major way. They still needed to keep a presence here, though, keep the supply chains open for the European plants and fat Davie went it alone.’
‘Michael tell you this?’
I nodded. ‘Davie was manufacturing bits and pieces — soldering circuit boards and popping in memory SIMMS for the PCs. Stuff a trained monkey could do, but it needed doing and he had the contracts, big poppy behind him. That’s how Michael got hooked up: fat Davie needed a haulier and Michael’s firm fitted the bill.’
‘Sounds like a cushy set-up.’
I dropped a gear as we came off Leith Walk and onto Pilrig Street, gunned the engine to put the tram works behind us, said, ‘Well, it was…’
‘Joint in trouble now?’
‘That I don’t know. His wife was a bit vague.’
Mac pointed out the window. ‘Seen the nick of this place?’ Boarded-up shopfronts and ‘closed’ signs. ‘Everyone’s feeling it, mate.’
I started sweating and yabbering as the amphetamine worked its magic. ‘Well, I know this much, if Davie Prentice is feeling it, we’re all fucked. He’s the type makes money from muck. Then there’s my brother’s lodger-’
Mac cut me off: ‘A fucking lodger in the Grange?’
I turned, rapid nods. ‘Aye, that’s what I thought. Jayne said it was temporary, that Michael was helping this Vilem guy out.’
‘You think yer brother’s missus is busy with the lodger?’
I shut him down: ‘No way. Never. That’s not Jayne’s style. She was devoted to Michael.’
‘Okay… if you say so.’
A teeny skank in skinny jeans that hung below his arse stepped in front of the car. I hit the anchors; Mac hit the horn, yelled, ‘Ye twat!’ The kid couldn’t hear a word — headphones that wouldn’t look out of place on a road- drill worker — and kept walking, oblivious. As the car slid to a halt on the slippy road Mac shook his head. ‘No sense of danger.’
I agreed: ‘Walking in front of a car, in this weather — lunacy.’
‘I’m not talking about that.’ He whipped out the claw hammer, put it on the dash. ‘I could’ve brained the cunt. That thing nearly cut me in two.’
I was glad to have Mac beside me. There had been times in the past when I thought the friendship was at an end.
‘How you faring this weather, Mac?’
He scratched the corner of his mouth, inflated his chest, said, ‘Och, you know me.’
I knew better than to press him. ‘What about Hod? He putting any work your way?’
‘Bit… you know how it is.’
I didn’t like the sound of that. Hod, our mutual friend, had taken over the Holy Wall pub, once a going concern but truly junked after my efforts. ‘How’s the Wall looking?’
‘You not been in yet?’
‘Uh-uh.’ I couldn’t face it.
‘It’s a bit plush, but fur coat and nae knickers if you ask me.’
True Scots wisdom, defies logic.
‘Sounds… different.’
‘Well, he’s taken down your pictures of the dogs playing snooker, if that’s what you mean.’
‘The heathen.’
‘You’ll have to pay a visit.’
‘Yeah well, when I’m a bit more flush.’
‘You still looking for work?’
I gave him a look that said Isn’t everyone? ‘There’s nothing out there. My racket’s finished: they write newspapers with work experience and student interns these days.’
Mac followed a loose train of thought: ‘Still, you have this to be going on with.’
This wasn’t any kind of work either, deffo not anything I wanted to pursue, even if I had Debs’s approval for it — which I certainly didn’t.
As we reached the factory gates, the conversation shifted immediately — we weren’t alone.
‘What’s the filth doing here?’ said Mac.
I pulled up the car, yanked the handbrake on. ‘Mugging my hole.’
Chapter 5
The dog got excited, prowled the length of the back seat, jumped up to the window and scratched at the glass. I pointed him down. He sat, then lay on his stomach watching Mac and me as we readied ourselves.
‘Get that hammer under the front seat,’ I told him.
He grabbed it off the dash, stashed it away. ‘The powder — get it over.’ He opened the glovebox, made space among the petrol receipts and empty Smints boxes Debs stored in there. I passed over the speed and gave him a nod of recognition.
We opened doors, got out and started to cross the road.
A cold haar blew off the sea — felt like we’d be encased in ice in seconds. I remembered Shir Shean’s advice from The Untouchables and stamped my feet: made no difference, but set Mac off.
‘What you doing?’
‘Stamping out the cold. It’s the haar.’
‘Hardy-haar… Don’t be daft, you look mental. Want us lifted?’
The smell of frying onions came wafting our way from a burger van. Bloke inside looked out and nodded. He was after the goss on the police visit, or maybe a quick sale. I fired him back a friendly wave: ‘Something smells good.’ A bloody lie, but thought he might be useful to me at some point.
I felt the speed racing through my veins now. I had a slight twitch on my upper lip but I was primed, ready for action. Fitz the Crime had let me think my brother’s murder was an open-and-shut case: coming down to Newhaven to turn over his business didn’t square with that.
As I reached the front doors I caught sight of two uniforms coming our way down the corridor: they were getting gloved up. At their backs was Fitz, kitted out in a chalk-stripe three-piece and a red tie. It was an outfit designed to make those he met feel underdressed. Well, he was mixing with the seriously wedged-up — can’t expect him to turn up in his baffies.
The doors eased open and the two uniforms passed by us without a nod. Mac eyed them up and down and got some stares, reminded the pair of shitheads to strut, shoulders back. Funny the effect Mac has on some people, I thought.
When Fitz reached us, Davie Prentice came into view behind him. He copped an eyeful of me and lunged for Fitz’s hand, a great sweeping shake that near raised him off the ground. ‘Well, if there’s anything else I can do, please don’t hesitate to get back in touch,’ said Davie.
I watched this scene, my gut fighting to keep its contents in.
As fat Davie dropped Fitz’s hand, I said, ‘I’d count those fingers now, if I were you.’
Silence.
Davie was first to gasp into action, a histrionic luvvie air shining from him. ‘Gus, I’m so sorry for your loss… Michael will be missed.’
I raised a hand, said, ‘Really?’
The tension jumped a notch. Fitz broke it, turned to Davie and thanked him for his help, then, ‘Dury, if I may…?’ He indicated the car park; a quiet confab was called for. A warning, perhaps?
Davie went inside and Fitz quickly turned me by the elbow, led me away. As he passed Mac he stopped, rocked on his shiny brogues and said, ‘I might have feckin’ known you’d be putting in an appearance. Slightest whiff of trouble, yer like a feckin’ dog with two dicks.’
