Part 16 (1/2)

'I didn't say that. Look, Brodie, here's a list of the solicitors currently on remand.' His finger was agitatedly hitting the page he held.

'There are twenty names on this list, Frank. Do you really think Alex's attacker is here? Where do we start?'

Frank had a plan already worked out. 'I thought we'd better visit McCoy, Robert Girvan's old boss. I wouldn't put it past him to have paid someone to carry out the attack.'

'G.o.d, Frank, you haven't seen Alex Cattanach this was no hired a.s.sa.s.sin. Her attacker is s.a.d.i.s.tic, when you look at her wounds you can feel the sick pleasure he got. He enjoyed this.'

My phone had been ringing throughout. 'You'd better answer that mobile,' said Jack.

I pushed my hand into my pocket, pulling out discarded sweetie papers at the same time. Even before I looked at the number I knew who it was and I didn't want to take his call in Jack's presence. I felt as if I was committing adultery. I wasn't going out with one of them and I was no longer married to the other, so I don't know why I felt in such a dilemma, but that's what was going through my mind. You could cause trouble in an empty house, Mary McLennan used to say to me. She was right. I flipped my phone open.

'Joe.'

'Why did you go to Inverness without telling me? Why did Jack Deans take you? What's he expecting a medal?'

I think he might have gone mad if I'd told him what Jack was hoping for.

'It was Jack who found Alex Cattanach,' I started to explain.

'Yeah, and the stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d didn't realise Bancho was tailing you. This isn't a time to put your trust in amateurs, Brodie.'

He was right. But I still felt guilty.

Go for the easy option, Brodie girl, I told myself.

I switched my phone off.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

The doorbell rang. I tried to ignore it.

After the kind of day I'd had, I craved solitude. The journey back from Inverness had been quick, given that I'd slept all the way, but I'd had more stress in a short time than anyone should have to cope with. A continuous peal pierced my ears. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d wasn't going away. It sounded like they had left their finger on the bell. Stomping up the hallway I shouted at the closed door.

'I'm coming, so shut up!'

Even I was offended by my inhospitality. Lavender was made of sterner stuff. Unusually, she was not a welcome sight.

'You'll have had your tea,' I snarled.

'Not on your nelly, Brodie. Your cooking is the only thing I came round for. It certainly wasn't your sunny disposition.'

Although it was a beautiful summer evening, Lavender wore a coat. She didn't follow me into the kitchen straight away, she stopped to take it off and hang it up. Lavender took an inordinate amount of time doing mundane tasks I wasn't sure whether she did it to bother me or whether she used the time to work out a strategy for whatever she wanted.

'So it was okay up there, Brodie?'

We sometimes did this carried on deep conversation with each other whilst in different rooms.

'Fine,' I lied. Being thrown into jail hadn't been fine at all.

'Was DI Bancho a b.a.s.t.a.r.d?'

I could tell from her voice she was hiding something. Slowly, she poked her head around the corner and it was obvious straight away; her red eyes let me see that she had been crying. She pulled a used paper handkerchief from her pocket that was much the worse for wear. It looked like she had been sobbing all day. Lavender blew her nose. It trumpeted round the kitchen.

'Your body makes the most unladylike noises how are you managing to hide that from Eddie?'

'With difficulty,' she answered.

I turned my attention to the tomato sauce that was in danger of burning. Lavender looked at the table and saw that it was set for one. Without being invited, she set herself a place. I tore the purple basil to bits. I was too rough and it disintegrated in my hands before I threw it into the pot.

'Don't take it out on the food, Brodie I'm going to be eating it,' Lavender chided.

The events of the day started to hit me and Lavender's obviously emotional state didn't help. It sounded cold, but I didn't want to spend all night listening to how Eddie had been drinking again or what his latest screw-up was. It was hard to breathe, and I felt as if ice was melting in my chest. Gravity seemed to weigh me down, and it took a great deal of effort to lift the creme fraiche. Large blobs dropped into the blood-red sauce and swirled, the spirals reminding me of Cattanach. It was like a free a.s.sociation test when I thought of Alex, Duncan Bancho came to mind immediately.

Lavender's words interrupted my woozy spell.

'I got a phone call today from the witness in the Alchemist trial.'

I lifted a large knife from my kitchen drawer. Lavender instinctively stepped back.

'What is that, Brodie?'

'It's just a knife.'

'That's not an ordinary knife. You don't get those in a box set in Debenhams.'

'It's a Scottish whinger. My grandad gave it to me it's a MacGregor artifact. Whoever takes it into battle is supposed to be invincible.'

'It's lethal looking.'

'The blade's twelve and a half inches long. They reckon that's the length of a man from his belly b.u.t.ton to his spine it's meant to be some sort of old traditional thing but it makes a fine knife for chopping.'

To test its sharpness I placed the point against the top of my thumb and ran its edge along my skin. A bright crimson bead formed along the line.

'You know I didn't believe the Alchemist,' Lavender continued. 'I nearly dropped when this man called to say he was phoning in response to the advert I had placed in the Evening News personal column.'

I picked up the chorizo sausage that lay alongside my marble chopping block.

Lavender picked up a notebook that was lying beside her handbag. 'Mr Wilson. Lives in a large Georgian house that looks onto Leith Links. On the fourth of May he took his poodle for a quick walk, to pee and poo before bedtime.'

'Information overload, Lav.'

She reached into my wine rack, pulled out a bottle of 1978 Rioja, and proceeded to open it before she went on.

'Mr Wilson was walking along Leith Links. He said it was a bright spring evening, he didn't meet anyone else on his walk. Trixie, that's the dog, became agitated and began snuffling around at the base of a hedge. Trixie was on one of those extending leads, so Mr Wilson couldn't see what was exciting her, he thought she was just about to do her business.