Read Online Long Time Dead (Gus Dury 4) by Tony Black - Free Book Online
Authors: Tony Black
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you around like bad aftershave. Get you in half an hour, Gus. I’ll dress for a night in the cells, just in case!’
Knew she was only joking; well, hoped she was. My conscience was already starting to wonder about what I was getting this girl into.
Young lad with the eighties vibe hovered. Carried a whiff of Stray Cats about him now – had been at the hair with some product. I wondered about this generation, by Christ I did. Amy, though, was slightly higher on the clued-up scale; by comparison this muppet hadn’t discovered fire yet.
‘I got something you want, lad?’
Bristles; got that shoulder-straightening thing. ‘Do you want another coffee?’
Threw him, ‘That’d be just grand. Thanks so much.’
I drained my cup, making sure there was no scoosh left sticking to the base. This close to Morningside, they tend to get a bit picky about things like that. Still, I was tweeded up, like they’d fucking mess.
‘Would you like anything with it? … We have jumbo cookies on special.’
Guess my look said that would be a no. He trotted off.
I had calls to make: was on the case, c’mon. There was nevergoing to be a simple route to a solution, saw that coming a country mile off. There was more going on with Gillian Laird than I could suss right now, but from the off, I had her pegged. She might be calling the shots but there’d be a bit of groundwork done there too; knew where to start as well.
Got the contacts up. Felt a slight apprehension as I hovered over the name. We’d some history … had we ever. I knew Fitz the Crime was not the man to go to for favours; they had a strange way of coming back with bigger price tags on them than I could afford. He was filth, there was no way around that. But even filth needed to come into the real world, at least once in a while.
Dialled.
Ringing.
Hard-ass on reception, ‘Lothian and Borders Police …’
‘I’d like Fitzsimmons, please.’ If I knew his rank, I’d use it. But Fitz was flying through those stripes so fast there was no knowing where he’d be these days. Gave me some room to manoeuvre. The full-leather interior on that Lexus of his had been paid for with so much of my graft that I was entitled to a few privileges.
‘Fitzsimmons.’ Bit gruff. Tipping the hard-core edge in; nothing new there.
‘The man himself. How’s the cop trade?’
‘Jaysus, Dury … by the cringe!’
Always the grand welcomer from this man. You’d think I wasn’t one of his favourites. ‘Nice to hear from you too.’
Phone shuffling, few steps taken towards seclusion, away from prying ears. ‘Gus, this will never do … You know better than to call me here. By the holy … Is it my backside in a sling ye want?’
‘Look, Fitz, cool the beans, eh. It’s a social call.’
A loud laugh.
Huff.
Tut.
‘Jaysus, Dury … you’re a freckin’ gas … Will be on the beg you are, as sure as there’s a hole in yer arse!’
He had my number. But this wasn’t going too badly; I’d seenthe day when a call to Fitz was met with something closer to a curt ‘get to fuck’. Phone slamming, perhaps. Could it be he was getting comfortable? Settled, maybe? There couldn’t be that much competition for him at the top. He needed to watch that, though: the air up there’s pretty thin, I hear.
Said, ‘A man can climb to great heights but he cannot dwell there long.’
Bit of a stammer: ‘What’s that, a riddle? Always with the riddles ye are, Dury.’
I smiled into the phone. ‘Close. A quote.’
‘Y’wha’?’
‘Never mind. Look, I’m sure you’re not the type to forget old friends, Fitz, but in case you’re thinking of coming the Big I Am—’
He put the volume up a notch, blasted, ‘Hang on, Dury, we’re well and truly quits, boyo. Don’t start playing the old pals act with me, don’t even be considering that now.’
I let the line fizz. Few seconds of static stretched out.
‘Okay, Fitz … I hear you. Truth told, I’m messing with you.’
A
Knew she was only joking; well, hoped she was. My conscience was already starting to wonder about what I was getting this girl into.
Young lad with the eighties vibe hovered. Carried a whiff of Stray Cats about him now – had been at the hair with some product. I wondered about this generation, by Christ I did. Amy, though, was slightly higher on the clued-up scale; by comparison this muppet hadn’t discovered fire yet.
‘I got something you want, lad?’
Bristles; got that shoulder-straightening thing. ‘Do you want another coffee?’
Threw him, ‘That’d be just grand. Thanks so much.’
I drained my cup, making sure there was no scoosh left sticking to the base. This close to Morningside, they tend to get a bit picky about things like that. Still, I was tweeded up, like they’d fucking mess.
‘Would you like anything with it? … We have jumbo cookies on special.’
Guess my look said that would be a no. He trotted off.
I had calls to make: was on the case, c’mon. There was nevergoing to be a simple route to a solution, saw that coming a country mile off. There was more going on with Gillian Laird than I could suss right now, but from the off, I had her pegged. She might be calling the shots but there’d be a bit of groundwork done there too; knew where to start as well.
Got the contacts up. Felt a slight apprehension as I hovered over the name. We’d some history … had we ever. I knew Fitz the Crime was not the man to go to for favours; they had a strange way of coming back with bigger price tags on them than I could afford. He was filth, there was no way around that. But even filth needed to come into the real world, at least once in a while.
Dialled.
Ringing.
Hard-ass on reception, ‘Lothian and Borders Police …’
‘I’d like Fitzsimmons, please.’ If I knew his rank, I’d use it. But Fitz was flying through those stripes so fast there was no knowing where he’d be these days. Gave me some room to manoeuvre. The full-leather interior on that Lexus of his had been paid for with so much of my graft that I was entitled to a few privileges.
‘Fitzsimmons.’ Bit gruff. Tipping the hard-core edge in; nothing new there.
‘The man himself. How’s the cop trade?’
‘Jaysus, Dury … by the cringe!’
Always the grand welcomer from this man. You’d think I wasn’t one of his favourites. ‘Nice to hear from you too.’
Phone shuffling, few steps taken towards seclusion, away from prying ears. ‘Gus, this will never do … You know better than to call me here. By the holy … Is it my backside in a sling ye want?’
‘Look, Fitz, cool the beans, eh. It’s a social call.’
A loud laugh.
Huff.
Tut.
‘Jaysus, Dury … you’re a freckin’ gas … Will be on the beg you are, as sure as there’s a hole in yer arse!’
He had my number. But this wasn’t going too badly; I’d seenthe day when a call to Fitz was met with something closer to a curt ‘get to fuck’. Phone slamming, perhaps. Could it be he was getting comfortable? Settled, maybe? There couldn’t be that much competition for him at the top. He needed to watch that, though: the air up there’s pretty thin, I hear.
Said, ‘A man can climb to great heights but he cannot dwell there long.’
Bit of a stammer: ‘What’s that, a riddle? Always with the riddles ye are, Dury.’
I smiled into the phone. ‘Close. A quote.’
‘Y’wha’?’
‘Never mind. Look, I’m sure you’re not the type to forget old friends, Fitz, but in case you’re thinking of coming the Big I Am—’
He put the volume up a notch, blasted, ‘Hang on, Dury, we’re well and truly quits, boyo. Don’t start playing the old pals act with me, don’t even be considering that now.’
I let the line fizz. Few seconds of static stretched out.
‘Okay, Fitz … I hear you. Truth told, I’m messing with you.’
A
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