Read Online Driftnet by Lin Anderson - Free Book Online

out who the boy was
yet?’
    ‘As a matter of
fact we have. The mother will know by now, and the Evening Post
too, I expect.’
    ‘Jim’ll go in
after this, you know.’
    Bill smiled
sympathetically at her, wondering how often Margaret had said the
same thing about him.
    The car was
silent on the way back. Helen concentrated on the road. Margaret
leaned against him, her eyes half closed. Connelly seemed lost in
thought. When they reached the house, Bill thanked Helen for a good
night, thinking Connelly was asleep. He wasn’t. When they got out,
he rolled down the passenger window and called after them as they
went up the path.
    ‘Judge MacKay
is a good friend of Sir James Dalrymple, you know. And Sir James
plays golf with your Superintendent... Cosy, isn’t it?’
    Bill lifted his
hand in a wave, as the car took off. The trouble was, Connelly was
probably right. Well, good luck to him. If he was brave enough to
lift the lid on the upper echelons of the police force, he was a
braver man than most.
     
     

Chapter 8
    Chrissy moved
from one foot to the other to kill the cramp. Apart from having
cramp in one leg and wet feet, she was also pissed off. The guy
she’d spoken to had told her to wait here for him, he would only be
five minutes. That had been fifteen minutes ago. Three cars had
slowed down beside her and one had stopped and offered her twenty
quid for a blow job. When she shook her head the man upped his
offer to twenty-five.
    So, she
thought, there was another job where you got to examine as much
semen as you liked. And definitely better paid.
    Chrissy pulled
her jacket tighter across her chest and stuck her hands in her
pockets. Late May or not, it was cold out here. She decided she
would give the guy five more minutes then she was off. Easy money
or not.
    When he
appeared round the side of the building, he nodded at her to walk
beside him and took off down a side street. The street lamps were
coming on, glossy red against the grey night. Chrissy tried to keep
up with him, but he was walking fast and she was always a step
behind. His collar was up, his hands in his pockets too. It seemed
this way of walking was compulsory round here.
    It was funny
meeting Neil MacGregor, here of all places. Chrissy hadn’t seen him
since school, or since he last went to school. And that had been a
long time ago. She had been a year ahead of him in Secondary, but
she knew him. Everyone did. He was the bane of his form teacher’s
life, she remembered. Poor Miss Smith had spent a lot of time
trying to get him to come back to school, but she hadn’t succeeded.
Then he disappeared from home too. Chrissy’s mum said his father
had thrown him out of the house.
    ‘In here,’ Neil
said.
    The close door
was off its hinges, slammed back against the wall. There was dog
dirt on the step and he pushed her out of the way of it and nodded
to her to follow him up the stairs. The stair lights weren’t
working and Chrissy had to hold onto the banister and keep looking
up, where faint street light seeped in through the cupola. His
place was on the third floor and when he opened the door they were
both relieved to get inside.
    The front door
opened on to a small hall which led into a long room with a window
at the end. Chrissy expected the room to be a mess and was
embarrassed to find she was wrong. There was a double bed at one
end. The wall nearest the door held a couch (sloping slightly), a
chair, a telly and a stereo. It was better than the room she had at
home, she thought.
    He locked the
door behind her and Chrissy had a sudden thought that she was
stupid coming in here with him, alone. But when he turned to face
her, he had that same old grin on his face, as full of cheek as
ever.
    ‘Funny,’ he
said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a peg at the back of
the door. ‘I always wanted to shag Chrissy McInsh. All the time we
went to school together.’
    ‘I was the only
one you didn’t shag.’
    He laughed. It
was true.