you mean? '
She lit up, leaned on the table and tapped a tattoo with a beer mat. ' I mean, they had their moments, their rows … but murder! Get real. '
I wasn ' t sure where she was going with this, but she clearly had some kind of theory. I sat back in my chair, crossed my leg over. As I did so, I noticed an umbrella fly past the window; the sight distracted me, took my train of thought with it. Rachel traced the arc of my gaze with her own eyes.
' What are you saying? You don ' t believe the official version of events? ' I said.
' Which is what? Kirsty had her first fit in years, brought on by a beating from Glenn … No. I don ' t go for that. '
' Well, why haven ' t you said? '
She huffed. ' Eh, hello … I think I just did. '
' I meant to the police. '
Rachel shook her head, made a moue of her mouth. ' Do I look mental? '
' You don ' t think they ' d believe you? '
Her voice pitched. ' And like I ' d be believed, Doug. ' She scraped a fingernail along the table top as her voice continued to climb. ' You know, I might not have been a reporter all that long but I ' ve seen enough of what goes on in this town to know that there ' s certain people you don ' t take on …' She stopped herself, started to scan the room to see who had been listening.
' Like who? '
' Uh-uh …' She clamped her mouth tight. She was practicing Rabbie ' s advice: learn taciturnity and let that be your motto. I couldn ' t fault her but neither did it help me.
' Rachel, if you have something I can use, you owe it to Kirsty and to Glenn to let me know. '
She took a long draft of her Guinness, wiped her mouth again and reached under the table for her bag. ' I ' m not getting involved. '
' Rachel …'
Her eyes flared. ' I can ' t do anything. I ' m a cub reporter on a local rag … not John Pilger. '
' I ' m not asking you to take on the establishment, Rachel. '
That huff again. ' Oh, aren ' t you? '
She was talking in riddles. She was also rattled, that much I could see. I watched her zip up her parka, wrap her scarf round her neck and wrestle the strap of her bag over her shoulder. With each movement she made I knew I was edging dangerously close to losing the chance to get her to reveal what she knew. ' You can trust me, you know. '
My words seemed to trigger her sarcasm nerve; she tilted her head to the side. ' Weren ' t you filth ? '
I felt my neck tighten. ' I was police. '
' Yeah, well … you all stick together don ' t you? '
I stifled a laugh, but I couldn ' t hold back the sly smile. ' You ' re kidding, aren ' t you? They kicked me out. '
' And why was that? '
My eyes lolled in the back of my head. The reasons for my departure were already droll to me. ' I guess they didn ' t like me very much. '
Rachel sat still, staring into my soul for a few seconds. Something was going on with her, not thinking exactly, or even allowing thoughts to form; she seemed to be intuiting. In an instant she opened her bag, thrust in her hand, and removed a blue folder. She held it in the air for a moment, her gaze fixed on mine. ' This isn ' t anything you couldn ' t find in the public domain — by spending a day Googling or getting inky fingers in the library. But that ' s not to say I don ' t think it ' s valuable. '
I stared at the file. ' What is it? '
She rose, slapped the file on the table as she turned for the door. ' It ' s interesting reading, that ' s what it is. '
I reached a hand out for the file. ' Hang on, I might have some questions. '
She put her hood up. ' I ' m quite sure you will, Doug. '
Chapter 14
I didn ' t know why, but it seemed like the time for Tom Waites ' Rain Dogs . I played the surreal Cemetery Polka as I pulled into my mother ' s driveway on the edge of Alloway. The sensory battering of recent days had started to take its toll. There was plenty I needed to process, think about, but somehow my priorities seemed to be drifting elsewhere. I removed my mobile phone from my pocket as the car ' s
She lit up, leaned on the table and tapped a tattoo with a beer mat. ' I mean, they had their moments, their rows … but murder! Get real. '
I wasn ' t sure where she was going with this, but she clearly had some kind of theory. I sat back in my chair, crossed my leg over. As I did so, I noticed an umbrella fly past the window; the sight distracted me, took my train of thought with it. Rachel traced the arc of my gaze with her own eyes.
' What are you saying? You don ' t believe the official version of events? ' I said.
' Which is what? Kirsty had her first fit in years, brought on by a beating from Glenn … No. I don ' t go for that. '
' Well, why haven ' t you said? '
She huffed. ' Eh, hello … I think I just did. '
' I meant to the police. '
Rachel shook her head, made a moue of her mouth. ' Do I look mental? '
' You don ' t think they ' d believe you? '
Her voice pitched. ' And like I ' d be believed, Doug. ' She scraped a fingernail along the table top as her voice continued to climb. ' You know, I might not have been a reporter all that long but I ' ve seen enough of what goes on in this town to know that there ' s certain people you don ' t take on …' She stopped herself, started to scan the room to see who had been listening.
' Like who? '
' Uh-uh …' She clamped her mouth tight. She was practicing Rabbie ' s advice: learn taciturnity and let that be your motto. I couldn ' t fault her but neither did it help me.
' Rachel, if you have something I can use, you owe it to Kirsty and to Glenn to let me know. '
She took a long draft of her Guinness, wiped her mouth again and reached under the table for her bag. ' I ' m not getting involved. '
' Rachel …'
Her eyes flared. ' I can ' t do anything. I ' m a cub reporter on a local rag … not John Pilger. '
' I ' m not asking you to take on the establishment, Rachel. '
That huff again. ' Oh, aren ' t you? '
She was talking in riddles. She was also rattled, that much I could see. I watched her zip up her parka, wrap her scarf round her neck and wrestle the strap of her bag over her shoulder. With each movement she made I knew I was edging dangerously close to losing the chance to get her to reveal what she knew. ' You can trust me, you know. '
My words seemed to trigger her sarcasm nerve; she tilted her head to the side. ' Weren ' t you filth ? '
I felt my neck tighten. ' I was police. '
' Yeah, well … you all stick together don ' t you? '
I stifled a laugh, but I couldn ' t hold back the sly smile. ' You ' re kidding, aren ' t you? They kicked me out. '
' And why was that? '
My eyes lolled in the back of my head. The reasons for my departure were already droll to me. ' I guess they didn ' t like me very much. '
Rachel sat still, staring into my soul for a few seconds. Something was going on with her, not thinking exactly, or even allowing thoughts to form; she seemed to be intuiting. In an instant she opened her bag, thrust in her hand, and removed a blue folder. She held it in the air for a moment, her gaze fixed on mine. ' This isn ' t anything you couldn ' t find in the public domain — by spending a day Googling or getting inky fingers in the library. But that ' s not to say I don ' t think it ' s valuable. '
I stared at the file. ' What is it? '
She rose, slapped the file on the table as she turned for the door. ' It ' s interesting reading, that ' s what it is. '
I reached a hand out for the file. ' Hang on, I might have some questions. '
She put her hood up. ' I ' m quite sure you will, Doug. '
Chapter 14
I didn ' t know why, but it seemed like the time for Tom Waites ' Rain Dogs . I played the surreal Cemetery Polka as I pulled into my mother ' s driveway on the edge of Alloway. The sensory battering of recent days had started to take its toll. There was plenty I needed to process, think about, but somehow my priorities seemed to be drifting elsewhere. I removed my mobile phone from my pocket as the car ' s
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