CHAPTER THIRTY
The police filed onto the early train for Arbroath in the dark hours before dawn, each man carrying his staff and holding his tall hat under his arm. Unusually for the Scottish police, every fifth man sported an Enfield rifle. Because of the seriousness of the crimes, Mr Mackay took personal charge, issuing quiet orders that saw the officers fill the carriages.
“It’s like a military operation,” Duff approved.
“We’re after an ex-soldier who did not hesitate to murder one of his own,” Watters said. “We’ve whittled down his g**g, removed his followers and the man who made him money. Now we’re after him.” He touched the butt of the revolver within his coat. “I don’t want Gow to escape this time.”
“No, Sergeant.”
“Are you both armed?”
Duff and Scuddamore nodded and showed t
