S Bolton - Sacrifice

'We really need to know exactly where that money is coming from.'

I took the phone from her and dialled the number of the bank. When I gave Duncan's name the girl queried me immediately and I thought the game was up. I turned away from the phone, faked a sneeze and then turned back.

'Sorry,' scuse me. Yes, Duncan Guthrie.'

'From your password, Mr Guthrie, can I take letter number three?'

Fifteen seconds later I was through security. 'I've been going through my account; first time for months, to be honest, and there are things in there I can't remember setting up.' I broke off to fake a fit of coughing. 'I was wondering if you could just explain some of the entries for me?'

'Certainly, what are you unsure about?'

I quoted a number and an amount. There was a moment's silence while she checked.

'That one is a monthly direct debit to Body Max Gym and Personal Training, Mr Guthrie. Do you want to cancel it?'

'No, no, that's fine. Must start using that gym. But I've also got myself a bit confused about some of the monthly retainers I get from clients. There's one referenced CK0012946170. Can you confirm where that comes from…?'

Another short pause. 'That payment is referenced from the Tronal Maternity Clinic'

I said nothing. The seconds ticked by.

'Mr Guthrie? Is there anything else I can help you with?'

'What?' hissed Helen beside me. 'What is it?'

'No. Thank you, that's great. Thank you very much for your help.'

I put the phone down. 'Tronal,' I said. 'It's all about Tronal.'

Helen's eyes flickered over my shoulder to the window. She jumped up, crossed the room and stood looking out. Then she leaned over to the wall, switched out the light and went back to the window. I didn't like what I could see on her face. I got up too. Dana's study looked down towards the harbour. Three police cars had pulled up just below us on Commercial Street, lights flickering but sirens turned off. As we watched a fourth car joined them.

'Can't help thinking that's something to do with you,' said Helen.

Arrest me.'

'What?'

'Arrest me. If I'm in your custody they can't do anything.'

She took her eyes from the window for a second. Almost seemed to be thinking about it, then gave a slight shake of her head.

'We're on their patch. It won't work.'

'If you leave me with them, they'll kill me. Like they killed Dana. It will look like an accident, maybe suicide, but it will be them. I hope you remember that.'

'Get a grip!' Helen pushed past me, back to the desk. She shut down the computer programme and folded up the laptop. Then looked over her shoulder.

'Do you have a car?'

I nodded and she led the way as we fled the house. We went out through the back door, just as we heard hammering on the front. She locked the door, glanced around the small walled garden and set off. I followed. When we reached the top, Helen climbed on to a large terracotta planter and peered over the wall into the next garden. Then she leaped up, scrambled for a few seconds and disappeared.

'Swing the bag over,' she ordered softly. I did so, then climbed over myself. I wasn't as stealthy as Helen but a couple of seconds later I was on the same side of the wall. We set off, heading uphill in the direction of the car park, but the only way out of the second garden was via the lane where the police would be waiting. The wall was lower in this garden, and at the top we were able to hide behind a lilac bush and look over. Three uniformed constables, a man in a brown leather jacket and another, much taller man whom I was pretty certain was Andy Dunn all waited outside Dana's front door. As we watched, one of the constables ran at the door and it buckled inwards for the second time that day. The police disappeared inside the house; Helen and I leaped over the wall, ran up the lane, climbed a short flight of steps then ducked left through a stone archway into the car park. We ran to my car and climbed inside.

I was pulling out of the car park when in my rear-view mirror I saw lights flick on upstairs in Dana's house.

'THEY'LL EXPECT US TO HEAD FOR THE AIRPORT,' SAID Helen. 'They'll be watching the road south.'

She was right, and even if we made it to Sumburgh, we could hardly just park and wait for the first plane. Well before daybreak, the people who were looking for me would have every airport, every ferry port covered.

My stomach churned. Helen was a good ally to have: she was gutsy, intelligent and not easily intimidated; but I didn't think even she could hold out against the entire Northern Constabulary for long once they found us. And finding us would be the easiest thing in the world. There are just so few roads on Shetland; disappearing into a complicated labyrinth of back streets was simply not an option. If we were to avoid being picked up in the next hour we had to get off the roads.

'I can't get a helicopter out here until morning,' she said. 'What time is dawn?'

'About five a.m.,' I replied. In summer I often rose that early to ride my horses before work. Now, there was a thought. Helen was drumming her fists against the dashboard, obviously thinking hard.

'Tora, listen,' she said after a second. 'I can't start flinging accusations around about a senior police officer without a lot more proof than we have already. We need more time.' She looked at her watch. 'It's almost two,' she said. 'Can you hide us for three hours?'

I thought of going home: not good, practically the first place they'd look. I thought of going back to the hospital: plenty of quiet areas this time of night but I'd almost certainly be recognized. I thought of cruising downtown Lerwick, looking for an all-night cafe or even a nightclub: potentially quite a good idea, except I was pretty sure there weren't any. Helen and I couldn't hide amongst people; there simply weren't enough of them on Shetland.

'Can you ride?' I asked.

Fifteen minutes later I was parking, for the second time that night, some way down the hill from our house. Charles and Henry heard us coming and trotted over to the fence. A few Polo mints each and they were perfectly amenable to being tacked up. I was a bit anxious about Charles's leg; dealing with a lame horse in the middle of nowhere wasn't a prospect I relished, but it seemed to be healing well and as long as we took it easy it should hold up.

Dana's laptop, the books from her desk, our money and Helen's mobile went into two saddlebags; everything else we had to leave behind. I helped Helen on to Henry then climbed on to Charles. The horses were excited about the prospect of a moonlight outing and skittered about. Helen sat rigid, her knuckles white against the reins. As we set off I felt a pang of misgiving; riding at night isn't a British Horse Society recommended activity, especially over rough ground with a barely sound horse and an inexperienced rider.

Our property is on the hill above Tresta and I was able to guide us through a field and out of the village before we turned on to the main road; which was probably just as well, because I don't think I'd ever appreciated what a racket the hoofs of two large horses make on a tarmac surface. Fortunately, Charles was walking well forward, excited about his first real exercise in a week, but setting a good pace that Henry was happy to follow. I wanted to trot, to get off the road as quickly as I could, but I didn't dare risk it until Helen felt a bit more confident. I could hear her swearing softly to herself as Henry's hoofs slid on smooth tarmac or clattered against loose stones.

As we moved east from Tresta we lost much of our light. The moon disappeared behind a cloud and the hills seemed to close in around us. We reached the point where the road is cut through the rock of the hills. Neither Helen nor I had much night vision yet and even the horses were struggling. I've always hated the feeling when a hoof slides along the road and a quarter of the horse sinks beneath you, and I had a pretty good idea of what Helen must be going through.