Authors: Grace Monroe
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Murder, #Spies & Politics, #Conspiracies, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Crime Fiction
‘Do you know what Barry’s last words were?’
‘Obviously, not being a fully paid-up member of his fan club, no, I don’t.’
‘“Leave me alone – I’m fine.” You could learn from his mistake.’
‘Thanks for those words of wisdom, Lav. What do you want me to say? That I’m terrified? I don’t know where to turn? Everywhere I do turn it’s just getting worse?’
‘Okay, you can have a cup of tea,’ she buckled.
‘That’s a relief. I thought I was going to have to cry before you put the kettle on – are you worried that I’m going to interfere with your heavy date?’
‘You aren’t being given that option – if he’s early you’re shinning down the drainpipe.’
I wandered over to her bookcase. It was filled with chick lit and some frankly embarrassing self-help titles.
‘Do you really think you should have these books on view?’
‘What’s wrong with them?’ asked Lavender huffily.
‘Any man is going to run a mile if he sees
How to Get
Your Guy in 10 Days
or
Stay Close by Sharing Hobbies
on the shelves.’
‘And I should take advice from you on men? Oh, just put them in the bedroom, Brodie; or, on second thoughts – stuff them into that cupboard over there.’
I opened her overflowing cupboard and put the books in. I had some difficulty in closing it.
‘Have you ever taken any of their advice?’ I asked her.
‘Of course, that’s why I have such a vibrant love life.’
I was drawn to the window again. Could her un requited love of Eddie be so strong that she’d bought this flat just to get him interested? Was this how Lavender ‘kept him close by sharing hobbies’? I didn’t want to draw Lavender out on this subject, I didn’t want her to think I was mocking her, but maybe she was taking those books too seriously.
‘Right, Brodie. I’m obviously not getting rid of you as quickly as I would like – so, what can I do to help you?’ She handed me a large mug of tea and an outsize Galaxy bar.
‘This is a good start.’
‘What’s happened?’
I told her about Moses. She wasn’t his greatest fan at the best of times. She’d met too many like him during her time in London, so what she said surprised me.
‘Don’t be too hard on him.’
‘Don’t be too hard on him? Didn’t you hear what I said? I watched him cut a man’s eyes out.’
‘I know – but were any of the Angels drugged up?’
‘Probably – they were too drunk for me to really tell.’
‘Exactly. Moses doesn’t drink or take drugs – he wouldn’t even take a cup of coffee that had caffeine in it. What’s the one condition he lays down for joining the Dark Angels?’
‘They have to have a letter from a GP that they are not on any form of prescription drugs.’
‘He doesn’t believe in taking methadone – he says it has to be cold turkey, they must be clean. I heard he refused a guy until he’d finished his antibiotics for the clap.’
‘So, what’s your point?’ I asked her.
‘My point is, Moses and I don’t always see eye to eye,’ I ignored her unfortunate turn of phrase, ‘but he guards and takes care of those kids better than anyone else could. The guy he blinded?’
‘Bruce.’
‘Well, I’ll bet Bruce and the Alchemist are challenging his authority – even to the point of giving the younger ones drugs.’
‘So, Freud, you’re saying that because his mother died of a heroin overdose, he acts like that in their best interests?’ I asked.
‘I prefer Jung, and, yes, Moses would protect those kids from drugs with his life.’
‘So really – blinding Bruce wouldn’t even make his heart skip a beat? He’d see it as part of a bigger matter that he was dealing with perfectly?’
‘I’ll tell you something else,’ went on Lavender, ‘I bet next month’s pay packet that he takes Bruce back into the fold.’
‘That’s what Joe said,’ I admitted.
‘What else did he say?’
‘He said we had to find Alex Cattanach. I desperately want to get my hands on the witness Tanya Hayder overheard.’
‘Do you really think he exists?’
‘Call me naïve – but I think it will be easier to find that witness than Alex Cattanach.’
‘Don’t bet on it, not if Joe’s on the case. Anyway, I’ll put an advert in the
Evening News
personal column thanking the person for handing in the jewellery – I think we’d better offer a reward.’
‘But what are we going to do about Cattanach?’ I dipped a piece of chocolate in the hot tea and waited for inspiration to hit me. Lavender sat at the computer composing the ad.
‘I think we should involve Jack Deans,’ she stated.
‘What? Lavender, I thought you said he’s a dickhead?’
