Torch (3 page)

Rhona ignored
the jibe.

‘So. How long
have you been doing this job?’

‘I’ve been in
Glasgow three years...’ She began the usual answer but he didn’t
give her a chance to finish.

‘Three years.
Wow. Long time.’

She ignored the
sarcasm and continued. ‘I was seven years at the Forensic Lab in
Birmingham before that.’

He took another
bite of the sausage. ‘You married?’

She hadn’t been
expecting that one.

‘Thought not,’
he said when she didn’t answer.

‘What’s that
supposed to mean?’

‘No time?’ he
suggested, the sarcasm back.

‘No
inclination,’ Rhona said firmly.

He laid down
the knife and fork and reached for her hand catching her completely
off guard. The hand that held hers was warm and dry, the grasp firm
but not tight. He pulled it towards the coffee pot and held it
there for a moment.

‘Ever been
burned?’

She pulled her
hand free.

‘Yes... no...
not really.’

‘What does that
mean, not really?’

‘It means
nothing serious,’ she said firmly.

He shook his
head. ‘You don’t know fire until you’ve been burned.’

‘I
disagree.’

‘Gallagher had
ten years’ experience in this game.’

‘And he’s a
man.’

He didn’t miss
the icy sarcasm.

‘With a strong
stomach.’

If she hadn’t
been so angry, Rhona would have laughed. ‘I wasn’t sick because of
the body.’

‘This isn’t a
job for a pregnant woman. There are fumes, asbestos dust... ’

He was
unbelievable. Rhona lifted her coat from the back of the chair.

‘Where are you
going?’

This time she
had caught him off guard.

‘I’m going to
do what I came to do. My job.’

MacRae wasn’t
defeated, yet. ‘No assistant of mine goes into that building until
it’s structurally safe.’

Rhona was aware
that at least half the café was listening to their argument. She
raised her voice for the benefit of the other half.

‘You’d better
find your assistant and tell them that, then.’

‘Look,
lady...’

‘No, you look
Mr MacRae. I am not your ‘lady’ assistant. I am a Forensic
Scientist. You, I believe, are a fire investigator. Together we can
find out why and how this fire happened or I can catch the next
train to Glasgow. Either way I’m happy, although I think your
superiors may not be pleased if I choose the second option.’

MacRae’s
expression didn’t change. He stood up and looked at his watch.

‘I have an
appointment to keep,’ he said. ‘No one goes into the building until
I get back.’

Rhona watched
him leave, irritated with herself for handling the meeting badly.
MacRae didn’t want her there, that was obvious. Exactly why, she
wasn’t so sure.

Sev got to the
Family Reconciliation Office at 11.35am. It wasn’t soon enough for
Gillian. The meeting had started badly and was deteriorating every
time he opened his mouth. The counsellor was doing her best but
what a sixty-year-old woman with hair like the Queen could tell him
about marriage wasn’t what he wanted to know. He wanted to see
Gillian alone, not as part of a family reconciliation sandwich.

The counsellor
wasn’t giving up. Awkward customers like him were her bread and
butter.

‘Mr MacRae. I
believe you would like to discuss your daughter.’

That was
rich.

‘No. I’d like
to see my daughter.’

Gillian wasn’t
letting him away with that.

‘You do see
Amy. You see her more now than when you were at home.’

The way she
said it sounded as if he had left home by choice. Sev stopped
himself blurting that out, just as a fire engine went past, siren
blaring. His first impulse was to go to the window but he already
knew which direction it was heading. Besides Gillian would be
watching his reaction, ready to jump on it like a dog on a bone. He
sat still.

‘You’re not
listening,’ she said.

He tried to
keep his tone patient. He sounded long-suffering.

‘I am
listening.’

‘Not to
us.’

It was the
counsellor’s turn.

‘Mr MacRae,
your wife is concerned about the effect your work has on your
family.’

‘I have to
work,’ he said. ‘Everyone has to work.’

‘Not
twenty-four hours a day.’

Gillian was
right but it didn’t make it any easier.

Sev was waiting
for the other fire engine, knowing it was only a matter of time.
Tollcross was a good unit. Fast. The second engine would only be
seconds behind the first. It was.

‘Like now,’
Gillian said, vindicated.

