Read Online Beyond the Rage by Michael J. Malone - Free Book Online Page B

picked up a mug. He took a sip and groaned with pleasure. Then he studied his phone.
    ‘I should just text her again,’ he said to himself. Then to McBain: ‘How come you don’t have a hangover? And talking about locking people up, do you not have work to go to today?’
    Ray nodded. ‘I don’t have a hangover because I didn’t drink that much. You had a good start on me if I remember correctly. And before I go I wanted to talk to you.’
    Kenny was back on the stool, slumped over the breakfast bar. He took another sip, swallowed and nodded once. ‘Right.’
    ‘Your dad’s name was Peter, right?’
    ‘Right,’ Kenny said, sitting up.
    ‘While you were’ – Ray waved a hand in the direction of the bedroom – ‘working on your morning stiffy, I was making a few phone calls.’
    ‘You were? Why?’ Kenny’s face was expressionless.
    ‘I am a detective, Kenny, it’s what I do.’
    ‘In this instance, why?’ Kenny asked. He could hear the anger in his voice and it surprised him. He felt the air between them shift and the energy shrink. He didn’t want Ray to know anything about his father. Didn’t want him to know too much about his family for that matter and this realisation shocked him. What was it, shame? He was what he was. Why was it suddenly an issue? Why couldn’t he care less what his friend thought about him and then worry about the impression knowledge of his family might make?
    ‘Fine.’ Ray gave a shrug that would be the envy of any car salesman in Paris. ‘Just trying to help.’ He drained what was left of his cup and picked his own phone from a pocket. He was fond of telling anyone who would listen that this was a proper phone. All it did was make calls. He managed texts at a push. He scrolled down a few numbers on his contacts.
    ‘I’ll just get a taxi...’
    ‘Okay,’ said Kenny, giving himself a shake. ‘Sorry. What do you know?’
    ‘Kenny, this is obviously new and very raw. You need time to make your own enquiries...’
    ‘Oh for fuck’s sake, McBain, can it. If you’ve got something to tell me, tell me.’
    ‘Seeing you asked so nicely…’ Ray moved to the other seat at the breakfast bar and leaned against it. ‘Your dad disappeared in the early-Nineties, right?’
    Kenny nodded.
    ‘Glasgow might be a big place, Kenny, but it’s a small city. The cops know most of the bad guys. So I called a couple of colleagues to see who might remember a case where a woman committed suicide and the husband disappeared.’
    Again Kenny nodded. He ’d always wondered about that. The police would have been suspicious about his father. A woman dies, seemingly by her own hand, and her husband vanishes shortly after. There must have been some sort of investigation. ‘And...?’
    ‘I’ve been given the name of a retired cop, lives out in Shawlands. Name of Harry Fyfe. Seems he was heavily involved in organised crime in those days. And if anyone heard any rumours of what might have happened it would be him. A bottle of Glenlivet is all that’s required to dislodge a few memories apparently.’
    ‘So we’re going to see him right now?’ Kenny stood up.
    Ray pushed him back down. ‘You’re going nowhere, pal.’ His eyebrows were close to his hairline. ‘You any idea what damage you could cause me if you went there?’
    They had an agreement that their professional lives would never cross. This had never been articulated, but understood from the start. Suddenly, Kenny didn’t care.
    ‘I need to speak to the guy, McBain. I need to...’
    ‘You need to take a breath and think about this.’ Ray took a breath himself as if struggling to contain his irritation. ‘Cops are gossips, Kenny. None more so than retired cops. He’ll be on the phone two minutes after we’re out that door. When he finds out that no one knows who the fuck you are...’
    ‘On this occasion, I have to...’
    ‘Kenny, you need to think about this. He’ll know as soon as you walk in that door that you are