that I was going to spend my life running about after him and never do what I really want to do. That she wanted out if I didn't stop spending time with him. And he heard me say I didn't find it easy. And that I had to look after him.' Frank shut his eyes, cringing, imagining how hurt Joe must have felt. 'So now he says he wants out, wants to go off and do his own thing so he knows I'm doing what I really want to do. So I don't have to take care of him anymore. And I guess it hurt me when he said it and when he wouldn't discuss it, and I've been saying things I regret to him ever since.' He laughed grimly. 'I'm just pushing him further away. Now we're barely speaking. He won't even let me help him when he's been stabbed, for God's sake! Some brother I am.' He put his face in his hands for a few moments, tears pricking his eyes without warning.

He felt Sam's hand on his shoulder. He waited, expecting some wise, sympathetic words.

'So basically you're telling me you're both idiots.' She said.

Frank raised his head in surprise. Then he smiled resignedly. 'I guess that would be a fair appraisal.'

Sam smiled at him sympathetically, her grey eyes twinkling. 'Right. OK. I could be way off but I'll say it as I see it. Neither of you are kids and you appear to work together fighting crime- so you're partners. Who happen to be brothers. Right?'

Frank nodded.

'And I'm guessing you're the older brother?'

Frank nodded again.

Sam smiled. 'So that's maybe part of the problem. I would say if it's always him leaning on you and always you looking out for him, that really isn't healthy. That's not a partnership. He'll always be the little brother, never get the chance to grow up and stand on his own two feet. If you're partners you have to be equals. So does it work both ways? Can you lean on him too?'

Frank blinked a couple of times. 'For sure…..Okay, it's been one-sided of late. Since Iola died. But I know it's not usually. I'd turn to him before anyone else, no contest.'

'Hmmm. So when things get tricky with the bad guys, do you stand shoulder-to-shoulder or do you stand in front of him to protect him.'

'Shoulder to shoulder. Every time.'

'Good! That's the most important thing. Perhaps you need to draw a line in the sand, as it were. Tell him from here on, now he is doing better, you're going to give him more space. Tell him you're there if he needs you but don't just…hang about, waiting for him to fall apart. You'll have a stroke before you're 20! Save it for when he gets, you know, stabbed and so on…when he really does need support. And remind Joe you rely on him too if it's not gone that way for a while. If he feels like he really is leaning on you all the time it has to be bad for his self-confidence, which will make him lean more. Vicious circle.'

Frank sat back, leaning his head against the wall. Sam made a lot of sense. He sighed deeply. Maybe he was permanently set to over-protective big brother mode these days. That could be hard to change.

'Could you replace him?' queried Sam. 'As a partner I mean, obviously you couldn't as your brother.'

'No.' The answer was immediate, there was no doubt.

'OK. Could you replace Callie?'

This time, Frank hesitated. He loved her, but with the current state of affairs he couldn't really say 'no'.

'Let me answer that one for you, then. If it's not a resounding 'no', it's a 'yes'. You're a good looking guy, smart, not short of cash I should imagine. If I was ten years younger you'd need a pointy stick to beat me off with. Yes you could replace her. There are girls out there who would understand your relationship with Joe. Try a cop!'

Frank reddened, surprised and flattered. He shook himself and re-focused the conversation on Joe. 'So you reckon it's fixable. It's not fundamentally unhealthy. If I back off a bit and let him stand on his own two feet we could still have a good partnership.'

Sam nodded.

'I always used to think we were fine. But Callie and Joe have me doubting it. We're just so tied up in each other. It must be affecting the way we work. Mustn't it? I don't know other people as close as we are. Without being married or something.'

'Er. OK. Do you know many police officers?

'Yes. Well, to speak to, not really personally. My dad was one.'

'But now he works alone.'

Frank nodded.

'Well, I've had a few partners. As in work, not sex. That's another story…. Having a good partner makes all the difference. Some partnerships work and some don't. Stevie Muldoon is the best. At the start of the shift, once we're briefed and out in the car, we talk. We catch up with every little thing that's happened since we were last together. We talk TV and politics, about who we're sleeping with and how good they are at it. We talk about stupid things we've done, we talk about mistakes and dying parents. Anything. No subject is off limits and we tell each other everything. Not because we have to, we just want to. We're as close as two people can be. And that doesn't mean I want to sleep with him. Far from it- he is so not my type! It just means he's my partner and the partnership is working. I know him better than his wife does.

Some folk just do not get it. Facing danger together, having to know you can rely on each other no matter what happens, working as a team without even having to think about it. And picking each other up off the floor when it all goes wrong. It does make you close. People on the outside think it's weird. But they have no frame of reference. For them danger is paying the electricity bill the day their supply is going to get cut off. Excitement is a game of football. They just don't get it! It's their problem, not yours.

And me and Stevie's crime solvency figures are proof that a good partnership works. We're at 85%.'

Frank smiled. 'If we sort this thing out, Joe and I will still be on 100%.'

