Stuart MacBride - A Dark So Deadly

‘Ainsley Dugdale can pucker up and kiss my soapy backside.’

‘Just... watch yourself, OK? Elaine here,’ Powel pointed at her, ‘swears blind that you’re not as big a disaster as you look, so I’m doing you a favour. Dugdale is dangerous . It’s not just the drugs and the protection rackets and the punishment beatings, he’s implicated in at least two murders.’

‘Fine. Consider me warned.’ Callum tightened his grip on the towel. ‘Now, feel free to sod off.’

‘Callum...’ Powel dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. ‘I couldn’t give a toss if Dugdale kills you, hacks you to bits and chucks them in the Kings River, but you’ve got a pregnant girlfriend to look after. You’re going to be a father in two weeks. Try to think of someone else for a change.’

Think of someone else?

It wouldn’t take much. Just two steps and slam a fist right in the middle of the smug git’s face. They weren’t on duty: it probably wouldn’t count as assaulting a superior officer.

Elaine put a warm hand on his arm. ‘Callum, please . He’s trying to help.’

But it would still count as assault.

Deep breath.

He relaxed his hand. Uncurled the fingers. ‘Right.’ Cleared his throat. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’m not your enemy, Callum. And you’re not the only one he’s threatened.’ Powel buttoned his jacket shut. ‘Well, I’d better get going.’

Damn right you’d better.

‘Thanks for the tea, Elaine.’

She squeezed Callum’s arm and he stepped back, let Powel past. Then she smiled at the smug-faced lump of yuck. ‘Thank you, Reece. I appreciate you letting us know. Callum will be careful, won’t you, Callum?’

What choice did he have? ‘Of course I will.’

He stayed where he was as Elaine let Powel out of the flat. Sagged when he heard the front door lock thunk shut.

A home visit from DCI Powel and death threat from Ainsley Dugdale. Lovely.

She reappeared a minute later. ‘Are you proud of yourself?’

‘Since when were you and Poncy Powel on first-name terms?’

‘Since we worked that murder/suicide last January. And he’s trying to look out for us, OK? You didn’t have to be so aggressive — beating your peely-wally chest like a wee shaved monkey. I’m amazed you didn’t just drop your towel and measure dicks with him.’

‘ He’s a dick.’

‘You know what, Callum MacGregor? Right now, so are you.’

And the worst bit was, she was right.

‘Yeah.’

She closed the blinds, shutting out the dark night. ‘But you’re my dick. Now go get dried and I’ll heat up some tuna casserole.’

The flats on the other side of the railway line were mostly dark now. Lights off, time for bed. Wasn’t much brighter in the lounge, where only the red glow of the answering machine fought against the night.

A faint rattling snore sounded in the bedroom, muffled by the wall. God knew how they were going to manage with a new baby in a one-bedroom flat. Wasn’t as if they were rolling in cash here, even with Elaine’s maternity pay.

But they’d make it work. Wouldn’t they?

Course they would.

Callum toasted the faint reflection in the window and took another sip of wine. Dark in here, dark out there.

Powel was such a dick. Dugdale’s going to end you. Yeah, right.

Unless it was Dugdale in the woods — the noises in the gloom — following him home...

Goose pimples rippled their way up his arms and across the back of his neck.

Yes, but it was cold in the living room with the heating turned off.

He’d beaten Dugdale once, he could do it again. In a fair fight, anyway. Which it wouldn’t be. Dugdale wasn’t a Queensberry rules kind of guy, he was a jump-out-of-the-bushes-with-a-baseball-bat/knife/illegal-firearm/attack-dog/three-friends-with-crowbars kind of guy. The kind you never heard coming until it was too late.

And what if he came after Elaine and Peanut?

What if all those silent phone calls weren’t some firm of PPI-claim tossers? What if it was Dugdale?

Something hard and sharp rolled over in Callum’s chest.

First chance he got, it was off to the B&Q in Cowskillin for some heavy-duty locks. Fit them to the flat’s front door. Maybe rig up a panic button or something? They probably wouldn’t let him put a grade-one flag on his own flat, but Poncy Powel could do it.

Worth a try anyway, seeing as he was suddenly all concerned for their wellbeing.

The Callum in the window shifted from foot to foot. Licked his lips. Blood fizzing at the base of his throat.

Dugdale wasn’t taking his family away from him, and that was that.

He couldn’t.

Callum drained his glass, picked a book from the bookshelf, and went back to bed.

Nothing could.

‘... extensive roadworks for the next three weeks, so you’re going to want to find an alternative route. Jane?’

‘Thanks, Bob. It’s competition time and we’re giving away three pairs of tickets to Tartantula, this very weekend, folks. Stay tuned for how to win those. But first, how about some words from our sponsors?’

‘Here.’ Elaine held out the Sainted Tupperware Box of Lunch. Her pink furry dressing gown hung open, revealing the huge swell of her bulge. It poked out of the gap where her jammies didn’t meet any more, outie bellybutton on full display. ‘Tuna casserole buttie, with cheese and hot sauce.’

Callum tucked his shirt into his trousers. ‘You do know I’m not the one who’s pregnant, don’t you?’

‘Funny. You’re a funny guy.’

‘... that’s right, this week only, you can get two ScotiaBrand tasty chickens for just eight pounds. They’re fan-chicken-tastic!’

‘How’s the ear?’

A fresh wad of cotton covered the throbbing remains, glued to his head by half a dozen sticking plasters. Looked terrible, but at least it stayed on. ‘Have you seen my red tie?’

‘Cupboard.’

He had a rummage through the box. Frowned.

‘... deal of the century at Mad Mark’s Motors! You want a new car? You got it! Nought percent finance? You got it! Easy payment terms? I must be mad, cos you got that too!’

There was a yellow silk tie in there. A proper one, not a clip-on. He picked it up between two fingers, as if it was likely to hiss and bite him as it uncoiled. ‘What’s this?’

‘... confused about the new tax rates for business? Don’t worry, Davis, Wellman, and Manson — chartered accountants — are here to help...’

‘It’s a tie.’

‘Yes, I can see it’s a tie, what I want to know is: what’s it doing in my box?’