Water of Death (35 page)

I woke up with a raging thirst, sunlight streaming past the curtains I'd forgotten to close. I hadn't had much time to queue for water recently and I could hear the racket from the large number of locals who'd already gathered in the street below. So I grabbed my mobile and took the easy way out.

“Davie, bring some water with you when you come to pick me up, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied sarcastically. “Anything else I can do for you, sir? How about some breakfast?”

“What a good idea. Out.”

I found clean trousers and a Parks Department T-shirt that wasn't too stained. I was zipping myself up when my mobile buzzed.

“Quint? Can you talk?”

“Yes, Katharine. I'm on my own in my place.” The Public Order Directorate doesn't run to surveillance equipment on mobiles, so as long as she'd picked a public phone that wasn't being randomly tapped we were okay. “Where are you?”

“Grange Cemetery. I spent the night behind a gravestone.”

“You'd better spend the day there too.” As the Council allows only cremation, the city's old burial grounds are dead quiet. “I'll try to meet you later on. Have you got a good book?”

“I can find ways to occupy myself.”

I wondered about that. Did she have business in the city? I'd been convinced by the way she reacted to her friend's body at the mill, but could it have been an act? Did she know more about the Ultimate Usquebaugh than she'd let on? There wasn't time to take that any further. I heard Davie's heavy steps on the stair.

“Call me again in the afternoon,” I said. “Keep your head down.”

She laughed softly. “You know how good I am at that, Quint. Be good. And beware women in blouses and skirts.”

“Out,” I said as Davie came in.

“I only just got here,” he said with a pained expression.

“Not you, idiot.”

He came forward and tossed me a brown paper bag. “Who were you talking to?” he asked.

I pretended I hadn't heard and got stuck into the barracks wholemeal roll. I needed a whole bottle of water to wash it down.

“Wonderful morning, isn't it?” the public order guardian said, looking out over the sunlit panorama of buildings, firth and distant hills from his quarters in the castle.

“Maybe it is from up here,” I replied testily. “Down in the streets where the citizens go, it's bloody sweaty.”

“Oh come on, Dalrymple. Things are looking up. No more messages overnight, no sign of nicotine in whisky bottles or, thank God, in the water supply. What are you so gloomy about?”

“No sightings of Allie Kennedy, for one thing.”

Hamilton sighed. “There's no firm evidence that the missing citizen's done anything, man.”

“Why's he disappeared then?” I sat down at the conference table and pulled out my notebook. We were going nowhere fast in this case and I was pretty sure it wasn't over yet.

“Nasmyth 05 has been in the Culture Directorate since last night,” Davie reported.

“Great,” I grunted.

“There are still some leads we haven't followed up,” Davie said, sitting down opposite me. He was trying to be helpful. Hamilton blithely continued his impression of a self-satisfied laird surveying his domain.

“Such as what?” I demanded.

“Such as the seven citizens who've been nailed for smuggling marijuana. I can find out if they've ever had anything to do with Allie Kennedy.” Davie glanced over at his boss. “Or with the fat man,” he added in a low voice.

I took the list he'd removed from a folder. Six of the grass traffickers had been down the mines for weeks, while the seventh was in a secure clinic. “It's a bit of a long shot,” I said doubtfully.

“I thought you liked long shots,” Davie said sardonically.

“All right, go and talk to them. Meet me outside the Council chamber at midday if you can.”

He looked at his watch, raised an eyebrow and departed.

“You will be at the Council meeting, won't you, Dalrymple?” Hamilton said from the leaded windows.

“Yes, Lewis,” I said, getting to my feet. “I can hardly wait.”

“Where are you going now?” he asked.

“Not sure. I'll see you later.”

I went down the corridor and out into the sun. If coins existed in Enlightenment Edinburgh, I'd have tossed one. As all citizen transactions are by voucher, I made do with going for the marginally shorter of the two long shots I had in mind. Davie would have let out a hollow laugh. It was either Ray, whose uncharacteristic behaviour was still puzzling me, or the two headbangers I decked in the Meadows. Since Ray didn't have any kind of criminal record or any connection with the suburbs on the south side, I went for Colin the carrot and his headbanger pal Tommy. I knew they'd be overjoyed to see me.

