‘Where is he?’
The woman slumped into the sofa, next to the old man, helped herself to a whisky. ‘Gone.’
Jimmy Evans ran a hand across his bruised forehead. ‘We were going to hand him over to the police—’
‘Evans!’ Lowe scowled at him. ‘He doesn’t know any—’
The woman waved her hand. ‘Oh shut up,
A shape lumbered into view through the window: Butler, her black jacket and hat already caked with snow. She rapped on the glass. Logan ignored her. ‘What’s over?’
Evans took a swig of pale-yellow whisky. ‘My brother never got over what Knox did to him. Chained to a wall, tortured, raped…And then when he goes to the police, what happens? Two big bastards come round and threaten to cripple his grandkids if he doesn’t change his story: say he lied about it.’
‘Knox was here and you let him
‘Was never the same after that. Took Simon four years to die; just gave up in the end.’ The old man drained his glass. ‘Knox killed him, sure as if he’d stuck a knife in his guts. So when that policeman Danby called and said he wanted to—’
‘Evans! Keep your big gob shut!’ Bruce Lowe clambered to his feet and turned to Logan. ‘I just asked them back here for a drink, offer a bit of support. He’s drunk. You can’t—’
‘Don’t talk to my dad like that!’ Matt hauled himself out of his armchair. ‘Least he had the guts to go through with it, you couldn’t even shoot the little—’
‘I had nothing to do with—’
‘SHUT UP!’ The woman slammed her glass down on the coffee table. ‘Just…shut up.’
The knocking at the window got louder.
She sank back into the sofa. ‘We didn’t let Knox go, we sold him.’
Logan could feel his mouth hanging open. ‘You
‘Some bossy cow turned up with two thugs. She said she could sell Knox to some gangsters who’re after him. Split the money with us. Supposed to be compensation for what he did.’ Ellen gave a short laugh, then picked up her glass again, greasy beads of alcohol shimmering on the sides. ‘They even had this…fat naked guy in a dressing gown with them, tied up with a bag over his head. Suppose they were going to sell him too.’ She took a swig. Bared her teeth. ‘Must be good money in perverts.’
She had no idea.
There was a clunk from the front of the house, a muffled voice saying, ‘Oh…
Logan called back: ‘In here.’
The constable bumbled in, nose and cheeks bright pink. ‘What happened? I was knocking and everything.’
‘Get your notebook out.’ He pointed at Jimmy Evans. ‘You abducted Richard Knox and made it look like he raped you.’
‘We needed enough evidence—’
‘Evans!’ Bruce Lowe was on his feet again. ‘I swear to God, if you don’t—’
‘—make sure he’d go back inside for life this time. He—’
‘Don’t listen to him! We didn’t do anything, it was Knox!’
Logan grabbed Lowe by the scruff of the neck and hauled him back into his seat. ‘YOU SIT DOWN AND YOU KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, UNDERSTAND?’
The man shrank back into the armchair.
Logan loomed over him. ‘What about Harry Weaver? Was he in on it too? Or did you put the poor bastard in hospital for fun?’
Lowe looked away. ‘It…Knox had…He was like that when we got there. Tied up on the bed, naked, blood everywhere. The woman too. We never touched them.’
Silence.
Logan turned to the rest of the room, ‘Where did they go? This woman who’s going to sell Richard Knox for you?’
The old man topped up his glass again. ‘She said there was some Edinburgh gangster who’d act as go- between…’
Logan stuck out his hand. ‘Car keys.’
They looked at him. ‘What do—’
‘Give me your car keys.
A minute later he had two sets for the Mercedes, and one for the big black people carrier. The woman dropped her Clio key fob into his hand and Logan stuffed the lot into his pocket.
‘You will stay here and you will wait for a patrol car to collect you. Do you understand?’
