‘Thomas McGarry, my name is Detective Superintendent McAllister. I am detaining you on suspicion of a crime punishable by imprisonment, namely assault. Other than supplying me with your name and address, you are not obliged to say anything but anything you do say will be noted and given in evidence. You will be taken to Glasgow where your further rights will be explained to you. You will then be interviewed under tape-recorded conditions. Do you understand?’

McGarry had nothing more he wished to say at this particular point in time. He was paying little or no attention to McAllister but was preoccupied with the man standing just behind him holding his brown leather suit carry. A chill crept over him as he realised the enormity of the situation.

The bag!

While McGarry was being placed in the back of a police van, McAllister returned to his own car to make contact with Stewart Street Police Office. He intended to treat his prisoner as a maximum security risk and Stewart Street had all the necessary facilities. While he thought it was highly unlikely that anyone would seek to mount a rescue bid, this man had taken some catching and he was taking no chances.

By detaining him, he could only hold McGarry for six hours before he would have to charge him with something or release him. However, he had already made up his mind that he was not interviewing this man in a local police station.

As he reached his vehicle, two officers came rushing up to him. One was sporting a bullet-proof vest and a baseball cap bearing the logo POLICE. The other, one of his own sergeants, was carrying a leather suit carry.

‘Problem?’

‘Not exactly, Boss.’

‘What, then?’

‘I thought you might find this interesting. This bag was dropped by McGarry when he was snatched. We were searching it, and we found this.’

He opened up one of the side pockets. McAllister could see an object with a distinctive shape, wrapped in some kind of material.

‘You’re thinking the same as me, Boss. He couldn’t be so stupid.’

‘Or so arrogant. Get one of the boys over here with his camera. I want this examined now and the procedure photographed, every step of the way.’

‘Do you want to go to the office?’

‘No. We do it here, right now.’

Within two minutes, the photographer had arrived and indicated that he was ready.

The bag was re-opened, the package removed and slowly and carefully unwrapped. The repeated exploding of the flash gun confirmed that every detail was being recorded.

‘It’s a nine millimetre self-loading pistol. Browning. Do you wish me to check to see if it is loaded?’

McAllister shook his head at the stupidity of the question from a man authorised to carry a gun.

‘Get on with it.’

Rubber-gloved hands picked up the weapon which was handled with a degree of respect amounting almost to reverence.

‘Safety catch is on.’