‘Evidently, that was my mistake, trusting a bunch of useless fools on the outside with the simplest of tasks. Did I not pay you enough, perhaps?’

‘Give us a break, will you? We didn’t do a bad job of searching McCulloch’s house. In and out, twenty minutes, nobody any the wiser. If he’d had any more coins stashed away, we’d have found them. And as for him, you don’t have anything to worry about. He’s in a coma. People in comas don’t say much.’

‘They’re also known to come out of them.’

‘I don’t think that’s likely. We hit him pretty hard. He’s got something called an epidural haematoma. Bleeding on the brain. They’re operating on him even as we speak. Chances are, if he ever does wake up he’ll be a drooling vegetable, sucking on a tube for the rest of his life.’

‘You’d better hope you’re right about that. Because you’ve got just as much to lose as I have if he suddenly remembers who worked him over and starts blabbing. Next thing the trail leads back to me.’

‘That would never happen.’

‘Damn right it won’t. I want you to keep a close watch on things there at the hospital. If Ewan McCulloch so much as bats an eyelid or twitches a finger, I want to know about it. And then I’ll expect you to finish what you started. We’re not taking any chances here.’

‘Killing a man inside a hospital, that won’t be easy. Not with doctors and nurses coming and going twenty-four-seven.’

‘Don’t you watch the news? Medical staff kill patients all the time. If the National Health Service’s finest can do it, you can do it. I don’t care how it’s done. I just want him permanently out of the picture. Whatever it takes. Understand?’

‘I understand.’

‘That’s wonderful to hear. Now stop wasting my time, and don’t ever screw things up again. Not while you’re working for me. Or you’ll end up in a lot worse state than Ewan bloody McCulloch.’

Chapter 8

Boonzie left Belford Hospital with the dreadful image of Ewan, lying crumpled and shrivelled in bed covered with tubes and hooked up to machines, deeply imprinted on his mind. Dr Fraser hadn’t permitted him into the intensive care isolation unit and strictly allowed him only a few moments to peer through the thick glass window at his nephew inside.

A few moments were enough. He contained his rage as he walked outside into the windy, rain-slicked car park. Looking around for Duncan Laurie’s taxicab, he saw it was gone. The guy had obviously got tired of waiting.