I paced the house looking for something that the key might fit. I spotted a couple of linen chests, a drawer on Billy’s desk, but the key I’d found fitted none of them. It looked like an old door key, probably for an exterior lock of some kind. I pocketed it and, on a hunch, decided to check the one room I’d left out so far, the bathroom.
Call it a cliche, but I reckoned the cistern was still a safe bet to find stuff people don’t want to put out on open display. Especially, I thought, if Billy was keeping something from Nadja — there was no way she’d risk breaking a nail poking about at the shitter.
I lifted the lid, depressed the ballcock. Nothing. The cistern held only water. I put back the lid, turned for the hall. On my way, a board beneath my feet creaked. I looked down, the floor was carpeted, but at the wall there seemed to be a few tacks missing.
It took some work but I managed to loosen the carpet, it was rubber-backed and moved freely once I’d taken out the grips holding it down.
‘Bingo!’
One of the boards had recently been lifted, nails removed, chips at the edges where it had been prised up.
I banged on the edge with the heel of my hand and the board shot up. Hidden beneath was a small Nike holdall. I reached in, pulled it out. Inside, I found Billy’s passport, bank books, a heap of unsigned credit cards and about twenty gees in used notes.
‘Planning a quick getaway, Billy Boy?’
I put the board down, stamped down the carpet and slung the bag on my back.
I tried to leave Billy’s apartment as I’d found it — think Hiroshima aftermath.
Outside I strolled along casually. Not an easy task when you’ve twenty large flung over your shoulder. I’d never been mugged in my life, I prayed it wouldn’t be my turn today. Not because I feared losing the cash, but because I still carried the Glock. Didn’t want to be caught warding off a hoodie with such a serious weapon, had a feeling the consequences might be disproportionate.
At the Wall, the same old faces were in residence. The gadgie spied me, got to his feet. If I’d no time for him when we last met, I’d less now, greeted him with, ‘Fuck off.’
His face, skin as patchy as kebab meat, failed to detect any hostility. He swayed about, looked far gone, then sat down again and drooled into his pint.
‘That’s a bit harsh,’ said Col. ‘That’s a customer you’re talking to.’
‘I’ve no time for pleasantries.’
A frown, shake of the head. ‘I know we’re hardly the Ritz, but a man deserves a bit of common courtesy.’
Felt in no mood to debate the fineries of Edinburgh’s carefully cultivated class system; I threw the holdall on the bar.
‘What’s this?’
‘Open it.’
Col tipped the bag on its side, struggled with the zip fastener on the pocket.
‘Here,’ I said, grabbing it off him, undoing the cord at the top, ‘have a look at that.’
Col peered in. ‘By the cringe, there must be-’
I put my hand on his mouth. Some of these people would do a lot worse than kill for half this amount.
‘Picked it up from Billy’s gaff.’
‘You went round?’ Col ferreted further into the bag, removed the passport. As he saw the page with Billy’s photo on he touched his lips.
‘Col, the place has been turned over. It seems Billy had got his hands on something that attracted a lot of interest.’
‘Like what?’ Col was genuinely confused. I wondered if this episode might be the one to tip him over the edge.
‘Something he shouldn’t have.’
Col’s features stiffened. He flared his nostrils then yanked the cord closed on the bag. ‘Here, take it.’
‘Uh-uh. If anyone’s due some of Billy’s earnings, I think it’s you.’
He forced the bag into my hands. ‘I’ll never touch it.’
‘Think about it. You take it or Nadja does.’
A dog barked outside, Col vacillated.
I said, ‘Take the money, Col. Dump it in the collection plate the next time you’re at church.’
Slowly, he slid the bag off the bar. His hands trembled as he tucked it underneath the till.
‘This is all very unsettling, Gus.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘If I’d known… Well, I’d have found a way to intervene, sooner.’
‘Sooner?’
Col touched his brow, looked like he’d just remembered something burning in the oven. ‘Christ, listen to me! Here’s you chasing all over the place on my behalf and — will you have a drink?’
I nodded. Col poured out a Guinness, and a chaser.
‘We’re a bit quieter tonight, I think,’ he said.
‘How so?’
‘ Big Brother… it’s eviction night.’
‘Holy shit, even your punters watch that garbage?’
‘Oh yes, it’s like an obsession with them.’
‘Where’s the attraction of recording every cough and fart of a bunch of nobodies?’
‘I agree. I think it’s like watching lab rats myself.’
‘We’re all of us guinea pigs in the laboratory of God.’
‘Is that a quote?’
‘Tennessee Williams.’
‘I like it. Do believe he’s right you know.’
I drained my whisky, Col picked up the glass, raised it to the optic behind the bar. As he went, I took out the key I’d found at Billy’s apartment.
I turned it over on the bar towel, trying to guess where it might fit. The key looked older in this light, I noticed some ornate markings on the hilt. It looked Victorian.
‘Where did you find that?’ Col said, as he placed the whisky before me. His voice seemed to suggest he wasn’t unfamiliar with the key.
‘This?’
‘Yeah. It’s my old cellar key, isn’t it?’ He turned quickly from me, went back to the till. A felt board with brass hooks held all the keys for the bar. ‘Oh, hang on… it’s here.’
He brought over his key, placed it next to Billy’s. ‘My, they’re almost identical, aren’t they?’
‘I found this key at Billy’s place. It was tucked away in a shoe, out of sight.’
Col took the key, raised it to the light. ‘Do you think he got hold of a spare or something?’
‘I don’t know. I wondered what it was for, to tell you the truth.’
Col put the two keys together on the bar towel. ‘Well, that’s the queerest thing.’
‘For the cellar you say?’
‘No. No. We’ve a proper cellar down there,’ Col pointed to the floor. ‘This is for the old cellar up the back there, it’s more like a coal house.’
‘What’s in it?’
‘In it? Nothing, nothing at all. Last time it was used, to my knowledge, was in the war, you know, as a kind of shelter.’
I stood up, took the first sip of my Guinness. ‘Have you got a flashlight?’
‘Sure. You going to check it out?’
‘Och, I think I should. So you coming?’
‘No, you go, I’ve got the bar to mind… was near impossible to get staff tonight.’
I huffed. ‘ Big Brother?’
‘You wouldn’t believe it, would you?’