The Merchant's Coin PART 7 “Dad!” Stewart yelled catching up with Mrs. T and his father. “We’re all over the news. The police think we attacked the Director and stole the painting.” “What painting?” said David. “Yeah… your son stole a painting. It’s in the SUV. There was scribble on the bottom of the Blueprint. Your son thought it might be important,” said Mrs. T. “So you stole it?!” David peered at him. “We couldn’t let the Art Director have it, could we?” Stewart said, looking over his shoulder for the policeman. All Stewart noticed was the luminous yellow jacket and the black and white band around the policeman’s hat in the crowd, which was heading right in their direction “We need to go now!” Mrs. Turnbell turned away from the SUV and spotted the policeman. Propping her hands on her hips she shook her head, “No way, this ends here. We will turn ourselves in and just explain what happened. Right David?” She glanced to her left but he wasn’t there. “David!” She turned around. David climbed into the driver’s seat of the SUV. “David!” Mrs T yelled running to the SUV. Pulling on his seatbelt buckle David slammed the driver’s side door. The window hummed as it lowered. “I’ll take the painting somewhere safe,” he said hitting the floor-mounted ignition as the SUV shook to #life. “What about us?!” Mrs. T leaned toward the open window. “If we all leave it will only escalate things. I’ll meet you at the police station. Stewart’s right, we can’t let the Art Director get the painting, or that other man,” he said pulling out of George Square. The SUV accelerated away into the traffic and disappearing around the first corner. Stewart and Mrs. T stood in the drizzle. They both turned around as the policeman approached. He had one hand on his baton as if expecting trouble. Directly behind the constable on the other side of the square, a police van appeared. Mrs. Turnbell folded her arms, her suit jacket creasing from the rain. “Don’t say anything, Stewart.” “I’m placing you under arrest for theft, vandalism and assault. Will you come quietly or will I have to restrain you both?” the approaching officer said as the tip of his hat dripped a thin film of rainwater across his chin. They both said nothing. “Good. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to represent you. You can choose to exercise these rights at anytime. Understood?” He asked, not bothering to wait for an answer. He grabbed them both by the arms. Escorting them into the back of the police van that pulled over at the curb behind them. The police driver jumped out. He was a tall and lanky with a birthmark on his left temple. He began confiscating their cell phones, wallets and other personal affects before throwing them inside the back of the van. The door then slammed leaving Stewart and Mrs. T in the enfolding darkness.