‘Well, he is compared to Joe, but he’s also a great investigative journalist. We can use him.’
‘What if we didn’t include Jack and we just put in Cattanach’s physical characteristics and searched the web for leads?’
‘You’re absolutely right, Brodie – we could do that or we could go to the wishing well in the museum and see what turns up. I’m emailing Jack now.’
The doorbell rang. She was still busy.
‘Do you want me to go?’ I offered.
‘I wanted you to go twenty minutes ago but you didn’t take the hint.’
Before she answered the door she turned Barry off and rushed to the mirror.
‘I don’t have my full slap on today – I thought he might prefer it if I was more casual.’ Lavender looked at me for reassurance.
‘You look lovely. George Clooney is a very lucky man.’
‘George Clooney?’
‘Well, who else would be worth all this trouble?’
‘Smart-arse.’
‘Seriously, Lavender. This is all for Eddie, isn’t it? When I first got here I thought you’d found someone else. Someone who would appreciate the nice meal and the effort. You’ve gone to all this trouble for a drunken wee waster who just wants a free view of the match. What do you see in him?’
‘He’s gentle and he’s loyal …’ she began.
I cut her off mid-sentence. ‘Are you looking for a man or a Labrador?’
‘He’s funny and he’s a genius at what he does,’ she went on.
‘True. He’s especially brilliant and funny in that window just before he passes out.’
‘He likes a drink but he’s not an alcoholic.’
‘He’s an alcoholic.’
‘He doesn’t think he is and neither do I. But just supposing you’re right, lots of addicts are functioning human beings. Mozart was a poly drug user, Beethoven’s liver had been ravaged by drink.’
How could you argue against logic like that?
‘You’re a big girl now, Lavender, and if he stops you quoting bloody lists at me, I wish you all the best.’
‘Brodie, you’re my best friend – can’t we agree that I always tell you you’re thin and you tell me Eddie is the man for me?’
The doorbell and knocker hadn’t stopped since we started our discussion.
‘Prince Charming is champing at the bit,’ I told her.
Alcoholic fumes announced his entrance; so did his rather loud rendition of ‘Mack the Knife’. The carrier-bags of booze clinked as he put them into one hand to give me a kiss.
‘How are you doing, Brodie? You’ve had a hard time these last few days, doll.’
I felt tears prick my eyes because Mary McLennan had called everyone ‘doll’. I managed to stutter that I was fine, when he gripped me in a bear hug. Eddie is not small but he’s definitely not tall. As a teenager he must have been stunning, but he was one of those men who hadn’t grown into his looks – rather, they had dissipated around him.
As usual, his suit looked as if he had shrunk overnight. Long, dark brown hair, streaked with grey, brushed his collar, which was worn and had seen better days. He had led an interesting life – his father had died when he was eleven and his stepfather was a member of the Rosicrucians, an occult society. The only effect it seemed to have on him was that he threw himself into football to escape the memories of his dad. He was good too, until a devastating knee injury ended his career and banished him to the terraces.
‘Where have you been, Eddie?’
I was making polite conversation whilst Lavender finished up at the computer. Not that it was necessary. He made himself at home, opening the wine and pouring two glasses. I looked at him askance. Eddie obviously thought I was outstaying my welcome too.
‘Sorry, doll, I thought you were driving.’
He handed Lavender a glass and switched Barry back on. He was certainly at home here – this wasn’t a first visit by any means.
‘Where’ve you been, Eddie?’ I asked again.
‘The Cabbage and Ribs in Albert Street,’ he told me. Most nights the Hibs pub is packed with fans reliving the glory days.
‘Actually, something interesting happened. DI Bancho came in looking for Moses. Apparently he’s knifed another Dark Angel. I thought it was unlikely but they’re looking for witnesses – I told him he had no fucking chance. Who would grass on Moses Tierney? Then your name came up – if I didn’t know better I’d say Bancho fancies you. He brings you into every conversation. Either that or he thinks you’re a criminal mastermind.’
I ignored him but drink did not stay his tongue.
‘You’re in for another busy night, Brodie. Bancho is looking for you and, unfortunately, he knows where to find you. Moses always co-operates with the police so he’ll hand himself in rather than go into hiding.’
Strangely, that was true. Moses did always hand himself in to the police because he thought he was invincible. However, after the death of my father, the ace card Moses had carried was buried with him.
