There was a body lying on the floor.
Face up. Mouth open. Skin grey and purple. Flies everywhere.
CHAPTER 2
It was one of those rare and unpleasant September nights in Glasgow when it was warm as well as wet. Humid. Close, as the vernacular would have it. Cool and cold rain they were used to, very used to. Warm rain might have sounded better but it wasn’t.
People were splashing along Paisley Road West trying to avoid the worst of it but stewing under raincoats, brows slick with sweat as well as the downpour. Detective Inspector Rachel Narey sat in her car yards from the corner of Lorne Street and watched them scurry. People covered up for the rain wasn’t helping. She wanted, needed, to see them – heads and all. It was the only way it could possibly work. If it could work at all.
Her husband and daughter were home and dry, a few miles across the river on the other side of the city. She glanced at the dashboard clock, guessing that Tony might be reading Allana a bedtime story and felt a familiar pang of guilt at missing out. Sure, it came with the job, but this time was worse because it was voluntary.
No one was making her sit listening to the rain bounce off the car roof, and no one was paying her to do it. This was unpaid overtime of her own choosing.
Tony, to his credit, didn’t mind. Or if he did, he made a good job of not showing it. God knows if anyone knew what she was like, it was him. Dogs with bones didn’t have a look in.
She’d never been one for giving up on a case even when she was told, ordered even, to leave it alone. Not if it got under her skin.
There. The figure lurching out of the Grapes. He was about the right height and build, collar up, head down, bald head shining under the streetlight. Surely. But no, just as she convinced herself it was him, the man lifted his head and she saw that it wasn’t. The adrenalin left her like a disappointed lover.
As the man neared her car, he caught her gaze and mouthed a clear ‘what the fuck you looking at’ as he passed. He took a further couple of unsteady steps, still glaring back over his shoulders, before feeling he’d made his point and stomping towards home and the waiting arms of his loved ones.
This wasn’t going to work. She had to be sure and be unseen. And she’d have to be quick.
The puddle splashers came and went. A steady stream of them to and from the Grapes and the Bellrock across the way, and in and out of the takeaways. They came in ones and twos and bigger groups that she didn’t much like the look of at all. If he was in one of those then she’d have a decision to make.
This time of night was always a feeding frenzy in Glasgow. No self-respecting Weegie could go home without filling his or her stomach with salt, grease and congealed fats. The city’s eating habits had undergone a massive overhaul – you could get deep-fried quinoa and avocado these days – but it was back to the tried and tested after shutting time.
Narey was parked just a few yards from Chicken Choice, purveyor of late-night fried poultry for the discerning inebriate. You didn’t have to be drunk to eat there but it helped.
Crucially, her few yards’ dash through the rain would be considerably shorter than the walk from the Grapes. As long as she saw him in good time then she’d be inside comfortably before he was. She just had to recognise him.
As she thought it, two men emerged from the pub. One short and slim, swaying under the streetlight, the other much more like what she was looking for. Tall, broad and bullet-headed. It could be him.
The two men parted company with an attempted hug that turned into waves goodbye. The smaller man headed towards town but the larger one had chicken on his mind. Narey was sure it was him.
In one movement, she got out of the car, head down, swung the door closed and clicked it shut as she walked away. She was in Chicken Choice and shaking off the rain before the big guy had got halfway there. She turned away from the door and made a show of looking up at the menu. When she heard the heavy footsteps in the doorway, she knew he’d only be able to see the back of her head. She listened to the sound of his coat flapping and the raindrops falling from it.
‘What can I get you?’ The server was an older man, sparse grey hair on his head.
‘I’ll have the peri-peri chicken for two, salad with one of them.’
She wondered if the newcomer at the door would recognise her voice. She certainly liked to think so, hoped he was looking at the back of her head right now with a sinking heart. She made him wait, listening for the sound of his footsteps in case he decided to leave. She heard none.
Narey turned as casually as she could, just straightening up after surveying the menu board. She even feigned slight surprise at seeing him standing in the queue. He didn’t look at all happy to see her.
Tam Harkness had an odd but not unusual shape, not for Glasgow anyway. Fat from the food and muscly from the gym, his body bulged in podginess and in tone. He was all belly and biceps, topped by a neck last seen on a gorilla and a shaved head punctured with a prominent, throbbing vein. She couldn’t see the tattoos on his forearms but knew they proclaimed his love for his football team and his mother. She must have been very proud.
‘This is harassment. I’m phoning my lawyer first thing in the morning. This is fucking harassment.’
‘Harassment? Buying chicken is harassment? Let me give you a bit of advice, Tam. Save yourself the hassle and the money. Your lawyer will be laughing up his sleeve as he bills you. I’m buying chicken.’
‘You’re following me!”
‘I was here before you were. That’s not following.’
He took a step forward, his bulky frame towering over her.
‘You knew I was going to be here.’
‘You’re sounding very paranoid. Is that the result of a guilty conscience?’
‘Bullshit!’
Narey could see the look of concern on the face of the man behind the counter. She hoped he wasn’t thinking of calling the police. That wouldn’t help things at all.
‘I don’t think it’s bullshit, Tam. It’s only natural you’d have a guilty conscience after harming your girlfriend.’
His eyes widened and his cheeks flared red. The vein on the side of his temple throbbed louder than before.
‘I’ve told you. I’ve told you a fucking hundred times, I don’t know where she is! I had nothing to do with her disappearing!’
He was rattled, angry and losing control. Just as she’d wanted.
‘Did you think I was talking about Eloise? Oh, I’m sorry. I was talking about Alison Dodds. You remember, you broke her arm and two of her fingers. You left her with a black eye and bruised cheekbone. I was talking about your other ex-girlfriend. Unless you’d rather talk about Eloise?’
‘Get tae fuck!’
‘Please!’ The man behind the counter was scared now. ‘I don’t want any trouble. Please, sir. Go now.’
‘I’m no fucking going anywhere,’ Harkness bellowed. ‘I’ve not done nothing. I’m staying. She can get the fuck out.’
‘Please, sir. I’m going to call the police.’
Narey was ready for that and had her warrant card held high for him to see. ‘I am the police, sir. As this gentleman knows very well. There won’t be any trouble, I can assure you.’ She turned to face Harkness again. ‘So, seeing as you brought up Eloise, let’s talk about her.’