Sev tried to
smile, feeling his face shift under the weight of it. Gillian was
right. He was working just now. He was working out what the
addition of a female forensic would do to the fire-raiser’s view of
the current situation. If the fire-raiser liked watching him, he
would like watching the woman even more.

MacRae dragged
himself back to the present. ‘I’m not working right now,’ he
lied.

‘No, but you’re
thinking about work right now.’

The counsellor
came back in like a good referee.

‘It would seem
important to both of you that the issue of your daughter is
resolved,’ she suggested.

‘That’s why we
should discuss custody.’ Sev watched fear blossom in Gillian’s eyes
as he said this, and was sorry. But he wasn’t going to back down on
this one. Gillian might be giving up on him but he couldn’t live
without his daughter.

‘It’s not
called custody now, Mr MacRae. It’s called residence and... ’

Sev wasn’t
interested in what it was called.

‘If she wants
to break up the marriage, then I want to look after Amy.

‘That wouldn’t
work.’

Sev was looking
straight at Gillian, willing her to see how he really felt behind
the anger and the bravado and the hurt. ‘I don’t want to be a
part-time father,’ he said, and meant it.

But Gillian was
there before he finished the sentence. ‘You always were.’

The drill of
his mobile saved the counsellor the bother of another intervention.
It was MacFarlane. Sev had left him in charge of the scene and Dr
MacLeod until he got back. He suspected MacFarlane had his work cut
out.

‘Just keep her
away from the building until I get there.’

When he turned
back, Gillian was on her feet.

‘I take it
you’re leaving?’ she asked.

‘I can wait
till we’re finished.’

‘We’re finished
now.’

‘I suggest,’
the counsellor was brisk, ‘we start ten minutes earlier next time.
Make up the time lost today.’

Sev followed
Gillian down the steps. He could tell how bad she felt by the
stiffness of her back. He wanted to put his arm around her, hold
her. Instead, he stood beside her on the pavement with his hands in
his pockets.

‘I’ll see you
Friday then.’

Gillian nodded
and turned to go. ‘If you want to see Amy before then...’ she
looked back at him, ‘she’s been asking for you.’

‘I’ll phone and
arrange something for tonight,’ he promised.

‘Just because
we’re in a mess, doesn’t mean Amy has to be,’ Gillian said
quietly.

Her sudden
vulnerability made MacRae take her hand. This time she didn’t pull
it away.

‘Gillian...’ he
began.

His mobile
vibrated against his chest. MacRae swore and reached in to switch
it off.

Gillian’s voice
was resigned. ‘You’d better answer it.’

‘I don’t have
to.’ He sounded desperately torn even to himself.

Gillian gave
him a look that suggested that in the end he didn’t have any real
choice.

‘Okay,’ he
reached in his jacket. ‘Give me a minute.’

She nodded, but
when he turned back after speaking to MacFarlane she had gone.

Chapter 5

Jaz walked
through the railway station, shouting a ‘Hi’ to the woman on the WH
Smith counter. He bought a coffee at the kiosk on the corner and
sat down on a bench to drink it. He was later than usual this
morning and the rush was over. The rush hour wasn’t a good time for
him anyway. The punters were in too much of a hurry to get to work.
He just got in the way.

Now was the
time for shoppers and tourists. Most of the shoppers were regular
as clockwork. He even knew some of their names. Mrs Paterson from
Musselburgh, off the train every Monday at eleven o’clock. She
always bought a Big Issue from him. Sometimes she gave him a
home-baked scone or cake. Even complained to him about her husband.
Jaz didn’t mind. At least Mrs Paterson spoke to him like he was a
human being.

He finished his
coffee and headed for the exit, just as the ten twenty from Glasgow
pulled in. He wanted to be ready with the magazines. Glaswegians
had a reputation for generosity.

From his pitch
he could see the Edinburgh skyline. The Castle and Law Courts to
the left, the central sweep of the Gardens leading to the Art
Gallery, and on the right the Scott Monument. Tourists loved this
view. Jaz would watch them emerge from the bowels of the station
into daylight and the sudden splendour of the city. The Athens of
the north, he’d read that somewhere. In summer it was occasionally
true.

