Denise Mina - The Dead Hour

They were in danger of being pleasant to one another. The woman sucked her cigarette again and narrowed her eyes at Paddy, angry that she had unilaterally overstepped the bounds of brisk rudeness.

Paddy examined her notebook to stop herself smiling. “Do you know of any particular cases Mark and Vhari worked on together?”

“They didn’t work on the same cases. They did their own cases.”

“Is there anyone you can think of who came in looking for representation who’d link them?”

She shrugged. “Anyone who was about the office then, I suppose. Everyone knew them as a couple.”

“Who was about the office then?”

“I dunno.” She wasn’t even considering the question. “People.”

“No special cases coming through the center then? Gangster cases?”

“No. We don’t do criminal cases in here. We just help with social security claims and expenses claims for prison visitation. Small stuff, civil cases.”

“Look.” Paddy leaned forward and put her hands on the desk. “What’s your name?”

The woman pursed her lips. “Evelyn McGarrochy.”

“Evelyn, I take it you don’t read the papers?”

“Load of lies.”

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this: the police think Mark killed Vhari.”

Evelyn McGarrochy melted: her shoulders dropped, her face slackened, and her mouth fell open.

Suddenly Paddy understood the rounded backs of the policemen as they took the path up to Mark Thillingly’s house in the middle of Wednesday night. It was a terrible thing to see.

Finally Evelyn spoke. “Why?”

“Because he killed himself the next night.”

Evelyn looked down to her hand and saw that her cigarette had burned down to an oily stub. She dropped it into the ashtray and slowly pulled another from the packet, lethargically dropping it into her mouth like a diabetic in danger reaching for a boiled sweet. Paddy lit a match for her and held it to the end. Evelyn’s forehead twitched as she smoked, and Paddy could see her disbelieving the news.

“Evelyn, do you work here every day?”

She blinked and brought herself back to the room. “Um, yeah. Most days. ’Less I’m sick.”

“Were you working here last Tuesday?”

“Aye.”

“And Mark was working here as well?”

She nodded and pointed to the table behind her. “There.”

Paddy took out her notebook. “What time did you finish?”

“About six.” She shrugged. “It was a busy day.”

“So did he come in early the next day?”

Evelyn shook a finger at her, scattering ash over the carbon papers. “He didn’t come in the next day.”

“Where was he? Did he call?”

“Said he was off visiting Bernie and I wasn’t to tell Diana. If she called just say he was out.”

“Who’s Bernie?”

“Vhari’s brother.”

“Where would Mark go to find Bernie?”

“At his garage in Yorkhill.”

Paddy licked her lips as she jotted it down in shorthand. The day after Vhari’s murder Thillingly skipped work to see Burnett’s brother. He’d hardly do that if he was responsible for her murder.

“Do you know what they did to Vhari?” Evelyn’s voice had shrunk. “How did they murder her?”

Paddy couldn’t tell her about the teeth or the money men or the two steps to safety that Vhari had decided not to take. “They hit her, I think. The police said it was quick. They were trying to scare her, I think, and it went too far.”

Evelyn shook her head and looked hard at Paddy. “Mark didn’t murder Vhari. They stayed pals afterward. He was a soft guy, Mark, you know? Not a man to lift his hands.”

“I went to see Diana. She said Mark was mugged outside here on Tuesday.”

Evelyn coughed in surprise and exhaled a stream of acrid smoke at the table. “What?”

“Outside of here. In the car park. He went home all wet from being knocked over in the rain and his nose was burst.”

Evelyn tried to remember Tuesday. “I waved to him at his car. He was just getting into it. It wasn’t even very dark when we left.”

“At six?”

“Yeah. It was getting dark.”

“Did you see Mark drive away?”

She tried to remember. “No, now I come to think of it, I didn’t. I wait at the bus stop and he passes going the other way. He usually waves to me but I didn’t see him that night. It was raining awful heavy and my feet were getting wet. I never saw him come past.”

“Was anyone in during the day? Was anyone hanging around the office?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Can ye think of anything from Tuesday? Were there any cars parked outside or in the car park?”

Evelyn shook her head but stopped. “There was a car. It’s unusual. There aren’t a lot of cars around here. It was black. Shiny. It was new.”

“Any idea of the license plate?”

“No.”

“Any idea what kind of car it was?”

Her eyes searched the table for a moment. “No,” she said finally. “I don’t drive. Don’t know anyone who drives. I’m not interested in cars.”

Paddy stood at the top of the stairs. A midnight wind lifted thin wafts of dust from the empty road and sand brushed her cheek, threatening her eyes and making her hair feel gritty. She fitted her notepad into her pocket and tripped down to the street.

Sean must have been watching the door for her and already had the engine started. He pulled the car to the curb at the bottom of the steps to meet her and she bent down to his window.

“Was there a call?”

“Eh?”

“Did an important call come through?”

He looked at the radio, nonplussed, and then back at her. “No. I don’t know. Was there?”

He was pulling up to the curb because he was monster keen, not for any other reason. “Never mind.” She opened the passenger door and climbed into the backseat. “Ye were listening to the radio, though, eh?”

“I listened for police cars being called to anywhere,” he said, repeating her instructions word for word. “Nothing.”

“’Kay. Well done. Now we’ll go to Partick Marine station.”

He looked at her ablank. Paddy tried to think where it was. She never had to bother before. “Go to Partick Cross and I’ll direct you from there.”

“Okay.” He smiled at her. “You’re the boss.”

Sean was being subservient and helpful. It was quite eerie. He was delighted to get the job, however temporary it might be, and she had a definite feeling that when the paper got a copy of his driving license and found out that he’d only passed two days ago they’d get a replacement, someone older who wasn’t going to cost them his wage again in insurance. Still, for the very near future Sean had a job with great money, he was making nearly as much as Paddy, and she knew the wages went up the longer he stayed.

It was a newer car than the one Billy used to drive her in, a silver car with an empty tin-can feel. The molded metal inside was covered in plastic but the frame was visible through it; it shuddered along the road and all the instruments on the dash looked far away from each other and essential. She found herself feeling for the broken handle of the door and the small rip in the padded door of Billy’s car, missing the rhythm of his flawless, smooth driving.

Sean stopped suddenly at lights, turned stiffly around corners, and swore under his breath when he came across anything untoward on the road like a pedestrian or a bus. She was glad she was the first passenger he’d had; his style didn’t exactly disguise his lack of experience.

He edged through the town, stalling and swerving his way to Partick Cross, where she directed him off the main drag to the dark station and asked him to pull up outside.