The only one who didn’t seem to realise that yet was Moses.
‘Has Bancho been in touch yet, Moses?’ I asked.
‘No need to. He knows that I always hand myself in,’ replied Moses.
‘About that …’ I had to broach the subject sometime. ‘I was thinking you don’t have a get-out-of-jail-free card any more, not now that my father is dead.’
‘I know that, Brodie – anyway, that’s not the reason. I always co-operate with the police because of the one time I didn’t. I was fourteen. There was an outstanding warrant for being in possession of an offensive weapon. The police had a crackdown. A whole weekend of dawn raids. I thought I was ready for them – when the knock came I jumped naked into a divan bed. I’d carved a hole in the fabric so I could hide. They tippled me and had great fun kicking at the mattress pretending to look for me.’
‘Happy memories, Moses.’
We were hiding where all Leithers hide, in the Citadel in Dock Street. It was built in 1650 to house Cromwell’s troops, but all that remains is a tunnel. We’d had to jump a fence to get in once I’d found him after leaving Lav’s flat. Now we were both in hiding from the police.
‘It smells of piss in here, Brodie.’
‘Thanks for drawing my attention to it. Look, it’s going to be a long night, Moses – we might as well focus on pleasant things.’
‘It still smells of piss, though.’
The sound of a foghorn broke our silence; the haar had come in over the Firth of Forth, and the mist gave us a false sense of security. The hum came again, reminding me that the whole of the Edinburgh Bar was waiting for me to go down. I looked at my watch – now I had less than twenty-three hours to go until …
‘Do you want a Pringle?’
‘It’s a pretty pathetic last meal, Moses.’
‘They’re paprika ones.’
‘That makes all the difference.’
‘Life’s too short to be sitting in a stinky tunnel, Brodie.’
‘Well, why are you still here?’
‘I don’t want to leave you on your own – you’re not used to this life.’
‘I never dreamed I would have to be.’
‘We could always be like Bonnie and Clyde.’
‘They died, Moses.’
My bum was numb. I got up to walk around and rub it for a bit. Just as the feeling came back, my mobile rang.
‘Brodie! I’ve found Alex Cattanach,’ said Jack Deans, breathless and excited.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Moses. ‘Put your phone on loudspeaker so I can hear.’
I did as I was asked and Jack’s voice continued breathlessly, ‘I’ve found Alex Cattanach in Inverness! I think I should collect you and we can go up there together.’
‘When? When can we go? And, how? How did you manage?’
He paused for a moment. ‘I’m free after four tomorrow.’
‘No chance, Deans. I need to go now. I need to get out of Edinburgh tonight.’
‘Inverness is only three hours away. We’ll go tomorrow – make it a bit earlier, but there’s nothing we can do until morning.’
‘Trust her. She has to leave tonight, Jack.’
‘Is that Moses? What are you doing with Moses?’
‘I don’t have time to explain, Deans. Come down to the docks now. The Citadel.’
‘This is getting worse, Brodie.’
‘Just get your arse down here, right away.’
I hung up. Moses straightened his long leather coat. Remarkably, his make-up was still intact. His kohl stuck to him as if he were a Hollywood icon. He raised two fingers to his temple and saluted me. Saying nothing, he disappeared into the fog, and all I had left of him was the tapping of his cane.
He had made his decision. Moses had gone to meet Duncan Bancho. Rightly or wrongly, all three of us knew that any assault charge Duncan brought against him wouldn’t stick. Nonetheless, Duncan’s efforts would delay him and buy me some time.
It was not the first time that Bancho and I had crossed swords over Moses. The last time I had won and it cost Bancho a promotion. Bancho thought then that he had busted Moses’ car-theft ring. It was alleged that the Dark Angels stole cars in and around the central belt of Scotland. They were said to have taken the cars back to a yard that Moses owned. DI Bancho had a tip-off that a fresh load of cars had arrived. He turned up with a warrant and Moses wasn’t there. Bancho took the cars. His first problem was that it was late on a Friday and there were no police trucks available to uplift the vehicles, so he used his initiative. Bad mistake. Bancho instructed a local garage to pick them up and put them in their yard.
At five they locked the gates with chains and went home.
Moses’ story was
he didn’t steal cars
, so when he was walking home and saw his cars in a strange yard, the first thing he did was call the garage owners to find out what the score was. They weren’t available because it was the weekend.