A Song for the Dying

53

Haar curled in off the North Sea, hiding the headland on the other side of the bay. Turned everything into a pale facsimile. A photocopy of a photocopy, faded and indistinct.

Two figures picked their way along the sand, just visible through the fog, one large in a leather jacket and eye-patch, one small in a stripy top.

A tiny dot of black scampered away from them, then back again, its high-pitched barks muffled by distance and weather.

On the other end of the phone, Detective Superintendent Ness sighed. ‘And don’t get me started on the trial — It’s like a bloody circus.’

I leaned on the fencepost outside the cottage, took another sip of tea. ‘Let me guess, Docherty’s being a dick?’

‘And it’s not as if I haven’t got enough on my plate with this Kerrigan business. Interpol couldn’t be more of a pain in the backside if they tried.’

‘Ah, no joy with the CCTV then?’

‘None. How do two thugs manage to make every bit of security camera footage disappear from a hospital?’

Wasn’t that difficult if you knew the right people. ‘No idea.’

Down on the beach, Henry the Scottie Dog made a dash for the water’s edge, then yipped and yapped his way back, bouncing up and down in front of Alice.

‘And you’re sure you didn’t see anything?’

‘Wish I had. But by the time I got there, it was all over.’

Of course, the receptionist on the private ward could’ve made life a little difficult, but one mention of Andy Inglis’s name and the poor lad came down with amnesia.

‘Gah… You know, I don’t even have last names for them? “Francis” and “Joseph”, that’s all anyone seems to know. How am I supposed to get international arrest warrants based on that?’

Down on the beach, they must have had enough, because Alice and Shifty started back towards the cottage, Henry running loops around them, barking his wee hairy head off.

A sigh. ‘So how’s Dr McDonald getting on?’

Still waking up screaming in the middle of the night. Still sitting in the kitchen at two in the morning, sobbing. Still drinking too much. At least the nightmares were beginning to thin out a bit. But Ness didn’t need to know that.

‘Alice is good. Enjoying the quiet life for a change.’ I swirled the tea dregs around the mug, then flung them out into the haar. ‘Listen, I know you’re up to your eyeballs, but if you fancy some time off, you should come visit. We’ll have a proper Scottish barbecue: sausages, drizzle, and midges.’

There was a pause. ‘Is this… Would this be a date, Mr Henderson?’

‘I keep telling you: it’s Ash.’

A smile crept into her voice. ‘I might take you up on that.’

Henry charged up the grass bank and wriggled under the bottom wire of the fence. Planted all four feet on the tarmac and shook the saltwater off his coat. Alice grinned behind him, one arm linked with Shifty. She raised her other hand and waved.

OK, so it wasn’t Australia, and we didn’t have a pool, but it was still pretty damn good.