Part 24 (2/2)

'Anybody would think your throats were cut!' Joe shouted. 'If this was in the Doll I'd be telling my staff to keep an eye on you lot, you greedy set of b.u.g.g.e.rs. Now, one at a time. Ladies first. Kailash?'

'I'll have a Hendrick's gin, with finely sliced cuc.u.mber and fresh borage.'

Would she now? Trust her anyone else would have a Gordon's gin with flat Schweppes and, if they were lucky, a slice of lemon that had a tiny bit of life left in it.

'I don't have that,' I snipped.

'Yes, you do, I brought my own. It's chilling in the fridge. Just bring a few leaves of borage I brought that as well.'

It felt like a relief to escape from the dining room, but Joe followed me.

'Don't worry, Brodie,' he began. 'I'm not going to make a scene. We both know that I've no right to.'

'That's right you divorced me.'

'I know, and maybe I've lived to regret that. But remember, I didn't sign those papers because I didn't want you. I signed them because I thought you'd have a better life without me. Mind you, looking at the c.o.c.k-up you're making of it, I think I was wrong there too.'

He walked out of the kitchen with Kailash's gla.s.s. I knew that all I had to do was call him back and we could start again. He had made a decision once that he was bad news for me; if I loved him, then I would have to say that I was bad luck for him too. I was facing a prison sentence for attempted murder at the very least, with possible fraud and murder charges hanging over me. By the time I got out of prison I would need an ovarian graft to have children.

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and drank it straight from the bottle. I walked into the dining room in my leathers and tight white T-s.h.i.+rt. I had been so busy cooking I had forgotten to change. I knew there was a love bite on my neck and I didn't exactly look cla.s.sy. They all turned to look at me as I came in.

Frank was the first to talk. 'It's not as bad as we feared, Brodie. Not as bad as it could have been. There's no DNA evidence against you. The only evidence the police have is a motive for the a.s.sault. They have you in the vicinity when the attack occurred and they have a weapon.' Frank held up a photograph of a Stanley knife.

'What good is that to me? That's available in any and every DIY store in the country!'

'I know,' smiled Frank. 'It's good, isn't it?'

'Well, it's time to be thankful for small mercies I suppose,' I said, feeling that I needed to cheer Frank and everyone else up. For myself, the mercies in my life seemed so d.a.m.nably small, I couldn't even find them to be grateful over.

Chapter Thirty-Five.

'Darlin', you look terrific have you lost weight?'

I knew Tanya Hayder was lying but I smiled politely anyway. Moses had decided that we had to pay a visit to one of the 'premier escorts of the Flowers of Scotland website'. It was time to call in our markers. Tanya knew more than she had let on yet, and we needed that information now.

The Castle was a very upmarket rehab set in the Scottish Borders. The psychotherapist was from California, and had written several books consequently, celebrities flocked from all over to pay homage at his feet. I had read one of his tomes, What Cheerful People Know. It had impressed me so much that I had even tried some of the strategies. Basically, he said we were hot-wired by our genes to be scared all the time so we had to have courage even when we didn't feel brave at all. When I drank or Tanya chased the dragon, we were just giving in to our reptilian impulses. It cost me 7.99 to follow his advice for a fortnight; here, it was costing the state 1,000 a day. I would lay good money on the truism that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Unfortunately, sitting in the sumptuous common room of The Castle, Tanya looked like a very old dog.

'Not like you, Tanya,' said Moses as he pulled a straight-backed dining chair out of the corner of the room, ignoring the fact that she was all skin and bones. 'You've put on some weight there your cheeks are filling out again.' Moses didn't slump in chairs, but rode them like horses, giving you the impression that he was on the starting line in a race, ready to bolt at any moment. Watching him in the bright suns.h.i.+ne, I easily imagined him grabbing the chair and smacking it off Tanya's head if he didn't get the answers he wanted. I think Tanya felt it too.

'So, darlin,' Moses continued, 'I think you know that we're not here to measure each other's waistlines. I've been good to you in the past, and so has my friend Brodie.'

He didn't say 'too good to you', but that was to be understood. Tanya s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in her chair, and, although I was fond of her, she reminded me of a sewer rat. By that I mean a tremendous survivor although, as I looked at her in the harsh sunlight streaming through the full-size bay windows, even her mannerisms were reminiscent of the creature. Heroin had robbed her of her humanity.

It was fascinating how she twitched. Her small beady eyes darted between our faces, summing us up, guessing which one of us was the softest touch.

'Brodie,' she began.

I guess I lost in the poker-face stakes.

'You and I go way back.'

Her head was nodding, trying to get me to agree with her. I knew as soon as I did that, then the truth was lost. I remained still. She reached out and touched me with her skinny claw-hand. I fought the urge to pull back. Using every available vein for junk destroys your circulation. Her wasted arm was mottled with purple blotches, as if she had sat by a fireside for too long.

'See, darlin', we understand each other.'

She patted my leg in a manner that was meant to soothe but just set my teeth on edge. Her arm twisted just enough to show me the pale underside. Barely healed puncture marks were visible.

'What the f.u.c.k!'

Moses grabbed the same arm so hard that I thought he had broken it. The patient who was sitting quietly in the corner scurried out of the room, sensing the trouble before it had even fully begun.

Alone now, Moses squeezed Tanya's arm so hard it brought tears to her eyes. She was an excellent actress, but Moses wasn't falling for any of it. As soon as she knew that the victim role wouldn't work, she became angry, spitting like a cat trying to bite him. Moses jumped back and slammed her head into the wall. He wasn't dealing with someone that he thought would understand anything but the language of violence Tanya was just an Edinburgh junkie. 'Shut the door, Brodie. If we want anything out of this b.i.t.c.h we're going to have to make her talk. And I, for one, am looking forward to it.'

My feet sunk into the thick carpet. I couldn't stop to think of the rights and wrongs of this situation. Could I plead the Nuremberg Defence? Who would believe that I would take orders from a barely literate boy? Moses knew best how to handle this situation there were too many people depending on me for squeamishness to come into it.

'We can do this the easy way, Tanya,' said Moses, 'or we can do it the hard way. I know you've got a stash. If you don't want me to gra.s.s you up to the people who run this place then you'd better start talking.'

All the fight left Tanya. She returned to her chair, deflated. There was no pretence at niceness, no camaraderie or talking of old times. Maybe it was the first time that I truly understood that when you're dealing with a junkie, they have no soul to negotiate with.

'I'm not going to ask you how you got the smack it's not my business. It's enough for you to know that I know, and I won't hesitate to get you thrown out of here and straight into the poky.'

She flicked her matted stringy hair out of her face.

'What do you want to know, you little s.h.i.+t?'

Moses handed her the diary.

'You a tranny boy these days?' she said, flicking through it.

Moses didn't rise to her insults. Despite appearances, he generally abhorred gratuitous violence.

'Keep your smart comments to yourself, waster, and tell me about these s.h.i.+ps.'

'What am I? A f.u.c.king sailor?'

'No, but you've s.h.a.gged enough of them to make a stab at it now, tell me about those boats.'

Tanya started squirming again. I wondered if she had p.i.s.sed herself; it wouldn't be the first time a client had done that. I checked under the chair but the carpet was still in pristine condition.

'You might be scared of whoever you think you're protecting, but I can't see any of them around. Me? I'm here and I'm seriously annoyed.'

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