Sam's jaw dropped. 'Jesus! I thought me and Stevie were the best! Okay then. If you two are that good together for God's sake stay together! But it has to be as equals, not one of you propping up the other constantly. Talk to him. Agree on some boundaries you're both happy with.'

Frank shook his head. 'Easier said than done. He's made up his mind. I can't even get him to talk about it.'

'Why do you think that is?'

'Because he's a stubborn idiot.'

'No, really.'

Frank looked at Sam, then down at his shoes. 'Because it's too hard. I hurt him. And I guess he knows there's truth in what was said and he thinks he has the answer to the problem already.'

'And also maybe because he knows you can talk him out of it so he can't let you try? So make him let you try. Convince him of what you really do want. Fight for your partnership if it's what you want. Change what you have to change. Don't give in and throw it all away.'

Frank shook his head slowly, then looked at Sam. Why had it taken a 30 year old Scottish police woman who drove like a banshee and had only known them for two minutes to make him see the obvious?

'You're right, you know that? What do you charge for therapy?'

'Beer. Buy me a pint once this is over.'

Frank raised an eyebrow questioningly.

'No, I don't mean a date! You are well above average in the looks department. Both of you are! But, like I said, a bit on the young side for me. I meant come out on a police night out with all the guys on the team. I promise not to bite.'

Frank smiled at her. 'Deal. But what is it with everyone here and beer?'

'It's a social thing. Don't you drink?'

'Not much.'

'Oh well, I think you're OK anyway. Oh, hold on a minute.' Sam put her hand up to her earpiece, listening to a message. 'Roger, I'll find out.' she said into her radio.

'None of the suspects are talking, surprise surprise! The girl, Kay McLeod- she says she will. But she'll only speak to Joe. Shall we go see what state he's in?'

….

Joe was lying on a hospital bed in a private room. He was propped up on some pillows, staring at the wall. He felt like crap. His arm really hurt, worse than it had done when the knife was still in it. He wished Frank was with him. He'd have come up with something to say that would make him laugh, make everything better. But he had to show Frank he could manage without him, even when he was hurt.

There was a knock at his door. 'Come in' he croaked. The door opened. It was Sam.

'Hi. How you doing, tough guy?' she said, looking sympathetically at his arm.

'OK. Where's Frank?'

'Hiding outside your door, like a big girl. He wasn't sure you'd want to see him.'

'Oh.' Joe looked down. He did want to see Frank, more than anything. But the solid wedge that was forming between them could only make things easier for Frank in the long term. He could see Sam was waiting for him to say Frank could come in. But he said nothing.

After a moment, Sam said 'OK then. Kay McLeod. The girl from the Range Rover. She's at St Leonard's Police Station in the centre of Edinburgh. She's refusing to talk. But she says she'll speak to you. It's totally up to you. Don't do it if you're not up to it.'

Joe didn't hesitate. 'I'm up to it. Just give me five minutes to get dressed.'

'Sure. And Joe'

'Yeah?'

'Give Frank a chance. Listen to him.'

…

St Leonards Police Station was a strange and unattractive modern building at the edge of Edinburgh's Old Town. Its unattractiveness was magnified by its proximity to solidly attractive 19th century sandstone tenements. It was constructed from red brick and screamed 'small factory'.

Frank, Joe and Sam were directed to the third floor when they arrived. Joe was wearing a black police jacket, a spare one of Stevie's, over his bloodstained t-shirt. His own jacket had been beyond the point of salvage and he had left it in the hospital. Frank eyed him with concern as he slowly climbed the stairs in front of him, holding on tightly to the bannister with his good arm. His other arm was in a light sling, mostly to remind him not to use it. It had taken 50 stitches, internal and external, to mend the stab wound caused by James McLeod and his knife. Frank caught himself, remembering his conversation with Sam. Was he being the over-protective older brother? He looked again at Joe. No. He was right to be worried. Joe had just had an operation and should be taking it easy in hospital. But Frank hadn't voiced his concerns and he wouldn't. Joe was an adult and could decide what he was up to by himself. Not that he would have listened anyway.

'She's in here.' Sam said, pointing to a door at the end of the hall. 'You okay going in yourself? She's been searched, she's not armed.' Joe nodded. 'Right, we'll wait in the office next door.'

Joe knocked on the door then went in. Kay was sitting inside, leaning on a table. She was with a police woman who looked about the same age as him. 'Joe Hardy?' she said. He nodded. 'I'll leave you two to it.'

Joe waited while the policewoman went out, then sat down across the table from Kay. 'Hi.'

'Joe, I'm sorry. Sorry for everything.' she whimpered, looking at his arm, tears in her eyes.

Joe frowned, unimpressed. 'You say sorry a lot. Are you okay?'

'I don't know.'

Joe found himself wanting to back off entirely, her repeated betrayals at the front of his mind. 'You wanted to talk to me.' He said, his voice stern, challenging.

'Yes.'

Go on.'

