‘Sorry, boss?’
‘Well, you say you got whacked from behind. So ‘ow come you knew who it was?’
Delia noticed MacFarland become even more attentive to his latest injury. Christ, Harry might be a loud-mouthed, uneducated slob, but he wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t fail to see that the guy was lying his arse off. A dangerous game to play when you’re up against the likes of Harry Vincent, he thought. A very dangerous game indeed.
‘Er… I saw him in the car. Aye. When they drove off like,’ MacFarland blurted out eventually.
With slow deliberation, Harry picked up the gun from the desk and tapped the tip of the barrel against his front teeth. ‘Okay, so what about this dog? This hound of the fucking Baskervilles.’
‘Aye, big bastard it was.’
‘And it ‘ad yer by the arm, you say.’
‘Tae right, boss. Hurt like buggery.’ He moved his foot-massaging hand and gingerly laid the palm onto his forearm.
Harry nodded towards the arm. ‘Roll it up then, ‘Aggis.’
‘Uh?’
‘The sleeve. I wanna ‘ave a butchers at this nasty dog bite of yours. I mean, you can’t be too careful with dog bites. Tet’nus. Gangrene. Rabies even. You might need medical attention.’ Harry’s face twisted into a leering grin, and his eyes were those of a predator that knew it had its prey trapped and totally at its mercy. ‘You see how much I care about yer.’
‘Thing is, I dinnae think it actually broke the skin ‘cos I—’
Harry’s grin vanished, and he whipped the gun round to point it at MacFarland’s forehead. ‘Roll – up – your – fucking – sleeve.’
MacFarland stole an imploring glance at Delia, but there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable.
‘Whassa matter? You want Delia to do it for yer?’
MacFarland’s hand slid down his arm towards the button on his shirt cuff. ‘Ye know anyone called Julian Bracewell?’ he said quietly.
‘What?’ Harry’s expression instantly changed to that of prey rather than predator, and all trace of colour flooded from his cheeks.
‘I think that was the name anyways,’ said MacFarland, who seemed to be making very little progress unbuttoning his sleeve.
‘Julian Bracewell?’
‘Aye. He said tae give ye his regards.’
‘When?’
‘Just now. I’d sat down on a wee bench outside tae rest ma foot for a minute, and this soap dodgin’ auld wino comes up and…’
His voice tailed away as Harry got to his feet and dropped the gun onto the desk before slowly making his way over to the window. MacFarland gave up all pretence at fiddling with his shirt button and seemed to have a sudden flash of inspiration.
‘Hey, wait a wee second,’ he said. ‘Julian Bracewell. I thought the name was familiar. But I thought he was deid.’
‘Well he’s either a fucking ghost or I was sadly misinformed about ‘is very timely demise.’ Harry had his back to them and his voice sounded muffled. ‘Either way, it seems as if our Mr Bracewell‘s come back to haunt me, and if that’s the case, we could well find ourselves in some seriously deep shit in the very near future.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
She lay on her back on the rear seat of the Peugeot, her legs wide apart, writhing and squirming and occasionally letting out a soft moan of pleasure.
‘At least someone seems happy,’ said Sandra, glancing in the rear-view mirror.
Trevor screwed his head round to see that Milly was indeed exhibiting every physical manifestation of a dog who was beside herself with ecstasy. She’d treated them both to an impressive display of acrobatics when they’d first returned to the car, but by the time they’d reached the outskirts of the city, her unrestrained joy had given way to a rather less energetic demonstration of contented bliss. They were on the road again, which meant that the reunion was not a temporary one. More than that, they were on their way to some new destination which would no doubt be abundant with fresh sights and smells and, with a bit of luck, a mouthwatering array of ground-level snacks.
Soon after they’d made their escape, Sandra had quizzed Trevor about how he’d managed to get away from Harry, and he’d told her the whole story, adding that he’d been surprised the Delia guy hadn’t caught up with him before the revolving door incident.
He’d asked her about the cigarette packets, and it turned out he’d been right that she’d opened one of them while he was having a pee at the side of the road, but that didn’t explain where she’d got the replacement pack from.