The Deep Dark Sleep

‘Listen, ladies, I warned you from the start that if I found out your father was alive, and where he was, then I could not withhold that information from the police. Now the police are all over this like a rash, and I don’t want to catch it. If they ask me, right now, if I know the whereabouts of Joe Strachan, I can tell them with absolute honesty that I don’t know. And that I don’t know for absolutely sure that he is alive. If you want my advice, I think we should leave it like that.’

‘But we want to talk to him …’ they protested in unison.

‘Let’s face it, ladies, he has been sending you that cash every year for eighteen years. If he wanted to make contact, then he would have before now. If you ask my opinion, and I’m sorry to be so blunt, that money is guilt money. I think your father always planned to disappear, to leave you and your mother behind, whether or not a copper was killed during the Empire Exhibition job. I believe he has a completely new identity in some other part of the country, or the world: an identity he was probably setting up since before you were even born. The only reason he is making his presence felt here in Glasgow again is because I’ve been sticking my big nose in where it’s not wanted.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘Accept that your father is alive, but not in a position to contact you. Keep taking the money and keeping your heads down. That’s my advice and it’s advice I intend to follow myself. By the way, I think it could be a matter of your safety as well.’

The twins looked outraged.

‘Our Daddy …’

‘… would never do anything to hurt us!’

‘Perhaps not, but I think there’s a chance he could have got involved with a very dangerous group of people. More organized, better resourced and more dangerous than any criminal gang. And they look out for each other, as I found out to my cost.’

‘What kind of people?’ asked Robert.

‘Military types. No, not even military types … more the “stay behind” guerrilla groups that were set up before and during the war. They were supposed to sabotage Nazi invaders, that kind of thing, but a lot of them were set up to deal with the Commies if the war should take that kind of turn.’

‘That doesn’t sound like our Daddy …’ said Isa.

‘Not like our Daddy at all …’ added Violet.

‘He wasn’t political.’

‘But you said that he was some kind of war hero in the First War?’

‘He was …’

‘He got medals for it …’

‘He went behind enemy lines and everything.’

‘But he was also nearly shot for being a deserter, isn’t that also true?’

‘That’s all lies …’

‘Lies …’ echoed Violet.

‘Listen, ladies,’ I said as gently as I could, ‘it’s easy, very easy, to build up someone into a hero figure when they’re not around. A lot that I have heard about your father, and everything I have experienced, leads me to believe he was or is a totally ruthless character. I don’t think he ever did anything that wasn’t in his own interest. I’m sorry, Isa and Violet, but I’m going to have to let this one go. And if I were you, I would do the same. This is one gift horse you shouldn’t be looking in the mouth.’

‘Could we talk to the witness you traced?’

‘That would be difficult to arrange,’ I said, without adding that we would need to hire a medium to arrange it. ‘I’m afraid he’s moved away. Permanently.’

Now for my big finale.

‘There is something else …’ I reached into my jacket pocket and took out the photograph. ‘I know it’s not a good photograph, and he will, of course, have aged since you last saw him, but can you identify this man for me?’

I felt a small electric thrill as I placed the photograph on the table in front of the twins. I watched their faces closely to catch the moment when they realized that they were looking at the father they had last seen when they were eight years old.

‘Oh my gosh …’ said Isa.

‘… of course we recognize him …’

‘… even after all of these years …’

I exchanged a meaningful look with Archie. I probably looked smug. I felt smug and I felt I had every right to feel it.

‘Yes … that’s Mr Williamson, all right.’

My smugness came to an abrupt end.

‘Sorry… what did you say?’

‘You asked us if we recognized him …’ said Isa.

‘And we do …’ said Violet.

‘That’s Henry Williamson, our father’s friend.’

I picked up the photograph and looked at it. Henry Williamson. Gentleman Joe’s non-crook friend and supposed First War buddy.

‘You’re sure?’

‘Positive.’

I pocketed the photograph again.

The twins spent a couple of minutes trying to talk me into contacting their father for them, but I wouldn’t budge and they gave in with amazingly good grace. I told them I’d keep half the cash they had paid me and handed them an envelope with the rest. They refused, saying that they felt they had put me at great risk and at the very least through a terrible experience and they insisted I keep the lot. We debated some more but they were steadfast and I was less so. When I walked out the door, I still had their cash.

Robert McKnight followed us out to my car.