Macbeth

Malcolm cleared his throat. ‘—Julia, if I didn’t help them to kill the chief commissioner,’ he read. ‘But now they have a hold on me and they’ve told me to perform other services for them, too. I know that for as long as I’m alive the threat to my daughter will always be there. That is why — and because of the shame I feel for what I’ve done — I’ve decided to drown myself.’

‘That is in fact true,’ Banquo said. ‘Only the signature on that letter can save your daughter.’

Malcolm turned to Banquo on the back seat. Stared into the muzzle of the gun he was holding in his gloved hand.

‘There isn’t any attempt on my life. You lied.’

‘Yes and no,’ Banquo said.

‘You tricked me into coming here so that you could kill me and dump me in this canal.’

‘You’ll drown yourself, as it says in the letter.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because the alternative is that I shoot you in the head now, drive to your house and then the suicide letter looks like this.’ Banquo passed him another sheet of paper. ‘Just the ending has been changed.’

‘For as long as my daughter and I are alive, the threat will always be there. That’s why I’ve chosen to take our lives and spare her the shame of what I’ve done and a life of endless fear.’ Malcolm blinked. He understood the words, they made sense, yet still he had to reread the letter.

‘Sign now, Malcolm.’ Banquo’s voice sounded almost comforting.

Malcolm closed his eyes. It was so quiet in the car that he could hear the creak of the trigger springs in Banquo’s gun. Then he opened his eyes, grabbed the pen and signed his name on the first letter. Metal rattled on the back seat. ‘Here,’ said Banquo. ‘Put them around your waist under your coat.’

Malcolm appraised the tyre chains Banquo held out. A weight.

He took them and wrapped them around his waist while his brain tried to find a way out.

‘Let me see,’ Banquo said, tightening the chains. Then he threaded through a padlock and clicked it shut. Placed the signed letter on the passenger seat and on top a key Malcolm assumed was for the padlock.

‘Come on.’ They got out into the rain. With his gun Banquo prodded Malcolm along the edge of the quay following a narrow canal that cut in from the main docks. Containers stood like walls on both sides of the canal. Even if people were out walking on the quay they wouldn’t see Malcolm and Banquo where they were.

‘Stop,’ Banquo said.

Malcolm stared across the black sea, which lay flat, beaten down and tamed by the lashing rain. Lowered his gaze and looked down into the oil-covered greenish-black water, then turned his back to the sea and fixed his eyes on Banquo.

Banquo raised his gun. ‘Jump, sir.’

‘You don’t look like someone intending to kill, Banquo.’

‘With all due respect, sir, I don’t think you know what such people look like.’

‘True enough. But I’m a fairly good judge of character.’

‘Have been up to now.’

Malcolm stretched his arms out to the side. ‘Push me then.’

Banquo moistened his lips. Changed his grip on the gun.

‘Well, Banquo? Show me the killer in you.’

‘You’re cool for a suit, sir.’

Malcolm lowered his arms. ‘That’s because I know something about loss, Banquo. Just like you. I’ve learned that we can afford to lose most things. But then there are some we cannot, that will stop us existing even more than if we lose our own lives. I know that you lost your wife to the illness which this town has given to its inhabitants.’

‘Oh yes? How do you know that?’

‘Because Duncan told me. And he did so because I lost my first wife to the same illness. And we talked about how we could help to create a town where this wouldn’t happen, where even the town’s most powerful industrial magnates would face trial for breaking the law, where a murder is a murder, whether it’s with a weapon or by gassing the town’s inhabitants until their eyes go yellow and they smell like a corpse.’

‘So you’ve already lost the unloseable.’

‘No. You can lose your wife and your life still has meaning. Because you have a child. A daughter. A son. It’s our children who are unloseable, Banquo. If I save Julia by dying now, that’s the way it has to be, it’s worth it. And there will be others after me and Duncan. You might not believe me, but this world is full of people who want what is good, Banquo.’

‘And who decides what is good? You and the other big bosses?’

‘Ask your heart, Banquo. Your brain will deceive you. Ask your heart.’