Denise Mina - Garnethill

"Well, he was being careful with it, he was holding it at the bottom, like this." Jim held his hand across his body and made a fist, as if he were holding a pole upright.

"How long was it? Could you see through the jacket?"

"I could see an outline. It looked about ten, twelve, inches long. It was like he was holding a stick or something."

"Jim," said Maureen, avoiding direct eye contact in case her dislike became too evident, "you've been such a help, really…"

"I did think there was something wrong about it all," said Jim. He looked about to launch into another monologue.

"We have to go," said Maureen. "Thanks again."

When they left the house Jim asked her to remember to bring his Celtic top back.

"Oh, Jim, of course," she said, "and the jogging trousers."

"You take care of yourself," he said, avuncular and pitying. "I'll see you when you come home."

He gave her a peck on the cheek. His lips were damp.

The white Volkswagen got stuck in the filter lane for the M8 motorway and the policemen had to split up. One ran after Maureen and Liam on foot while the other waited out the jam.

Maureen and Liam walked back toward the West End in silence, oblivious to the minor drama unfolding behind them. It was drizzling again; Maureen's hair was stuck to her head and she didn't have her scarf with her. Swirling damp rain was getting in at the neck, softening the scratch scabs, ripening them for the rough collar of her overcoat. Liam looked normal now, as if his head was bent against the rain. Maureen started crying noiselessly, knowing that the soft rain would cover for her.

When Liam finally spoke his voice was a hoarse whisper, but he was so close that she could hear him perfectly over the noise of the fast cars slashing past. "What does this mean?" he said.

She took a deep shaky breath to stop herself crying. "Well," she said, checking that her voice sounded okay, "it doesn't mean we're cozy safe and among friends, does it?"

Liam hooked his arm through hers. "Are you crying, Mauri?"

"A bit," she said.

"What's making you cry?" His voice was gentle and she was afraid she might start bawling in the street.

"That was the worst-told story I've ever had to sit through," she said.

Liam squeezed her arm with his elbow. Maureen squeezed back. "You don't seem surprised about Benny," said Liam.

"Naw, I'm not."

"Why?"

"Auch," she sighed. "It's a bit of a long story. Benny lent me a CD and it was in my flat when I went back up to get some stuff. I found it in his house the other day so I guessed he'd been at mine."

"That was stupid."

"Well, I thought I'd given it back. Before Jim said that he was sneaking about I thought maybe he was in cahoots with the police and they'd given it to him."

"And that thing in his jacket, do you know what it was?"

"I think it was the knife. The police were in the house for over a week and they didn't find it and then suddenly it turns up."

"Did you see the actual knife?"

"Yeah, it was fucking huge, and when I asked why it took them so long to find it they acted funny."

"How did Benny get a key to your house?"

"Well, he didn't get it off me," she said, into her chest.

Liam's voice was whiny and defensive. "I didn't give it to him," he said.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Liam, I wasn't hinting at that. I meant that he has the missing key – he has Douglas's key."

They stopped at the traffic lights, waiting to cross the busy road. Maureen let go of Liam's arm and pressed the yellow pedestrian button three times in quick succession. Liam slipped his arm back through hers. She had never known him be so tactile. "You're getting good at this, Mauri," he said. "McEwan asked me about the evening Douglas died. Ye might be right about the time as well."

Liam had more or less admitted he was wrong three times in the past week. Strange times. She poked the pedestrian button impatiently. "I don't think these things do anything," she said. "I think they put them there to keep you occupied so that you don't just chuck yourself across."

"Does this mean Benny killed Douglas?" asked Liam.

"Dunno," she said. "Douglas and Benny would need to be connected somehow."

"Yeah. There would have to be a reason for him to do it. Benny isn't mental unless he drinks."

She told him about the psychiatric referral from Inverness. "Douglas could have been the psychiatrist who saw him. It sounds as if Benny was involved with some dodgy geezers up in Inverness and he might not have wanted anyone to know about it."

"Why?"

"It was a fraud ring. It could ruin his legal career."

"So that would give him a motive?"

"Yeah, but I can't believe Benny would do that."

"Didn't think he'd sneak about and creep into your house either, though, did you? And how could he get a key-" Liam flinched suddenly and jerked his arm away from her. "God, shit, yes, Mauri, oh, fuck!"

"What? What?" she said, and tugged at his elbow, making him jerk his neck to the side. He yowled and slapped his hand to it, groaning at the sharp pain.

"I told Benny about the cupboard," he whispered, bending over with the pain, both his hands wrapped around the sore side of his neck.

Maureen was standing stunned beside him, her hands limp at her sides, the cold rain running down her face, dripping off her nose and chin. She spoke quietly. "You told him that?"

"Aye," said Liam, still cringing from the pain.

"You said you didn't tell anyone," she said.

He straightened up slightly and, looking at her, said, "I forgot."

"Did you tell him which cupboard?"

"I pointed it out one day when we were in the house. God, Mauri, I'm sorry."

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, slipping her arm back through his. "There's no reason for you to be sorry, Liam. No reason at all."

They walked on in silence, Liam keeping his free hand on his neck. Maureen was holding his arm too firmly, pressing it tightly against her side, pinching his skin in the cup of her elbow. He could feel her tiny walnut biceps digging into his arm and her intensity frightened him. "Why would he plant the knife?" he asked.

"Well, if it's found in the house it looks like I did it because I didn't go out, yeah?"

Liam nodded. "Right, but why leave it so long?"

"That I don't know. Maybe he wasn't working alone and it wasn't his idea to do it. Maybe someone else told him to do it and he couldn't refuse. He told me on the first day that it would look like me if they found it in the house. He wouldn't have told me if he was thinking about doing it. I think he must have mentioned it to someone else and they told him to go up there and do it."

"He's a cunt," said Liam. "Even if he didn't kill Douglas, even if he didn't put the knife there, even if he took my key or your key and just got in to get his CD, he's still a cunt."

"Aye," she said. "But he's the closest thing I've got to a lead at the moment so I don't want you to say anything to him."

"I want to batter him," said Liam petulantly.

Maureen disentangled her arm. "Don't you dare breathe a word about this. Not a single word to anyone. You'll fuck everything up. Just act normal with him and if you can't do that stay away from him."

They walked on.

"We've known Benny forever, Mauri."

"Yeah," said Maureen. "And it wasn't long enough."

WHEN THEY GOT BACK to his house Liam fitted the answer phone and got clean towels from the upstairs bathroom while Maureen made a pot of tea. She dried her hair roughly and followed Liam as he carried the tray upstairs to the nice room on the second floor.

She lay down on the Corbusier chair. Liam sat on the desktop, gasping as he tried to dry his hair without jerking his head. "God, that's sore," he said. He poured out the tea and turned on his computer. "Do you fancy a game of Doom ?" They looked at each other and sniggered miserably. "Not really, Liam, no."