Read Online Garnethill by Denise Mina by Garnethill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Garnethill
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business."
"Right enough. I just thought, because of the slashing . . ."
"Slashing people's faces, that's something trainee neds do to show their mates they're hard, they don't even know the person they're doing it to, they just run past the person and—" He flicked his wrist in a way she found worryingly dismissive.
"You've never done that, eh?" she asked timidly.
"Don't be ridiculous." He was staggered at the suggestion. "Do you think I'm capable of that?"
"Not really."
"Mauri, do you really think I'd do that to someone?"
"Auch, no, Liam, no. But I know you're protective of me since I was in hospital."
"Protective?"
"Yeah, protective."
"And I'm stupid enough to think carving up your boyfriend in your own living room is going to protect you from something much worse? Like what? Like falling out with him?"
"Aye, right enough."
"Anyway." He smiled at her. "I'd hardly do it when my alibi would get me arrested, would I? I'd be smarter than that, anyway."
"Auch, I'm sorry, Liam." She smiled back at him. "I'm a bit bewildered today."
She cut a bite out of the bridie and put it in her mouth. It hadn't been microwaved properly and undissolved fat still clung to the slimy inside of the cold pastry wall. She bit down onto a lump of gristle and made a face. "That's disgustin'." She spat it out into a napkin, wrapping it into a little bundle and putting it in the ashtray. Her appetite was gone.
"I'm so fucked," said Liam. "I can't tell them where I was."
"It might have happened at night. That time-of-death stuff isn't a set science, it's just a good guess."
"Did the police tell you that?"
"No," she said. "But the heating was on in the house this morning— it was belting out. I wondered if that could change a time of death."
"How?"
"Well, they work it out by comparing the temperature of the body to the surrounding temperature. What would it be if the person was alive — say, ninety-eight point six degrees?"
"I dunno."
"Anyway, what if the surrounding temperature wasn't constant? That would change the rate of heat loss. What if the heating was turned right up and set to go an hour or so before he was found? That would heat up the house but wouldn't be enough to heat up a body. The police would take his temperature thinking he'd been in a warm house the whole time he'd been dead. They'd think he'd died earlier than he actually did."
"Maureen, what are you rambling about?" said Liam seriously.
"They could have got the time of death wrong. It could have happened in the evening."
He looked confused. "Wouldn't the police think of that, though?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, but even if they did it would still be hard to work out the times: they couldn't know what the temperature had been before the heating went on."
"And did it occur to you that if the murderer did that deliberately they'd need to know how the police work out the time of death? Where did you hear all that science stuff anyway?"
"I saw it on Taggart "
Liam giggled at his plate. He could tell he was making Maureen angry but couldn't stop himself. He put his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, Mauri—"
"Yeah, fuck you."
"Yeah." He sniggered. "Okay, fuck me."
"I read it in the paper as well, Liam."
"So it must be true."
"What were you doing that night?"
"I was with Maggie at her mum and dad's."
"And were they in?"
"Yeah."
"Well, if I was right they could vouch for you."
He grinned at her as if she was mental. "Okay, Dr. X."
"Don't take the piss, Liam."
"I'm trying not to but you make it so hard." Maureen looked downcast.
"Did you tell the police that?"
She looked even more miserable. "I tried," she said.
He suppressed a smile. "And what did they say?"
She didn't answer him.
"Well," he said, jabbing at a chip, "I'm sure they'll find whoever did it soon enough. Buccleuch Street's always busy. Someone must have seen something."
Maureen picked at her chips. They were soggy, limp and warm. She should eat something. "I don't know why I keep coming
"Right enough. I just thought, because of the slashing . . ."
"Slashing people's faces, that's something trainee neds do to show their mates they're hard, they don't even know the person they're doing it to, they just run past the person and—" He flicked his wrist in a way she found worryingly dismissive.
"You've never done that, eh?" she asked timidly.
"Don't be ridiculous." He was staggered at the suggestion. "Do you think I'm capable of that?"
"Not really."
"Mauri, do you really think I'd do that to someone?"
"Auch, no, Liam, no. But I know you're protective of me since I was in hospital."
"Protective?"
"Yeah, protective."
"And I'm stupid enough to think carving up your boyfriend in your own living room is going to protect you from something much worse? Like what? Like falling out with him?"
"Aye, right enough."
"Anyway." He smiled at her. "I'd hardly do it when my alibi would get me arrested, would I? I'd be smarter than that, anyway."
"Auch, I'm sorry, Liam." She smiled back at him. "I'm a bit bewildered today."
She cut a bite out of the bridie and put it in her mouth. It hadn't been microwaved properly and undissolved fat still clung to the slimy inside of the cold pastry wall. She bit down onto a lump of gristle and made a face. "That's disgustin'." She spat it out into a napkin, wrapping it into a little bundle and putting it in the ashtray. Her appetite was gone.
"I'm so fucked," said Liam. "I can't tell them where I was."
"It might have happened at night. That time-of-death stuff isn't a set science, it's just a good guess."
"Did the police tell you that?"
"No," she said. "But the heating was on in the house this morning— it was belting out. I wondered if that could change a time of death."
"How?"
"Well, they work it out by comparing the temperature of the body to the surrounding temperature. What would it be if the person was alive — say, ninety-eight point six degrees?"
"I dunno."
"Anyway, what if the surrounding temperature wasn't constant? That would change the rate of heat loss. What if the heating was turned right up and set to go an hour or so before he was found? That would heat up the house but wouldn't be enough to heat up a body. The police would take his temperature thinking he'd been in a warm house the whole time he'd been dead. They'd think he'd died earlier than he actually did."
"Maureen, what are you rambling about?" said Liam seriously.
"They could have got the time of death wrong. It could have happened in the evening."
He looked confused. "Wouldn't the police think of that, though?"
She shrugged. "Yeah, but even if they did it would still be hard to work out the times: they couldn't know what the temperature had been before the heating went on."
"And did it occur to you that if the murderer did that deliberately they'd need to know how the police work out the time of death? Where did you hear all that science stuff anyway?"
"I saw it on Taggart "
Liam giggled at his plate. He could tell he was making Maureen angry but couldn't stop himself. He put his hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry, Mauri—"
"Yeah, fuck you."
"Yeah." He sniggered. "Okay, fuck me."
"I read it in the paper as well, Liam."
"So it must be true."
"What were you doing that night?"
"I was with Maggie at her mum and dad's."
"And were they in?"
"Yeah."
"Well, if I was right they could vouch for you."
He grinned at her as if she was mental. "Okay, Dr. X."
"Don't take the piss, Liam."
"I'm trying not to but you make it so hard." Maureen looked downcast.
"Did you tell the police that?"
She looked even more miserable. "I tried," she said.
He suppressed a smile. "And what did they say?"
She didn't answer him.
"Well," he said, jabbing at a chip, "I'm sure they'll find whoever did it soon enough. Buccleuch Street's always busy. Someone must have seen something."
Maureen picked at her chips. They were soggy, limp and warm. She should eat something. "I don't know why I keep coming
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