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

all this in, the front door was open and a woman stood on the step. Tall and thin, her long blond hair snaked in an elegant braid over one shoulder and down almost to her hip. She wore a zip-up hoodie over a plain white T-shirt and those jeans that look like they’re ancient and frayed but most likely came out of the wrapping like that. She stared at him almost frowning as she approached, but she’d let him in the security gate so he assumed that she was short-sighted and had lost her spectacles.

‘Detective Inspector McLean?’ Her voice had a slight American drawl to it, but the intonation was pure Edinburgh. As she spoke, her gaze slid past him to the car, and she broke into a smile. ‘Oh, you drive a ZOE. Snap!’

‘It’s my partner’s, actually. I’m only borrowing it. Yes, I’m DI McLean. My colleague DS Harrison.’ He pulled out his warrant card and held it up, but the woman didn’t bother looking at it. ‘You’re Elizabeth Carter? Mr Galloway’s ex-wife?’

The smile scrunched into a frown at the mention of the name, but it was short-lived. ‘Lizzie. Yes. Brian was my husband. And as the father of my children I should probably be a bit more sad that he’s dead.’ She paused a moment, rubbed at her arms as if only then realising how cold it was. ‘Why don’t you both come in, then? Brian’s mum’s here with the kids. I’ll put the kettle on.’

They followed Lizzie Carter into the house, through a large hallway and out to a spacious and modern kitchen at the rear. Through a set of folding glass doors, a large glass structure covered a swimming pool, with a tidy patio area at the nearest end. The noise of splashing and excited childish shouting echoed through the doorway, bringing with it a sharp tang of chlorinated water.

‘So then. What do you want to talk to me about?’ Carter had her back to them as she talked. She worked her way methodically through various cupboards, bringing out teapot, tea, milk, biscuits and setting them all out before turning.

‘When was the last time you spoke to Mr Galloway?’

Carter tilted her head to one side, her long plait of hair dangling further to the floor like Rapunzel. ‘Let me see. Couple of weeks ago? Could be a month, actually. He wanted to see the boys.’ She nodded her head towards the open door and the pool beyond.

‘And did he? See them, that is?’ Harrison asked.

‘Christ, no. Wouldn’t let that bastard anywhere near them after what he did.’

The kettle clicked, and Carter turned away to deal with the making of tea. McLean let the silence grow as she went through the motions. There was no need to rush, and so far she was being unusually helpful. He’d not eaten in a while either, and didn’t want to jeopardise his chances with a substantial plate of biscuits. After a protracted ritual, Carter put everything on to a tray and lifted it up.

‘Come on. Let’s take this out to the poolside. Irene’s watching the boys, but after . . . this morning, she could probably do with a bit more adult company.’

They stepped from the dry warmth of the kitchen into the steam of the pool house. McLean didn’t want to think how much it cost to keep that pool heated, but it was clearly a source of great enjoyment to the two young boys dive-bombing into the far end before scrambling out and doing it again.

‘Detective Inspector, we meet again.’ Old Mrs Galloway sat at a cast-iron table far enough from the pool to avoid getting accidentally splashed, but close enough that she could keep an eye on her grandsons at play. She half rose, but McLean indicated she should stay seated before introducing Harrison.

‘I have to admit I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Mrs Galloway. I hope the family liaison officer was able to help.’

‘Oh yes, thank you. Nice young lady. Took me home in a panda car and then brought me here. I don’t think what happened this morning’s sunk in yet, if I’m being honest. I expect the shock will hit eventually. Helps to have the boys here. And Lizzie, of course.’

‘How old are they?’ Harrison nodded towards the dive-bombing. Carter answered as she poured tea.

‘Jamie’s eight and his brother Edward’s ten. We’ve not told them about their father yet, but they’ve never really asked about him since the divorce.’

‘He didn’t get visiting rights?’

‘He should have gone to jail for what he did.’

McLean was surprised by the sudden anger in Carter’s voice. ‘I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. As I heard it, he cheated on you, which is certainly grounds for divorce. But jail?’

‘Cheated on me? You make it sound so quaint, Detective Inspector. You know Brian was a rock star, right? Mad Bastard, lead singer of the Idle Lunatics. Scotland’s answer to Oasis.’ Carter spoke in a kind of sing-song voice as she recounted the potted biography. ‘Cheating on me was part of the deal. He was away on tour for months at a time. Groupies throwing themselves at him. Hell, I was one of them, right at the start of it all. I knew about the cheating. But Jenny? The babysitter? She was only thirteen when he raped her. Right here in this very house.’

McLean had taken the opportunity of Carter’s monologue to sneak a biscuit off the plate. Now it was poised halfway to his mouth. It might have only been a few hours since he’d been sent to the tiny house in Fountainbridge, but one of the first things he’d got the team to do was run Galloway’s name through the system. After the mess with Whitaker it had seemed prudent. There’d been a few brushes with the law over the years, but it was all the sort of thing you might expect a rock star to do, and the most recent caution was for possession of marijuana over ten years ago.

‘We don’t have