Burnout

by Claire MacLeary

  ‘That’s the long and short of it. There’s only two folk know the whole truth, Gordon and Sheena.’

  Maggie pulled a face. ‘Who knows what goes on in a marriage? But to get back to what I was saying, I let myself get blown off track, first with Sheena, then with Ros. I wasted so much time. Precious time that could have been spent on the business. Or on my kids.’ Rueful look. ‘I’ve neglected them. And I’ve taken advantage of you.’

  Wilma grinned. ‘As if.’

  ‘It’s true. You’ve been carrying the can, Wilma. Right from day one – I see that now. When we started out, it was you doing all the computer research, you bolstering me up. Then, since the turn of the year, you’ve been working all hours.’ She broke off. ‘If you hadn’t been put upon, Ian and you would never have fallen out.’

  ‘Now you’re really havering,’ Wilma scoffed.

  ‘Far from it. It’s made me realise you’re the real star in this partnership. You’re more practical than me. Faster on your feet. Quicker to identify problems. And you go straight for the solution. Seems like it’s you should be running the show, not me.’

  Wilma straightened. She stood, arms akimbo, feet apart. ‘And what would happen, do you think, if I rolled up to a meeting with a big fancy firm of solicitors? They’d take one look and show me the door.’

  Maggie eyed the big woman. With her mane of blonde hair crowning a more-than-ample bosom and wide hips, she struck a commanding pose.

  ‘They’d love you,’ she chuckled at Wilma’s faux-fierce expression.

  ‘What are we like?’ Wilma chortled. ‘Scrapping with one another like a pair of flyweights.’

  The first bottle of wine lay empty on the floor. The second was well down.

  ‘Speaking of which,’ Maggie slurred, ‘how’s that coach of yours, Joe?’

  ‘Haven’t the foggiest,’ Wilma giggled. ‘There hasn’t been time to get to the boxing gym.’ She grinned. ‘At least, that’s my excuse.’

  Maggie stuck her nose in her glass. Another thing for her to feel guilty about.

  They sat for a few minutes in silence, then Wilma piped up. ‘Do you mind thon time we were talking about our USP?’

  ‘Vaguely,’ Maggie replied.

  ‘And I said we were like thon insurance company, Sheila’s Wheels, only not?’

  Maggie laughed. ‘I remember that bit.’

  ‘Well,’ Wilma announced, ‘I’ve been thinking and thinking…’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I’ve decided we’re more like them two on the telly.’

  Maggie fought to focus. ‘What two?’

  ‘Them detectives.’

  ‘Cagney and Lacey?’ Maggie guessed.

  ‘Nah!’ Wilma scoffed. ‘They’re ancient.’

  ‘Scott and Bailey? They’re more recent.’

  ‘Too boring.’

  Maggie pondered for a bit, then, ‘How about Thelma and Louise?’

  ‘Christ, no,’ Wilma retorted. ‘We haven’t driven off a cliff.’ She topped up their glasses. ‘Not yet, anyhow.’

  ‘Some days it feels like it,’ Maggie said, with feeling.

  ‘I know,’ Wilma agreed. ‘Some nights I’m that tired I could sleep on a clothesline.’ She scratched her head. ‘I mind, now. It was Happy Valley.’

  ‘What was?’ Maggie puzzled.

  ‘Them two detectives.’

  ‘They weren’t both detectives,’ Maggie countered. ‘One was a police sergeant, I’ll give you that. But the other one – the sister – she was a civilian, an alcoholic at that.’

  ‘I was close,’ Wilma quipped. ‘We’re near enough alcoholics ourselves.’

  ‘True.’ Maggie frowned, eyeing the near empty second bottle. Her alcohol intake had climbed steadily since she and Wilma went into business. Worse, it showed no sign of letting up. ‘But we’re not sisters.’

  ‘Granted.’ Wilma planted a wet kiss on her cheek. ‘But we might as well be.’

  Acknowledgments

  To my publisher, Sara Hunt, for her expertise and thoughtfulness. My heartfelt thanks.

  For patient and skilful editing, Russel D. McLean and Angie Harms.

  For specialist input, Professor Dame Sue Black and Dr Craig McKenzie of Dundee University’s Centre for Anatomy and Human Identification, Professor James Grieve, Emeritus Professor of Forensic Pathology at the University of Aberdeen, Ronald Manning of Aberdeen Public Mortuary, Sergeant Teresa Clark of Police Scotland and former Detective Sergeant Bill Ogilvie.

  My appreciation goes to the reviewers, bloggers, booksellers and librarians who have brought Maggie and Wilma to a wider audience, and to the many readers who have taken this unlikely crime duo to their hearts.

  To my family and friends; what can I say? There would be no Harcus & Laird without your unwavering support.

  And to the good folk of Aberdeen, with whose city and Doric tongue I have taken liberties – my apologies. The events in this novel are entirely fictional and inaccuracies wholly mine.

  About the author

  Following a career in business, Claire MacLeary gained an MLitt with Distinction from the University of Dundee. Her short stories have been published in various magazines and anthologies. She lived for some years in Aberdeen, and subsequently in Fife, before returning to her native Glasgow. Her first novel, Cross Purpose, was longlisted for the McIlvanney Award for Scottish Crime Book of the Year 2017.

  Harcus & Laird’s next case…

  When his wife goes missing and the police can find no evidence of criminality, a distraught husband turns to Harcus & Laird.

  But what would it take for a young mother to abandon her children? That’s the question Maggie and Wilma ask themselves.

  With the clock ticking and the trail going cold, the private investigators are drawn into a world of women’s refuges and rough sleepers, putting their own safety at risk.

  Will Debbie be found?

  And will she be found alive?