Read Online The Blood Tree by Paul Johnston - Free Book Online Page A

you came back to the city.” We passed a pair of stern-looking guardsmen. “Calm down,” I said, worried that she was about to come out with an even coarser description of the medical guardian. “I don’t know. She probably feels she has to make her contribution to the city’s birth-rate.” I shrugged. “She’s in her late thirties. Maybe her body’s putting pressure on her to reproduce.”
    Katharine flashed an angry look at me. “So women like me who choose not to reproduce – delicate turn of phrase, Quint – are failing in our duty to the city and the species, are we?”
    We had to separate as a scruffily dressed elderly citizen on a ramshackle bicycle clattered down the road which used to be overlooked by Greyfriars Bobby. The statue of the wee Victorian dog was blown to pieces by a grenade during the drugs wars – now the plinth bears one of the city’s many memorials to auxiliaries and citizens who didn’t make it through the Council’s early years.
    By the time we joined up again Katharine’s expression had changed.
    â€œSorry,” she said quietly. “It’s not been a very good morning so far.”
    â€œNo,” I agreed. I made a decision. “Do you want to give me a hand with the case I’m working on? Just for today.”
    Katharine looked at me suspiciously then nodded. “Why not? It won’t be the first time.”
    That was true. She’d been deeply involved in some of my biggest investigations. She was also about as far as you could get from being Lewis Hamilton’s cup of auxiliary-issue tea. I told her about the break-in as we walked towards the checkpoint below the Royal Mile. She asked so many penetrating questions that, by the time we got to the castle, I already had second thoughts about my invitation.
    The cloud around the castle was even thicker now, shutting out the sights and sounds from the tourist shops and bars on Princes Street.
    The guardswoman on duty in the gatehouse told us that the public order guardian was in the command centre. She gave Katharine a dubious stare but she couldn’t argue with my Council authorisation – it entitles me to full co-operation from all citizens, auxiliaries and guardians. The Council’s occasionally tried to have the wording changed, but I’ve managed to keep it intact. There’s no point in being the city’s chief special investigator if guardians can mess you around.
    We walked up to the square formed by what used to be the palace and museums. Apart from the Scottish National War Memorial, left unchanged in a rare display of respect for the past by the Council, the buildings are all used by the City Guard now. The command centre is in what was the Great Hall, a tacky late-nineteenth-century restoration of the banqueting hall. The hammerbeam roof has been left but the rest of the decor is grade one barracks drab, the brightly coloured tapestries that used to adorn the walls removed to provide space for city maps, barracks reports and guard rosters. The hall’s vast open space gives guard personnel the opportunity to impersonate ants in perpetual motion. They do that very well.
    Hamilton met us at the entrance. “What’s she doing here, Dalrymple?” he demanded, glaring at Katharine.
    That only made me more determined. “She’s helping me out, Lewis. If you don’t like it, find another investigator.”
    â€œOh, for God’s sake, man.” He turned away and went to the large central table which was his base camp. “Very well,” he said unwillingly. “I suppose we need all the help we can get.” He pointed up at the daily situation report board. “Look at that. Two sightings of unauthorised vessels off the coast, three gaping holes cut in the wire on the city line, four youth gangs rampaging in the suburbs—”
    â€œAnd a partridge in a pear tree,” I put in.