"It wis thon lassie Friday," the shamelessly brass-knecked Rab Ha' continued to perseverate, but Maister McNab corrected him: "you mean WPC Mountcastle," and Rab continued: "aye, hur, she hud it in fer moi, ever since thon time at Netherdale, when me'n ma pal Deke Schmendrick wis at the gemme wi Leithen Rovers, ye'll ken Deke? used tae be in goal fer Fairydean," and McNab nodded: "lang streak o piss, him? wis keeper fer twa matches, but sacked efter Coldstream pit eleeven in the net – why, even their goalie scored, fae his own goal-mooth!" at which Rab was silent for a moment, then said: "well, Deke and moi went doon at Pie Time fur wur pies," and McNab clarified: "hauf time?" as Rab went on: "there wis jist a Baker's Dozen, we wis gey lucky, so ah bagged ma usual dozen and Deke the thurteenth, an we wis jist gaun up again when this lassie said: "nae pies left?" an the seller telt hur: "they twa goat the last thurteen," an she follered us up tae the stands an asked if she an her pal could buy twa aff us, an oo politely telt 'er whaur tae shove it, we'd nane spare, an we wis jist feenishin when the gemme restarit, an next thing the hale staund wis roarin oot: 'wha ate aw ra pies, then? thae twa greedy fat men!' which wis a cruel insult tae Deke an it wis aw thon wummin's fault that it caused wur Centre-Forward tae hesitate an miss his only chance o a goal in the hale 90 minutes! an she stertit persecutin me efter thon, it wis criminal, it wis," but Maister McNab shook his heid: "nah, nah, Rab, yer story stinks tae high heaven, either yer a damn fine actor or yer a paranoid pie an knicker snatcher, when ye slipped yer jaicket thon nicht, she hud ye bang tae rights, an nae amoont of self-justification wud hae persuaded a Gaulie jury itherwise; as ah said – Jethart Justice? nae sic a thing!" and that was when, in their corner, away from the glare of the Train Crew's lanterns, which illuminated the spectacle Teri and Jasmine had witnessed, along with the other passengers, of Rab Ha's uncomfortable confrontation with the Engine Driver – who did, indeed, resemble Arthur Askey, Jasmine whispered: "I've just got confirmation from The Economic Migrant – the pair who were looking for us in Elginbrod's Archive were Tris Kaidekaphobia, as we suspected, and Duncan Doubleday," and Teri gasped: "the Deputy Chief Constable?" and Jasmine nodded: "the very one," then showed Teri the night-vision photo the young Syrian refugee had sent; it was a bit like looking at an x-ray, all dense blacks and luminous whites, but the faces were pin sharp and the Bulgarian assassin was wearing his Panama hat; just then, there was an overhead flicker and the carriage lighting came on, producing a weary cheer from the passengers – apart from Fat Rab, the now quite knackered-looking Gala Glutton, whose sickly green face was streaked with tears of shame, sweat, and grease "oh, ho!" said Maister McNab, "the power's back oan, we'll gaun an see if she'll stert," and followed by his Guard, he trotted back to the Motor Unit in the front carriage; Rab stood, probably intending to go to the toilet and empty his stomach, and the shot which shattered the window behind him, parted the hair on top of his head, knocking him out cold like a jackhammer blow, and the bullet, ricocheting from it's brief contact with his particularly hard skull, thudded into the head-rest on Jasmine's seat, just an inch above her own head; instantly galvanised, she shoved Teri down below the table and in barely a second had lifted and fired her own revolver – although it all happened soi fast, reconstruction later by Professor Carolina Moonbeam's Forensic Team, established that Jasmine's round went through the same hole in the glass as that aimed at her, and the blood spatter on the outside of the window indicated that it had hit it's mark somewhere; fingerprints were found above the window, from which the would-be killer had hung by one hand, his right, and firing his own gun from the other; but of him, there was nothing found; as soon as she had checked briefly by glancing outside that there was no-one lurking in the shadows, Jasmine hurried to the Driver's cab and urged Maister McNab to drive full-speed to Tweedbank, without stopping at Stow or Galashiels, just in case the shooter was clinging to the roof of the train; at Tweedbank, the Armed Response Unit was prepared for their arrival and had been briefed by the undercover officers who had expected to board in Gala, that there was no-one on top of the train, or clinging to the rear; the train was surrounded on it's arrival, passengers were quickly disembarked and briefly interviewed – those whose destinations were Stow or Gala were ushered onto a waiting train at platform 2 and taken home, while the rest were greeted by anxious friends and relatives, or made their way to their own cars, and soon the station was quiet; Sam Smiles and Tavish Dalwhinnie drove Teri and Jasmine back to the Secret Service cottage in Darnick and de-briefed them, on the discoveries in Edinburgh and the incident on the train – they too had received the photographs of the underground chase and Tavish had already informed their Boss, Sir Valentine Macalpine, who was apparently rubbing his hands together with glee at the chance to take down Doubleday, who had been under considerable suspicion for several years, and officers at all railway stations, airports, shipping ports and bus stops were on the lookout for the man in the Panama hat – until one armed officer found him sitting in one of train's toilets, suffering considerable blood-loss from a wound to his left hand and arm: it seemed that when Jasmine's bullet struck his gun, it had exploded and badly shattered his hand and shrapnel from that had caused him a number of puncture wounds; his hat had blown away as he scrambled, one-handed, to enter the empty rear carriage – all the passengers having congregated in the middle of the train – and he had then entered and locked the toilet there; suffering from considerable blood-loss and severe shock, he was incoherent, indeed, looked destined for the knackers-yard, but now in the operating theatre at the Borders General Hospital and under tight surveillance by the Scottish Secret Service, he would be interviewed and charged once recovered from the anaesthetics: "you two deserve a strong drink," said Tavish as he poured four large measure's of Laphroaig and passed them around; Sam said: "the evidence you found in Elginbrod's Archive should help ensure the pair in Hawick's cells are not bailed when they go before the Sheriff in Jedburgh tomorrow, and Teri and Jasmine looked at each other and burst out laughing, Tavish looked curiously at them, and asked: "what's the joke?" at which, as one, they said: "Jethart Justice!" and were off again.