Blood Lines (18 page)

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 bastard 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 bastard?’

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 crème fraiche. Large blobs dropped into the blood-red sauce and swirled, the spirals reminding me of Cattanach. It was like a free association 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 button 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.

‘As he got closer, he saw something sparkling in Trixie’s mouth. He rushed towards her but she wouldn’t give it up. Apparently she’s a bit of a madam. Dog obedience classes have made no difference. Her owner dived down at her, ripping a hole in his trousers but managing to grab a necklace. It didn’t break as he pulled it out of the dog’s mouth so he knew it wasn’t fake. Whilst he was down on the ground he saw more diamonds sparkling; they were hanging deep in the privet. He scratched his hands quite badly – but once he was certain he’d got it all, he continued on his walk. Leith police station is just on the edge of the Links. Mr Wilson is certain that he handed the items in to the police station; the police officer told him that DI Bancho was dealing with the matter.’

I started to slice into the chorizo sausage. The knife made a satisfying thumping sound on the board. Lavender poured herself a large glass of wine and took a sip. I continued to chop noisily as she went on.

‘DI Bancho couldn’t come out to see Mr Wilson because he was interviewing a suspect in the case. Mr Wilson said there was a scantily clad young woman at the front desk, who had just been arrested. I think it made his night seeing her.’

None of this made me feel good.

If the Alchemist had been lying, then my position would have been safer. I knew now without a shadow of a doubt that Duncan Bancho would have no qualms about planting evidence on me. He had previous in that department.

Lavender placed her hand on mine, stopping me mid-chop.

‘Who do you think you are? Lorena Bobbitt?’

‘Before my time, Lavender.’

‘Rubbish – unless your mother was hiding news papers from you when you were a teenager. Lorena chopped off her husband’s penis with a knife – then threw it out the window.’

I winced as I remembered the story, but felt a sense of deep satisfaction at the thought. I shucked Lavender’s hand off mine and continued my chopping with gusto. She was happily listening to the sound of her own voice and quaffing my wine. I was still waiting for her to pour me one.

‘Just tell me what’s gone wrong, Lav – don’t keep me waiting.’

‘I got overexcited when Mr Wilson told me his story – it seemed like the first good news that we’d had in ages. I kept thanking him – he couldn’t actually see me dancing round my desk, I wasn’t that obvious, but he must have guessed. He asked me why it was so important.’

‘Tell me you didn’t tell him everything, Lavender.’

She turned away and stuck her nose deep into her glass.

‘Lavender, we’ve spoken about your lack of dis cretion before.’

‘I know! I know! That’s why I feel so bad.’ She waved her hands dramatically in the air. I took a ladle and slopped the chorizo and potato casserole onto her plate. Before she’d even started eating it, she asked for more.

‘I’m feeding you, Lav, not fattening you. Tell me what Wilson said.’

Stuffing her mouth, she chewed before she started.

‘He said he was delighted that he’d made my day, but he had gone to the police station to assist the police, not to let criminals off. To quote him, he said there was no smoke without fire and the thieving little bastard deserved what he got. Apparently some young thugs turned over his garage a month or two ago and the insurance company won’t pay up. Even when I told him that he wasn’t getting the reward unless he testified for the defence in court, he wouldn’t budge.’

Lavender is the equivalent of a pit bull when it comes to looking after me.

I ladled more casserole onto her plate. Unfortunately, it didn’t keep her quiet.

‘Joe’s been trying to get you all day – he’s going off his head with worry. He’s upset, and I think he suspects about you and Jack.’

‘So what? Joe and I aren’t an item.’

‘Your problem is you always throw your hat into the ring for the wrong man. You instructed Robert Girvan. You should have asked for Eddie – you know he’s a better lawyer.’

‘He’s an alcoholic, Lavender. My life is on the line. I can’t afford to be sympathetic, not even for you.’

‘Jack Deans is a dipsomaniac, Brodie, but it seems to be one rule for him and another for everyone else. Any sane person would have taken Joe to Inverness. He’s the one who’ll always be there for you, always protect you. There is absolutely no way that Bancho would have arrested you if Joe had been there. You can trust Eddie and Joe not to stab you in the back – can you say the same for the other two? Did you ever stop to ask yourself how Bancho knew where to find you?’

