door.
'Okay!' she called after him. 'Okay, I'l behave myself. Just don't go.'
He stopped in the doorway. 'Get dressed, then.'
'I'm doing it; I'm doing it. There.'
When he turned, her back was to him. 'Zip me up.' He did as she asked, drawing the dress closed and tight to her.
'One thing you should know about me,' he told her. 'I love my wife.
Anyone who harms her, or who even threatens it… in any way… is in big, big trouble. Understand me?'
She nodded. 'Yes. That's why you want to find George, isn't it? He hurt her before he went away. Now he's in bother with you.'
'Is he ever.'
'So you haven't found him.'
'Not a trace. He's either gone back to Portugal or he's in the Water of Leith.'
'I don't think the fish would fancy him.'
And then she grinned up at him. 'You have to admit, though, I did give it a good try. Did you like the quick flash? Just a bit?'
The girl-waif-woman look was back in her eyes; somehow, he found it disturbing, as if the poisoned apple had been offered and he had begun to reach for it.
'A work of art. Ivy,' he said, acidly, 'but a bit smal for me. Never mind, though; one day you'll make some guy a fine desk ornament.'
'Ohh! We do have a way with the insults, don't we. Although that's not what that lump in your jeans was saying, a minute or so back.
Stil… far be it from me to come between a man and his wife. Want a coffee?'
'No, thanks. But if you have any mineral water, I'd take some.'
She nodded and went through to her small kitchen, returning with a bottle of San Pellegrino and two tumblers. 'That's how I got to know Paula, by the way,' she said, holding up the bottle as he took one of the glasses. 'I shop in her deli; I go in there quite a lot with Rufus. She likes him; she's very fond of children.'
'She's very fond of men,' he grunted, 'but I'm not so sure about kids.'
'She is; take my word for it. Anyway, she's my pal. She told me about the sauna; that's how I knew where it was. And that's where I saw your uncle.'
'You real y did know him?' Mario exclaimed. 'That wasn't just rubbish?'
'Well, I wouldn't exactly say I knew him. I did exaggerate a bit when I phoned you. I was passing the place one day, and I saw him. The door was open and he was standing, framed in it.'
He looked at her, doubtful y. 'Are you sure it was him? Beppe had nothing to do with those businesses. There was no reason for him to go there.'
'Most men go to places like that for a pretty good reason.'
'Not Beppe.'
'I'm pretty sure,' Ivy assured him. 'That was a good photograph in the Mail, and when I saw him, he was dressed much the same.'
'Okay, you saw him once. But how does that tel you who kil ed him?'
'I didn't just remember him because I saw him. Like I told you, he was standing there, and he was having a screaming argument with someone.'
'Beppe? He wasn't the screaming type.'
'He was when I saw him.'
'And who was he screaming at?'
'Ah well, I laid that on a bit thick too, when I cal ed you. The other person was inside the place, I couldn't see who it was and I couldn't hear their voice, other than that it was raised. But I can tell you this, your uncle was shouting at whoever it was as if he wanted to kil them. If the other person was as mad with him as he was with them, all you have to do is find him.'
44
'Well, Sauce, what do you have for me this morning?'
'Weekend reports, ma'am,' the probationer replied. 'The front desk said that Mr English normal y checks them over first thing on a Monday morning.'
I'l bet he does, thought Maggie.
'Just put them in my in-tray,' she said, leaning back in her chair and looking up at the young man. 'Did you have a good one, then?'
Haddock stared at her, bewildered. 'Good what, ma'am?'
'Weekend, son; did you have a good weekend?'
'Oh, that. Yes, ma'am, it was okay. Went out wi' my girlfriend on Saturday, like. Watched the fitba' on telly yesterday. Just ordinary, like.
What about you, ma'am?' he asked, emboldened.
'Mine? Family stuff, mainly.'
'Ahh,' he said. 'I suppose.' He paused. 'They were saying downstairs, about your husband's uncle, like. That must have been an awful shock for him.'
She grimaced. 'A bul et in the back of the head usually is.'
Haddock gasped at her response, and Maggie saw him go pale. 'Sorry, son,' she exclaimed. 'That was a bit blunt. But you do know what you can come across in this job, don't you?'
'Aye, ma'am,' the probationer replied, 'but you don't, do you, at least no' very often?'
'Potentially, every day you pul on that uniform, you're going to see something very unpleasant. The second week I was out on patrol, I was cal ed to a traffic accident out on Queensferry Road; three young girls, all pissed, in somebody's daddy's Rover. All pissed, like I said, and all very dead. I picked one kid's head off the road and put it back in the car, then I was sick in the gutter.
'Two weeks later, my partner and I answered a call to a flat in Morningside. One of the neighbours had complained about the smell.
As it happened, it was coming from an old lady who'd died of a heart attack, in front of her electric fire, about a week or so earlier.
We had to break into the house.
'I don't want to sound hard. Sauce, but if you're squeamish about this job, you'd better get it out of your system. Have you been out in a patrol car yet, or on the beat?'
'Not yet, ma'am.'
'How long did you say you've been with the force?'
'Four weeks now, ma'am.'
'It's about time you had some outside experience, then. I'l arrange it with Inspector Wright.'
'Yes, ma'am, thank you.' Haddock left, looking significantly more serious than when he had arrived.
Maggie shook her head, sighed, then drew her in-tray across the desk towards her. She had just picked up the first of the weekend reports, from the Oxgangs police office, when there was a faint knock on her door.
'Come in,' she cal ed, but it was opening as she spoke. Chief Superintendent Dan Pringle's lugubrious form stepped into the room.
'Hello, sir,' she exclaimed, surprised.
'Aw, come on, Maggie,' the new head of CID protested. 'Don't start wi' the 'sir' bit, not after pouring me into a taxi last Friday night. I hope that sitting in for Manny English isn't turning you into a book operator too.'
'Sorry, Clan,' she said. 'But you might be right. Our new ACC's a clever so-and-so, you know. I've only been doing the job for a couple of days, and part-time at that, but already it's got me thinking like management.
'I've just had a probationer in here, the lad who's acting as my runner; the boy's nice, and willing, and all the rest, but doesn't understand what the job's real y about, or what it can involve.'
