What Will Burn by James Oswald (ebook reader web .txt) 📕

when I tell them we’ll keep them safe.’ Janie walked off before she lost her temper, or had to hear any reply, only stopping when she reached the front door and saw Lofty wasn’t following. ‘Come on, then,’ she shouted. Eventually the detective constable nodded goodbye to his friend and followed her inside.

‘Was that really necessary, Janie?’ he asked once they’d stepped into the reception area.

‘Was what necessary?’

‘Chewing wee Davey’s ear off like that. And what you said about Fielding. He’s the injured party here, remember?’

Janie stopped herself from shaking her head. This wasn’t the time or place to get into an argument with a colleague she had a lot of respect for, even if on this particular point he was as wrong as wrong could be.

‘Let’s just get this over with, shall we?’ She went to the reception desk and showed her warrant card. Before she could even ask, the receptionist pointed to a door across the hall.

‘Mr Fielding’s in the Walter Scott bar at the moment.’

Janie thanked the man, then led Lofty in the direction they’d been pointed. The Walter Scott bar was much like any posh hotel bar, quieter than most pubs and with an interior design that leaned rather too heavily on shiny red leather and polished wood for her tastes. Standing in the doorway, she didn’t have time to scan the whole room before an angry voice piped up from a table of people off to one side.

‘Detective Sergeant Harrison. It’s about bloody time someone showed up.’

What was it the boss said to do in situations like this? A silent count to ten, wasn’t it? Janie curled her hands into loose fists as she let the numbers grow, then turned slowly to meet her accuser, fake smile plastered across her face.

‘Mr Fielding. I’m so sorry your event was disrupted. I gather nobody was hurt?’ A slight inflection at the end of the sentence made it a question, even though she knew the answer. It was more an invitation to the man to talk, which he clearly needed to do. Or at least rant.

‘It’s a disgrace. You should have moved them on when I asked you to. None of this would have happened if you’d just done your job.’

Janie only half heard what the man had to say. She was too busy looking at the group of men who were sitting with him. She didn’t immediately recognise any of them, but they all seemed cast from the same mould. Middle-aged, fairly well-to-do, well groomed and yet somehow greasy. Or was that just her prejudices getting the better of her? Only one of the men seemed out of place. A bit younger than the rest, rougher around the edges. He caught her eye and then looked away like a guilty suspect.

‘I can assure you we take the matter most seriously, Mr Fielding. I will speak with hotel security and find out how the protesters got in. As I’m sure you’re well aware though, whilst they were outside and not causing an actual public nuisance, there wasn’t much we could do about them.’

She knew it wasn’t going to mollify him, and she wasn’t disappointed. Perhaps it had been a mistake coming here; better to have sent a male officer. Maybe even Lofty on his own, although Janie knew that Fielding would have taken it as an insult to be dealt with by a mere constable.

‘Preposterous.’ He mangled the word, something of his true nature fighting through the false posh Edinburgh accent he affected most of the time. ‘I’ll see the ones who broke in prosecuted. Mark my words. They’ll do time for this.’

Janie found herself clenching her fists even tighter, started mentally counting to ten again. To her surprise, and relief, Lofty stepped in before she could say anything she might regret later.

‘Did any of the women say anything, sir?’ He had his notebook out, and even though Janie could see he’d not written anything down, it was an effective prop. Fielding clearly liked being called sir too.

‘The redhead called me a paedophile, which is gross slander, I’ll have you know. The rest of them were just screaming like witches. Horrible racket, wasn’t it, lads?’ Fielding finally turned to his companions. Janie noticed that none of them looked too happy about being dragged into the conversation, with the exception of the younger man. Maybe he had less of a reputation to lose, or maybe he hadn’t yet understood what his being associated with Fielding might mean.

‘It was like they were zombies or something. Ken that movie wi’ the pod people? Had Spock from Star Trek in it, aye? The first Spock, ken? No’ that new chappie. What’s it called?’

‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers?’ Janie had to admit she was impressed the man would know about an old movie like that. He seemed more the football and beer type. Then again, it was never a good idea to judge a person solely by their appearance. Or even the company they kept.

‘Aye, that’s the one. See that fella at the end, how he kind of points and screams? That’s what they was like in there.’ The young man nodded his head in the direction of the conference room. His companions looked embarrassed to be seen out with him, but he seemed to be warming to his theme.

‘Would you be prepared to make a statement, Mr . . . ?’ Janie let the question hang, hopeful that the young man might give her his name. Fielding had other plans, however.

‘I’m sure there’ll be time for that later. When you’ve pressed charges against the miscreants.’

‘You’re a lawyer, Mr Fielding, so I’m sure you understand how these things work. My job is to collect evidence and build a case before charges can be brought. If you’d like to give me a list of the names of everyone who attended this evening’s meeting, I can take statements from them all. This is, after all, a very serious breach of the peace.’

Something close to anger flitted across Fielding’s face.