'Please don't be so cold! Can't you see I like you?'

Joe's eyes widened in indignant disbelief. 'You have to be kidding! Kay, I tried to get you away from him. TWICE! You handed me right over to him! You like me!? For God's sake, you waved a gun in my face a few hours ago so, no, not really, I can't see that.'

Kay looked down at her hands, ashamed. The tears began to flow unchecked.

Joe shut his eyes for a second. He was going to have to be nice for the sake of getting information, if nothing else. He took a deep breath and tempered his tone. 'Why me, can I ask?'

'You said the first kind words I've heard in a while. I just wanted to try to explain things. What I did.'

Joe nodded. 'I'm listening.'

Kay took a deep breath. 'My mum died four years ago.'

Joe blinked, taken aback at the apparent shift in conversation. 'Sorry. How?'

'Fell from Midnight. The black horse.'

'Sorry.'

'Dad never recovered. Started drinking. Gambling. Lost the farm.'

'But…you still live there, don't you?' said Joe, confused.

'Sort of. Some Americans bought it. Never been over as far as I know. Just wanted to own the castle, I think. Why would anyone buy a farm when they didn't want to farm?' Joe shrugged. 'So we stayed.' Kay went on. 'Dad kept drinking. More and more.'

'When did he start hitting you?'

She started at his direct question. 'He always had. Mum kept him away from me most of the time. He hit her too. But after she died….I just got it all. My uncles moved in with us- Dad's brothers. They did the same.'

Joe closed his eyes, sympathy starting to re-emerge. What a miserable existence Kay must have had. He steeled himself, wanting to remain objective. 'So what can you tell me about what's been going on?'

'About 6 months ago the boats started coming at night. First I knew of it was when that Ed Campbell sent my dad and my uncles up the quads and the cars, so we could pick up the merchandise and deliver it to him in Cambusside. He even got us that hole of a flat to stay in. I don't even really know who he is or how dad knows him. He just kind of appeared in our lives.'

'What's the merchandise, Kay? What were they bringing in?'

'I don't know. Just boxes. All different things I think. Some were light, some were heavy. Then there was that man.'

'What happened to him? Where is he?'

'I don't know. Dad dropped me off at the flat at Cambusside. He and my uncles went off to deliver the batch of boxes and the man to Ed. Then they reappeared with Ed- I don't know what they'd done with the man. And Uncle Bill wasn't with them anymore, I don't know where he is either. I'm so sorry, Joe, I wish I could tell you more. If I ask anything, Dad just….well, you know.'

Joe nodded and smiled gently at Kay, looking at the fading bruises on her face. He was softening again. She really was so beautiful and had had such a hard life. He could understand her actions to an extent- she'd been terrified. 'Why did you help us?'

'It didn't seem to matter when it was just me getting hurt. But that poor French man, then Dad tying you two up to drown. He went too far. I'm sorry I didn't do more. I was just so scared of him.' her face crumpled again.

Joe put his hand on her arm. 'Kay, I can't pretend to understand some of the things you did. But thank you so much for getting us out of the sea. That was genuinely impressive and I'll never forget it. You've got it in you to be so brave. Please, try to hold on to that. You're safe now. You can have a fresh start.'

She smiled sadly. 'I don't know what I do now. All I ever wanted to do was work on the land. But I won't be able to stay at the farm now. I'll lose Midnight. End up somewhere like Cambusside.'

'I'll see if we can help you, okay?'

She smiled again, then looked intensely into his eyes, green eyes tinged with hope. 'You got a girlfriend?'

Joe hesitated, taken aback. 'No. Well, there may be someone but…it's complicated.'

'Would you ever think of going with someone like…me?'

Joe's found himself tongue-tied for a moment, then said 'Kay, you wouldn't want to get involved with me. I'm always late for dates, I flirt with anything that moves. I'm not great boyfriend material.'

Kay looked crestfallen. Joe felt terrible. He tried a less flippant answer. 'OK, you're beautiful and for all you kept siding with that monster of a father of yours, for some reason, I still like you. But we're strangers. I don't know you at all. You don't know me. And it wouldn't be fair- you're so vulnerable right now it would be like taking advantage.'

'No it wouldn't. I know what that is- it's happened to me all my life. It would be like finally giving me something I really want.' She paused 'Maybe that's why I find you so attractive. I can see some vulnerability in you too.'

Joe reached over and stroked her face gently. He still felt drawn to her, he couldn't explain why. But it would be wrong, for many reasons. 'I'm sorry. I'm just…. such a mess right now. Stuff has happened and….. and you don't need your life any more complicated than it is. Do you understand?'

Kay smiled sadly and nodded.

'Will you speak to the police? Please? Tell them what you told me?'

'Okay.' She nodded. Joe got up to leave the room. 'Wait, Joe, I remembered something else.'

'Really? What?'

'I think the merchandise might have been for some biker gang. Dad mentioned some group once that sounded like a biker gang anyway…..The Assassins.'