The Youth Development Department runs numerous residential centres for the city's problem kids. In the early days of independence, the Council favoured the minimalist approach to young recalcitrants – meaning the mines, the farms or an extended session with the inter-barracks boxing champion. Since the guardians (apart from the likes of Hamilton and Sophia) became user-friendly, naughty boys and girls get a much easier ride. They have their own rooms in rehabilitation centres, they're issued with clothes that are a cut better than the Supply Directorate gives the rest of us and they're allowed to listen to music that has only a passing relationship with melody, harmony or subtlety. But the inmates of the centres still get locked up overnight – and the poor darlings have to take part in endless counselling sessions and discussion groups.

I discovered from the command centre databank that Colin and Tommy had been assigned to a facility in Newington. The grey-bearded guardsman who drove me there was even more severe than most of his kind. His expression only lightened when we pulled up outside the neoclassical villa on the Dalkeith Road.

“Want a hand putting the squeeze on the wee shites in there, citizen?” he asked eagerly.

One of the old school of auxiliaries. I declined his offer and told him to wait for me. I climbed out and got an eyeful of Arthur's Seat and its scorched slopes. That made me think of Billy Geddes in the rehab centre over in Duddingston. He mentioned Nasmyth 05 to me what seemed like a very long time ago. It might be an idea to squeeze him for more on the Edlott controller.

After I got past the guardswoman at the gate – who was in plain clothes to give the impression that this wasn't a house of correction – I stopped and looked up at the extravagant building. It was a large rectangular block with tall windows to the left and right of the columns at the entrance. The Youth Development Department flag was hanging limply from a pole on the central tower's triangular gable. At least that meant the garish purple and yellow geometric design by a former inmate wasn't too visible. I went inside and asked for the two lads. While I waited, I took in the atmosphere. What was once an art gallery's spectacularly opulent marble and glass hallway had been stripped and degraded into a typical Council institution with poor-quality wood panelling and bare brickwork. Still, it was very clean. It wouldn't do for the residents to live in squalor.

Obstreperous voices echoed down the hall. Obviously the department hadn't worked its magic on Colin and Tommy yet.

“Hey, Col, look who it is.” The would-be tough guy nudged his mate. “It's that investigator wanker. D'you reckon he'll have us this time?”

“Naw,” the carrot said. “We're ready for him, eh?” He didn't sound too convinced.

I led them into a common room full of surprisingly comfortable-looking furniture where a couple of other inmates were playing cards. I wasn't bothered if they heard what I was going to ask.

“Getting on all right?” I asked the bagsnatchers.

“As if you care,” Tommy said, staring at me dully.

“Oh, I care, son. Believe me, I care.”

“Like fuck you do.”

Colin let out a nervous titter.

I smiled at them. “I care so much that if you talk to me, I'll get you out of here early.”

That shut Tommy up. It also put a stop to the other guys' game of cards.

“Eh, what d'you want tae talk about then?” Tommy asked, getting as close to co-operative as he could manage.

“Allie Kennedy.” I watched them closely as I said the name. “Alexander Kennedy. Do you know him?”

There was a brief silence as all four of the common room's occupants took up pretending I wasn't in the room. This was getting interesting.

“I'll take that as a yes then, shall I?” I asked.

“Take it as anything you fuckin' like,” Tommy said, his chin jutting out aggressively.

I laughed then stopped abruptly. “Remember the guard commander you saw in the Meadows?”

Tommy glanced away but Colin nodded slowly, his mouth half open.

“He's an expert in the third degree.” I smiled at them again. “In fact, he's developed something he calls the fourth degree.” I paused for effect. “The Council doesn't let him use it very often. Something to do with the male victims having permanently high voices after it.”

Colin's face blanched. Tommy and the other guys weren't looking too happy either.

