‘Aye, you’re going to tell me?’
‘Naw. That also falls into the category of stuff I’m not going to tell you. Not yet anyhow. I’m sure I know what his game is but I still don’t know what it means. But I will. I fucking will.’
Winter looked at him for an age but knew he was getting nothing more. As if to make sure of it, the teams ran back out and another deafening chorus of ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’ swept them up into the noisiest of silences.
Celtic scored twice more in the second half and the stadium emptied happy and bouncing. Addison and Winter made their way down the stairs and out onto the concourse.
‘Pint?’ Winter asked.
Addison looked at his watch with an exaggerated stare.
‘Just a couple. It’s getting late.’
‘What?’
Winter looked at his own watch and saw that it was quarter to ten.
‘What’s up? You turn into a pumpkin at eleven?’ he guessed.
‘No, but I’ll be pumping something by twenty past,’ he grinned. ‘She finishes shift at the hospital at eleven and will be naked by the time I get there.’
‘Spare me the details.’
‘You couldn’t handle the truth, wee man.’
‘I’m not sure you can handle her with the amount of drink you’ll have put down your neck tonight. She might be disappointed.’
‘Nae chance. The Addison Express runs well on firewater. The overnight train with no sleeper. I’m going to hit every station.’
‘Mind when I said, spare me the details?’
‘At least I haven’t turned gay. Not that I’m prejudiced, Winter, each to their own. Whatever floats your boat and all that.’
He bristled but knew Rachel wouldn’t thank him for blurting out a retort that used her as ammunition.
‘Oh just fuck off, will you,’ he settled for. ‘Some of us don’t feel the need to broadcast our conquests.’
Addison roared with laughter.
‘Conquests? How is life in Elizabethan England? Are you ready to plight your troth or hoist your petard?’
‘I’ll hoist your fucking petard in a minute.’
‘Temper, temper, wee man. Too easy.’
‘Aye? Tell me, how many of these easy rides is it going to take before you find some measure of self- esteem?’
Addison’s eyes flashed with anger and Winter knew that his jibe had stung. He glared at Winter for a second before the grin emerged again.
‘How many? Let’s see… so far this month there has been Alison, Helen, Denise, Ali and… what was the blonde’s name… oh aye, Moira. How could I forget? All Babes. Thank goodness for Bacardi. Another few should do it for September.’
Addison was beaming all over his face but it quickly disappeared when his mobile rang. He answered with a series of nods and shakes of his head and monosyllabic answers.
‘Fucksake,’ Addison growled as he finished the call. ‘There’s no fucking end to it.’
‘Another shooting?’
Winter realized he’d said it almost as much in hope as anything else and that Addison had heard it in his voice.
‘Don’t get excited, wee man. No, that was from Monteith. Some muppet has firebombed Terry Gilmartin’s place. His five-year-old son was right in the firing line and he’s in intensive care. They don’t think he’s going to make it.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Probably not. More likely to be the Quinns. Colin’s pulled overtime and is on the case so we can all sleep easy in our beds tonight. Well, you can sleep. I’ve got other things in mind.’
‘You’re a nightmare, Addison.’
‘Thanks.’
Addison threw three pints down his neck in the forty minutes that they were in the Oak, the place buzzing around them with post-match post-mortems. Winter could see that he was on edge, full of jokes and bravado but he was under strain. His drinking levels had stepped up big time and something was weighing heavily on his mind.
They squeezed their way out of the pub and tumbled back onto the street where the two taxis they had ordered were waiting for them. Addison was heading for the nurse’s bed and Winter said that he was going home. Except that he wasn’t going home, of course, he was going to Rachel’s flat on Highburgh Road.
As both cars were ready to move off, Winter wound down the window in the back of his cab and beckoned for Addison to do the same.
‘You reckon you know what this guy is up to, right?’
‘I’ve got a fair idea, yeah.’
Winter looked him straight in the eye.
‘Is it good or bad?’
‘That’s the million-dollar question, wee man. A million dollars. It could be both.’
Addison wound his window up again and turned to direct the driver towards the waiting nurse without another word.
CHAPTER 19
Jan McConachie stared at her mobile phone and tried to summon up the courage to answer it. She dreaded doing so but knew that delaying it would only make him angrier and she could imagine how incensed he was already. He was a scumbag but he did love his son and she, more than most, knew just how desperate that could make a person.
She answered.
She’d expected that he might be ranting and raving, the way he often was, but instead his voice was low and measured and that scared the shit out of her. He was anxiously trying to keep his emotions in check but she could hear the fear and the rage bubbling under the surface.
‘You better have some news for me,’ he breathed.
‘I heard about your son,’ she replied. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Shut it. I don’t want to hear you even mention him. I want information.’
‘We don’t know for certain but what we are hearing suggests that it is Quinn’s people that were behind it.’
‘I fucking knew it,’ he seethed. ‘That bastard Riddle organized this.’
‘We don’t know that for sure,’ she insisted.
‘Well, find out,’ he roared. ‘Do your fucking job and find out. It’s what you’re paid for. Both by the polis and by me. My wee boy is fighting for his life and I’ll have revenge for this.’
He lowered his voice again.
‘My son means the world to me. You know what that’s like, don’t you?’
Jan’s heart pounded and she could hear the blood rushing in her ears.
‘I’ll find out everything I can. You don’t need to threaten her. You know she’s done nothing wrong. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s only eight. Please.’
‘Deserve? Don’t give me that pish. My boy doesn’t deserve what’s happened to him and don’t think for one second that I won’t use whatever I can to sort this. I don’t give a fuck about your daughter but you do. So find out what I need to know and I’ll keep putting bread on your table. If you don’t then someone else will be picking her up from school soon.’
