Denise Mina - Resolution

"Did you order pizza?" said Kilty to no one in particular.

The banging started again and didn't sound friendly.

"I don't think that's a pizza," whispered Leslie.

They got up and tiptoed out to the hall, taking turns to look out through the spy hole.

Maureen looked last. Two familiar policemen from Stewart Street station were standing in the sharp white halogen light of the close. Inness was a snide, unsophisticated toady with a gay biker mustache. His young companion, Something McMummb, was a skinny, shy guy who spoke so quietly that although Maureen had met him many times, she'd never managed to catch his name. Inness sneered at Something so smugly that he looked nervous. Trying to keep Leslie and Kilty out of it, Maureen opened the door just a little, as if she had a crowd of nosy puppies behind it.

"Hello, Miss O'Donnell," said Inness.

Back in the living room an ice cube cracked loudly in a glass of whiskey.

"Tell me what this is about," she said, "or I'm closing the door."

The policemen looked at each other and hid smiles. "We're here to get an assurance from you that you'll be in court on Wednesday morning."

"I thought it was Monday."

"It's changed to Wednesday now," said Inness.

"I'll be there," she said, and went to shut the door, but Inness had stuck his foot in the way and pressed it open again.

"You sure?"

Maureen rolled her eyes. "I'll be there, okay?"

"Have you changed your mind?" asked Inness. "The guy who served the citation said you weren't going to cooperate."

"Yeah, I decided to stop being frightened when I found out I'd be going to jail if I didn't."

Inness smirked at Something again and Leslie yanked the door open. "Are you two having an affair?" she said. "Why d'ye keep looking at each other?"

"Yeah," said Kilty, still angry from the argument. "Have ye got no fucking manners at all?"

Inness pointed at her. "Don't you swear at me or I'll have you for breach."

"Yeah?" said Kilty. "Well, fuck you."

Suddenly, Something McMummb reached into the hall to grab her by the arm but she skipped backwards and Leslie stood in front of her. "Stop it," said Leslie.

McMummb didn't like her tone. "We could take any one of you in," he muttered angrily.

"For what?" demanded Kilty.

"Breach of the peace."

"Breach of the peace?" shouted Kilty. "We're standing in our own hallway taking shit from you bastards -"

Leslie put an arm over Kilty and pushed her back into the hall. "Thank you for coming this evening," she said calmly. "Miss O'Donnell will be at court on Wednesday morning."

But the policemen were not to be placated. They had come to take someone in and spend the rest of their shift sitting in an office drinking tea and filling in forms.

"You," said Inness, reaching into the hall to grab Kilty.

A sudden loud crack rent the air and Jim Maliano was standing in the close, his chest puffed out like an improbable superhero. He was wearing a blue shirt tucked tightly into his pink slacks. "Enough," he declared, tapping a small notebook with a specially sharpened pencil and pointing at the policemen individually. "The both of you have been up here before, causing trouble at this house. I have already been on the phone to your station. That's four times altogether I've done that and they assured me that the matter will be dealt with forthwith "

The policemen were smirking again but not as confidently now. They backed away from Maureen's door and turned on Jim Maliano. "And what is your name, sir?"

"My name," said Jim, pink and tremulous, "is James Maliano. My cousin is Detective Inspector Nicolas Farquharson of the Midlothian Police and he will be advising me how best to pursue my complaint against the lot of you at Stewart Street."

No longer confident that Jim could be bullied, they looked at each other. Something shrugged and hesitated before dropping an uncertain foot to the first step. Inness dipped his head, reluctant to give in, but his companion nodded him away.

"You," said Inness, pointing at Maureen, "be there."

He backed down the first two steps and Kilty stuck her head out of the door. "Bye-ya," she said, in a girlish falsetto.

The policemen glared at them.

"See ye later," sang Kilty. "Take care, now."

Jim Maliano was glaring at Maureen, and she wondered how she could possibly have suspected the officious little twit of being in league with Angus. "I have warned you," said Jim, "about the noise level in this close."

"Sorry, Jim," she said, backing into her hall. "Sorry about all of it."

Back in the living room they settled uneasily into their respective places on the settee but it didn't seem as cozy now, as if the visit had burst the boundaries of their evening, letting the big scary world seep into the house.

"Would they have jailed ye?" asked Leslie quietly.

"Yeah," said Maureen, holding her cold fingertips to her burning eyes.

"For not turning up?" asked Kilty.

"For thinking about not turning up," said Maureen, taking a long drink.

Kilty and Leslie watched her. "What d'ye think'll happen in the trial?" asked Leslie.

"Joe McEwan thinks he'll get off," said Maureen, drinking again.

"And then what?" said Kilty quietly.

"He'll come for me."

Leslie sat staring out of the window and thinking. As if she was going to hit Maureen's legs, she reached out quickly, snatched up the bottle of cheap, own-brand whiskey and filled Maureen's glass. "Bad timing," she muttered.

Kilty smiled, glad it was over. "Yeah," she said. "Bad timing."

Maureen drank again, enjoying it while she could. She decided not to tell them that Hugh had promised that her house would be full of policemen when Angus came. She'd tell them after the drink was done. As she drank she realized that delaying the trial meant she had an extra two days to do something about Michael, two more days to get herself together enough to face him. Being allowed to drink and a two-day stay of execution made the night feel quite luxurious.

"Why will he get out?" said Leslie.

"He's saying that I gave him drugs, and the drugs made him do the murders."

"Did ye give him drugs?" asked Kilty.

Maureen and Leslie looked at each other.

"She did," said Leslie.

"I gave him a load of bad acid but it was after the murders."

"We went to Millport on Cumbrae and he followed us on the ferry," said Leslie. "Because we had Siobhain with us and he wanted to kill her to shut her up. Mauri fed him the acid and tied him to a bed."

"Where were you?" Kilty asked her.

Leslie looked at her hands. "I shat it," she said. "I encouraged her to do it and then I shat it and left her to do it alone."

"You stayed with Siobhain," said Maureen. "Someone had to stay with her."

"I shat it."

"Where did you get the acid?" asked Kilty.

"I got it from a wee guy who knows Liam," said Maureen, "but they're going to say I got it from Liam and tell everyone he's a drug dealer. The uni might even chuck him out."

"You don't know that," Kilty reassured her.

"Naw, I don't, but they've raided him and they've got that evidence to bring so it makes it easier to get the audience to believe I did it-"

"The jury, Mauri," corrected Leslie.

"Yeah, the jury. Them."

They settled back, watching adverts, and Maureen thought of poor dead Ella lying on her cold metal bed, leaving nothing in the world but Si and Tonsa.

The Friday night porno started on television. Two women rubbed about on each other, one looking nauseous, the other in an advanced state of sexual excitement for no discernible reason. Maureen stood up and turned it off. "Look," she said, "I know you don't believe me about McGee but will you humor me over it for a wee bit?"