Against the Clock by John Carson (best mobile ebook reader TXT) 📕

into the chilly night. A bus pulled away from the stop and whizzed past. Taxis were heading back into town to pick up more fares.

‘You like living down here?’ Harry asked as they crossed the road.

‘I do. It’s a great area.’

‘I know you’re filling in for Alex just now, but if the position became permanent, would you take it? I mean, we could do with an extra sergeant.’

‘I’d love to, but I’m not setting the bar too high. I went into this knowing it was only to cover maternity leave, but I thought I would get a lot of experience from it.’

They entered Dean Park Street, then walked round to the right, heading along to Lillian’s street.

‘Is it a man?’ Harry asked. ‘If it’s not too personal a question.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘That made you change pubs. Are you avoiding a man? I mean, it’s none of my business; I just know what it’s like. Alex had the same problem.’

‘Oh no, nothing like that. I’ve never been married and I left a long-term relationship behind a long time ago. I just had a falling-out with a friend of mine. I don’t want to bump into her.’

‘What about your other friends?’

‘They’re mostly in the force. You know what it’s like; a lot of your friends don’t want to be your friend anymore when you join up.’

‘I know. Try being in Professional Standards, investigating other cops. They avoid you like a leper after that. Luckily, the team I lead aren’t like that. They’re a good bunch.’

‘I know. I asked about you before I accepted the position, and if I hadn’t felt comfortable coming to work for you, I would have given it a miss.’

‘I’m glad I meet with your approval.’

Lillian stopped. ‘Well, this is me.’

‘Right. Sorry about us having to go in on a Sunday, but there are two teenage girls missing and I’d like to liaise with the people who are looking for them.’

‘No need for apologies, sir. It’s our line of work. Criminals don’t take weekends off. There’s a good chance they’re connected.’

‘Could be, but he took younger kids the last time, if it is the same guy. Unfortunately, there are a lot of them going around.’

‘Aye, I know. We need to catch this scumbag soon.’

‘We’ll do our best, Lillian.’

Harry shrugged into his coat for a second as a cold wind hit them.

‘Well, goodnight, sir,’ Lillian said.

‘Goodnight. See you in the morning.’

Harry waited until she was up at the door to her stairs, then she gave a small wave as she went in and he walked away, round the corner to his own flat.

Upstairs, Alex was asleep in bed. Harry slept on the couch.

Fifteen

‘These tattie scones are belters,’ DSup Calvin Stewart said as Jimmy Dunbar came into the dining room of the hotel. ‘I’ve just asked the lassie for more. Cutting back on the beans, though. I can feel them ten-pin bowling in my guts and it wouldn’t do to fart in the dining room. That used to piss off my wife, me letting rip at the table.’

And yet you still don’t understand why she left you, Dunbar thought. ‘No, it wouldn’t do to honk out the room right enough.’

Stewart clacked his knife and fork around his plate, looking up to see where his extra tattie scones had got to. ‘I hope that fucking lassie hurries up. I’ve still got half the scran on the plate and I want to mix it with the scones.’

Dunbar was always amazed at how Stewart could put his food away and yet didn’t look like he had any fat on him. He was a big man, with big hands and a thick neck, and he looked like he could beat a tank into submission, but he wasn’t fat.

‘Sit down, Jimmy; you’re making yourself look like a poorly dressed waiter. But having said that, go and get us both a coffee from the jugs on the table. I’m almost done with this one.’

Please and thank you, ignorant bastard. Dunbar waited for Stewart to slurp the rest of his coffee down and wipe his face before accepting the empty mug.

‘Just milk. I’m watching my figure.’

‘That’s a bit of an oxymoron, sir,’ Dunbar said, nodding to the heaped plate. Emphasis on the fucking moron.

‘Keeping the blood sugar under control is the key, Jimmy. I don’t want to end up a fat bastard like you.’ Stewart grinned. Dunbar didn’t have an ounce of fat on him.

He was tempted to gob in Stewart’s coffee, but took it back unmolested and sat down at the table.

‘What’s that place along from the hotel?’ Stewart asked, beaming when he saw the waitress coming with the tattie scones.

‘It’s a fitness centre. Maybe you could pop along after downing all this. Work it off.’

‘Thanks, love,’ he said as the waitress scooped the food onto his plate. ‘My colleague here would like some of the same.’

She smiled at Dunbar, raising her eyebrows.

‘Aye, go on then. Thanks, hen.’

‘No bother,’ the young woman said, walking away.

‘The only thing I’ll be working off is a bottle of Scotch tonight.’

‘I can’t argue with that.’

‘Is that wee bawbag coming down for breakfast?’ Stewart said, piling food onto his fork and stuffing it into his mouth.

Dunbar had forgotten all about Evans staying out late with Vern.

‘I don’t know if he’ll have breakfast or not. You know what the young crowd are like.’

‘If he’s been up the road messing about with that lassie and he’s late, he’ll hear about it from me.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be down on time.’ Or the wee bastard will hear about it from me.

‘You spoke to that Morton bloke who owns the bus company. You think he’s dodgy?’ Stewart asked between mouthfuls.

‘I’m not sure he’s dodgy, but this is like a jigsaw puzzle that’s been emptied out onto a table. The pieces are all there and you can see the picture, but it’s not quite there yet. That’s the feeling I get from him: he’s part of the puzzle, but I’m not sure how he fits in yet.’

‘Go and