“That auxiliary is just a call away,” I said, hardening my tone. “So how about saving me some time and yourselves a lot of grief?” I looked round the room. “I'm talking to the four of you. I can see you all know Allie.”

“Aw, come on,” one of the card players whined. “This isnae anything to do wi' us.”

“It is now, pal. Why don't you all have a chat about it?” I left them to huddle into a group and whisper acrimoniously for a minute.

“Awright,” the putative hard man said, eyeing me as threateningly as he dared. “We know Allie Kennedy. But he's nothin' to do wi' the Southside Strollers. He's in a different league frae us.”

“Fuckin' right,” one of the card players put in. “He's a right fuckin' heidbanger.”

I scanned their faces again. They showed a mixture of disgust and fear. “What kind of thing has he been involved in?”

“You name it, mister smart fuckin' investigator,” Tommy said. “He moves grass, he pimps rough for tourists, he's intae the black market.”

Pay dirt. It looked like my long shot had paid off. But the bad news was that Allie Kennedy was obviously a smart operator. He'd managed to avoid getting a Public Order Directorate record apart from that minor card-playing offence. And he'd managed to get himself a heavy reputation among the city's next generation of criminals. These guys were very reluctant to talk about him.

“Does he run with a gang?” I asked.

Four shaking heads.

“Naw,” Colin said quietly. “He's a one-man show.”

“There are stories about him dealing wi' people who get in his way,” Tommy added. “Dealing wi' them so they don't bother anybody ever again. I reckon he's got contacts wi' the guard dogs.”

This was getting better and worse by the minute. “I'll try not to tell Hume 253 you said that, Tom. So where does this criminal mastermind have his base?”

More shaking of heads, this time categorical.

“He's smart,” Tommy said, a note of admiration in his voice. “He doesn't leave traces for you bastards to find.” He grinned derisively at me.

I let that go. “When did any of you last see him?”

“I've never seen the cunt,” Tommy said.

“Me neither,” the carrot added.

The other guys were shrugging.

“What?” I yelled. “Allie Kennedy's got more of a reputation than the Scarlet Pimpernel in the shit-stained underworld you inhabit and none of you's even seen him?”

All four of them looked at me blankly like cows that have been standing in the rain for hours.

I turned to go.

“Here, what about gettin' us out early?” Colin called.

“Trust me,” I said. “I'll fix it.”

There were groans of disbelief from behind me.

“Here, citizen investigator,” Tommy called.

I stopped and turned to face him.

He was grinning slackly. “Who the fuck's the Scarlet Pimpernel?”

Davie pulled into the yard outside the Council building a few minutes before the meeting was due to start.

“Good timing, big man,” I said. “Get anything interesting out of the grass traffickers?”

He pulled his sleeve across his forehead and shook his head. “Nothing very hot. They all claimed they were solo operators. They pilfered from marijuana clubs and the Supply Directorate stores. None of them admitted any contact with auxiliaries, Nasmyth 05 included.”

“Surprise, surprise. How did they react when you asked them about Allie Kennedy?”

“None of them knew him.”

“That wasn't what I asked, Davie.”

He looked at me with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean ‘how did they react'?”

Hamilton's Jeep drew up. He got out and came over to us.

“Any sign of fear or trepidation?”

Davie scratched his beard. “Maybe, now you mention it. I wasn't really looking for that. They denied all knowledge of him pretty quickly, right enough.”

I nodded. “You'll have to go back to them.”

“What?”

I told him what I'd learned from the bagsnatchers.

“That's ridiculous, Dalrymple,” the public order guardian interjected. “We'd have picked up rumours about this Allie Kennedy if he was that much of an operator.”

“Would you? Maybe he's very good at covering his traces.” Another thought struck me. “And maybe he hasn't been a big operator.” I waved Davie away. “Until now.” I turned and headed for the chamber.

Sophia brought the meeting to order without giving me more than a cursory glance. Yet again the citizen members were conspicuous by their absence.

“I was informed earlier that no further ultimatum has been received. I trust that is still the case?” she said, looking at us for confirmation.