Today was dull
with a cold wind from the east and the odd spit of rain. The
tourists didn’t care. As soon as they spotted the Castle, the
cameras were out. If only he had ten pence for every photo taken of
Edinburgh Castle, Jaz thought.

It was then he
noticed the smoke. A blanket of it lay to the north-west of the
city. He was so busy staring at it, he didn’t notice the pretty
blonde woman who was trying to buy a magazine. She handed him a two
pound coin and he tried to give her change but she wouldn’t take
it.

He stayed on
his pitch until curiosity got the better of him. At least half a
dozen of his regulars had already asked if he’d heard about the
fire on Princes Street. The police had cordoned off part of the
road but you could get a view from the Gardens, they said.

It seemed he
wasn’t the only one keen to get a look. Around the Ross Bandstand
half of Edinburgh seemed to be spending lunchtime in the Gardens
despite the cold weather.

Jaz wasn’t
surprised to see Emperor standing by the railing at the top of the
steep bank of roses. He’d half expected to see Karen in the Gardens
anyway. She usually brought Emps in for a run sometime during the
day. But not as early as this. Lunchtime was busy for her. People
strolling along Rose Street liked to hear her play.

The dog started
to howl, a mournful sound. Jaz hurried up the steep bank. A tent
was erected on the pavement and just left of it, the dog was tied
to a railing.

Jaz stuck his
hand through and rubbed the dog’s ears. ‘Hey Emps.’

‘Watch out,
son. He might bite.’ A policeman had emerged from the tent and was
coming towards him.

‘No he won’t.
Will you boy?’

The dog stopped
whining and started to growl as the policeman approached.

‘Where’s
Karen?’ Jaz was talking to the dog but it was the policeman who
answered.

‘Who’s
Karen?’

Jaz stood up.
‘Emps belongs to a girl called Karen.’

The policeman
was interested. ‘Is this Karen a friend of yours?’

‘I know
her.’

‘Could you come
round here and tell us a bit about Karen.’

‘Why? What’s
happened?’ Jaz was suddenly frightened. Karen wouldn’t tie Emps to
a railing and abandon him.

There was a
funny look on the policeman’s face. ‘A girl... We think she was
asleep in the doorway when the fire... ’

‘Karen’s dead?’
Jaz felt dazed. A picture formed in his mind, fingers coaxing music
from the whistle, her eyes closed, her mind somewhere else. Always
somewhere away from here and now.

‘We need to
contact her family to identify...’

Jaz’s brain was
stupid with pain. ‘Karen hasn’t got a family.’

‘Everybody’s
got a family, son.’

‘That’s shite!’
The shout caught in his throat. ‘Karen had no one,’ he looked down,
‘except Emperor.’ The dog whined and pawed at his leg.

‘What’s going
to happen to Emperor?’

‘We’ve called
the RSPCA.’

‘They’ll put
him down.’

The policeman
was getting out his notebook. ‘Look son. You give me your name and
address. If we can’t find a relative, maybe you could identify the
girl.’

Jaz spoke
quietly, his mind already made up. ‘Give me the dog.’

‘I can’t do
that...’

Jaz was on his
knees, his hands through the railing, wrestling with the rope
attached to Emperor’s collar. The dog was jumping about, pulling at
the rope. Another policeman was on his way over. The one beside him
was trying persuasion tactics.

‘Look, son.
Come over and give us a contact address. I’ll tell the RSPCA that
you’re interested in the dog and...’

The rope was
almost free.

‘Come on Emps.
Come on boy.’

Jaz started to
run.

Behind him the
dog, suddenly frantic, tore at the remains of the knot, there was a
scrabbling sound and he jumped. Jaz heard the policeman shout as
Emps cleared the spikes and landed in the rose bushes. Jaz kept on
running.

Chapter 6

Rhona had been
hanging around now for almost an hour. DI MacFarlane had been
pleasant but firm. No one was permitted to enter the building until
they were sure it wasn’t in imminent danger of collapse.

They weren’t
waiting for an inspection team to give the all clear. Rhona was
sure of that. They were waiting for MacRae to return from wherever
he disappeared to an hour before. She’d spotted MacFarlane on the
phone looking decidedly rattled. No doubt checking in with his Lord
and Master, she thought unkindly.