Sweat started to break out on my top lip as a wave of heat ran through my body. The kitchen was airless and I’d left the cooker on. I switched it off and opened the sash window. It made little difference.

The whiff of a neighbour’s barbecue came wafting in. It was approaching seven and my neighbour and his girlfriend were having fun. She’d changed into white shorts that rode up the crack of her ample backside and made her look ridiculous to everyone except him. He was better-looking than she was, but he looked at her like a cat who’d got the cream.

A sharp pain sliced through my heart and I slammed down the window. I could live with the heat.

‘I told Joe that I’d make sure you go down to see him tonight, Brodie.’

‘So, that’s why you hogged all the wine?’

She ignored that comment. ‘I hate to cut and run, Brodie, but I’ve got places to go.’ Lavender pushed her chair away from the table. She looked very smart in a new tailored navy business suit, in spite of the fact that it was two sizes too small. Lavender always squeezed into clothes on the basis that she would slim to fit them.

‘I got this free in a packet of cornflakes.’ She held a pedometer in her hand. ‘It won’t do much good. I’ve eaten far too much.’ Lavender was having difficulty squeezing the clip of the pedometer onto her waistband. Eventually she managed by undoing a button.

‘What’s with the training shoes, Lav?’

‘I’m walking everywhere – the only Americans who aren’t fat are New Yorkers because they don’t drive everywhere.’

‘That’s a bit of a generalisation, isn’t it?’ I asked her. ‘How many minutes do you think it will take to walk off that second huge portion?’

‘About five hours; so I’d better get started.’ Lavender reached up and kissed me. ‘I’ll show myself out – you put some make-up on and go down and see Joe.’

I heard her fumbling in the hallway, putting on her coat. I was determined I was going nowhere, until the laughter from my neighbours’ garden drove me out.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I was dead tired as I walked into the Rag Doll.

Unusually, there was no bump and grind music in the background. A crowd had gathered round the large-screen TV. Even the dancers were spellbound. Were Hibs playing in a European cup match I didn’t know about?

‘Turn the TV off, she’s here,’ said Moses in an unsubtle stage whisper that only served to draw my attention to the telly.

A really scabby photograph of me filled the screen. I looked as if I had a five o’clock shadow across my jaw. Those media types do it deliberately. If you’re the villain of the piece they find a photograph where your eyes are half-shut and you look as shady as hell. In my case they had done their job magnificently.

‘Leave it on. She has to know what she’s facing.’

Joe overrode Moses. The newscaster’s voice told everyone in the pub the same story that they had been listening to since the six o’clock news. I had been arrested and had appeared on petition in Inverness Sheriff Court. I had made no plea or declaration and I had been released on bail.

The piece added that the Law Society accountant Alexandra Cattanach had been found and was recovering in a hospital in Inverness. The plastic blonde reporter added that Miss Cattanach was suffering from extensive injuries and shock. Cue a photograph of the Law Society’s Chief Accountant. It was not taken from their files.

‘Are they allowed to do that?’ a voice asked.

I could barely hear Moses above the rumbles of disgust. The photograph of Alex had been taken this morning.

‘It doesn’t matter if they’re allowed to. They’ve done it. Brodie? Why didn’t you plead not guilty? It looks bad, man.’

‘Moses. I was on petition. I’m not allowed to enter a plea of not guilty.’

‘Sit yourself down,’ said Glasgow Joe as he manhandled me into a seat. ‘Turn it off now,’ he added, ‘I think we’ve all seen enough. Get Brodie a drink.’ He indicated to the girl behind the bar that she should execute as many of these demands as possible.

‘I don’t want a drink, Joe, and I don’t need you to be my nursemaid, Moses.’

‘Believe me, I’m not,’ he answered.

Joe motioned and the music started up again whilst another lardy lass jumped up and grabbed the pole. I knew the Rag Doll wasn’t at the top end of the market, but it always looked like a WeightWatchers meeting in here. This one’s thighs were shaking in time and her cellulite held the tune, but I was in no mood to be superior tonight. Anyway, her clients seemed to love her, as usual. I looked across the table towards Moses. His hands were very white, and his nails were immaculate in their black polish as always; even his cuticles stood to attention. His splayed fingers were keeping control of a pile of papers. My mobile rang, and I went to answer it just before he took it out of my hand.