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

maternity leave, you would be with me front and centre. However, this is an important case. We’re all going in.’

‘Including Lillian?’

Harry hesitated. ‘Yes. And Eve Ross. And Karen Shiels. All the women I work with.’

She smiled at him. ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry I got all…jumpy.’

‘Listen, we can go for a walk before dinner. I’ll get Muckle to bring Sparky round. Chance and Katie are watching him today, as Vern, Muckle and Wee Shug will be giving us their input. Only Muckle worked the missing girl case five years ago, but many hands make light work and all that.’

He looked across the table at her and knew he was more in love with her than he had ever been. All the moods, the shouting, the swearing, it wasn’t the real Alex. It was the baby inside her that was causing the change, but hopefully when she had given birth, things would go back to normal.

‘You know I love you, don’t you?’ he said to her.

‘I know. I hate feeling like this.’

‘More sick than you were at T in the Park?’

‘That was a breeze compared to this.’

‘Plus you could drop your drawers and have a pish anywhere you liked and nobody batted an eye.’

‘Get a grip of yourself,’ she said, laughing. ‘But you’re not far wrong.’

He looked at his watch. ‘I’d better get a move on.’

‘You’re the boss. You’re allowed to be late. Come back to bed and show me how much you love me.’

‘Later, honey, I promise. But if you need me for anything – apart from sex, that is – give me a call. Or even better, call Chance. He and Katie won’t be far.’

‘Okay, go. Before I throw myself at you.’

He laughed and got up from the table. ‘Save your energy for later.’

Seventeen

‘Are you trying to fucking kill me, ya hoor?’ Dougie Wilson said, stopping for a moment and putting a hand on his side.

‘What’s wrong with you? Big fanny,’ Alec Redfern said, stopping to jog on the spot.

‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

‘Christ, we’re in the street. You going to stand there and let loose like some manky old jakie? Have a word with your fucking self.’

‘A wee jog along the beach, you said. Get a bit fresh air into our lungs, you said. What you did not say, and correct me if I’m wrong, was that I would be needing an oxygen tank for the rest of my life.’

‘Bloody drama queen.’

They had just run across the Burntisland Links, and now they were continuing across the little bridge that straddled the Fife railway line. Redfern jogged on the spot, looking over the wall. Arthur’s Seat sat in the distance, across the cold water.

‘We want to be fit, don’t we?’ Redfern said, his breath blowing out like smoke in the cold morning air. Sunday, first thing, was the best time to go running, with nobody out. ‘You ready yet?’

‘I’m dying here, Alec. I wish I’d never started this nonsense. I could have been lying in my bed right now, tucked up under the covers. Instead, here I am, running. And not running for my life or anything, just…running.’

‘You are running for your life.’

Wilson straightened up, hoping this was all going to be worth it in the end. ‘Joggers drop dead of a heart attack, I hope you know that.’

‘Come on, let’s get going. It’s downhill to the promenade, then five minutes and we’ll be back at the car.’

Wilson groaned. He was a lot heavier than Redfern, carrying weight round his belly. Unlike his friend, who was almost stick thin.

They started jogging again, Wilson still lagging behind. Over on the left was the Beacon Leisure Centre, the coloured enclosed tubes of the water slides coming out of one part of the building and going back in lower down.

Wilson thought about how good it would be to just float on a lilo in the water right now, rather than trying to become a lung donor.

‘I told you, didn’t I? I told you we’d do it.’

Wilson couldn’t take a deep enough breath to tell his friend to go fuck himself, so he kept quiet, concentrating on not dropping down dead.

They crossed the car park entrance at the mini roundabout, the centre on their left now.

‘I’m really going to be sick,’ Wilson said.

‘Aw, what? You’re not serious.’

‘I am, Alex. I shouldn’t have had those bacon rolls before I came out.’

‘Bacon rolls? Fat bastard. I told you not to eat anything. Aw, for God’s sake. Look at you. You’re like a pig that knows it’s going to be a packet of bacon at any minute. Jesus fuck. You look like a bag of shite.’

Wilson stopped next to a brick enclosure where the rubbish bins from the leisure centre were kept and heaved against the wall.

‘God al-fucking-mighty, that’s stinking. Jesus, you’re giving me the fucking boak now.’ Redfern stepped away from his friend and looked up the elevated concrete walkway that led to the delivery entrance of the centre. He stood stock still, not quite believing his eyes.

A girl was sitting propped up against the brick wall. She was wrapped in shrink wrap, with only her head and feet showing.

Their jog for the day was over.

Eighteen

There was a murmur in the incident room as Harry walked in. He’d called Dunbar a few minutes earlier and been told they were on their way. ‘Me and Robbie and that manky bastard will be there shortly,’ were Dunbar’s exact words. Harry didn’t want to know.

‘Morning, folks,’ he said, and at that minute their Glaswegian colleagues came in.

‘Anybody got a kettle on?’ Stewart said by way of a greeting.

‘It’s just gone off,’ DC Simon Gregg said. At six foot six, he was bigger than Stewart, but not by much.

‘Coffee’s not going to pour itself, son. Milk, no sugar. And if you gob in it, I’ll rip your balls off and give them to Twinkle Toes for a pair of earrings.’

The others looked at each other, wondering which one of them was Twinkle Toes, and