“Apology accepted,” I said as I rested a hand on Reilly’s shoulder for a second. “You know I can’t really stay mad at you.”
Reilly breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed atop his stool, taking the first sip of his drink. “I’m glad to hear it. And I’m glad you’re okay. You had us all worried there.” He hesitated and licked his lips, fiddling with his glass once again as the musicians behind us struck up a tune. “So, are you going to tell me what’s been going on?”
“I can’t tell you all of it,” I warned. Just because I was going to leave parts out didn’t mean I had to lie to Reilly as well. He deserved at least that much of the truth.
Reilly nodded, accepting the caveat, and I was glad he was the sort of man who knew when not to push.
“I’ve been looking into my father’s disappearance again,” I told him. “I’m starting to agree with my mum that it had something to do with his work. I just don’t have a lot of information right now.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Reilly asked. “I didn’t know you when he walked out, but from what you’ve told me, you took it hard. Is that really a wound you want to open again?”
“I think I have to,” I said, staring down into the amber liquid in my glass. “I think at this point, I need answers. The not knowing has become worse than the possibility that I was right all along, and he simply left us.”
“I could help if you wanted me to,” Reilly said. “I’ve still got some old contacts from my days as an inspector. I could put out a few feelers for you.”
“I’m trying to keep it small,” I told him, but I smiled at him to thank him for the offer. “I think the fewer people involved, the better.”
Reilly frowned at me, his expression serious and contemplative. “There’s a lot more to this than you’re telling me, isn’t there?”
I shrugged. “Yes, but you’re retired, and this could get really dangerous. I’ve involved enough people I care about already. I can’t involve anyone else. You deserve a quiet retirement.”
“I can’t argue with you there,” Reilly said and clinked his glass against mine. He raised his drink to his lips but didn’t actually take a sip, just set the cup back down on the counter with a short sigh. “I’ll admit, you’ve got me bloody curious with all the mystery, but if you can’t tell me, I’ll respect that. Just make sure you keep yourself safe, alright?”
“That’s the plan,” I agreed. “Thanks for understanding. But tell me the next time my mother asks you to spy on me, sound good?”
“Your mum’s a lot scarier than you are, lad,” Reilly said with a laugh. “If she doesn’t want me telling, then I’ll be keeping my mouth shut.”
I laughed along with him. “That’s totally fair.” I took another sip of my drink and smacked my lips. “Are you sticking around for a while? I’d love to catch up more once I wrap up this case.”
“I would,” Reilly sighed. “But I only paid the lad watching my cat for five days, so I need to be getting back.”
“Well, it was good to see you, even if it was under false pretences,” I said and leaned over to elbow Reilly in the ribs. “Call more often, yeah?”
“You know me. I always forget my phone’s there.”
“Yes, I do know that.” I grinned. “How about you just pick up when I call then?”
“That I can probably do,” Reilly agreed, matching my smile.
We stayed just long enough to finish our drinks and listen to the session for a while, then Reilly stretched his arms out and yawned, pushing his now empty glass away from him.
“It’s past my bedtime,” he said decisively. “I should get going. I’m glad we had this talk, Callum.”
“Me too,” I agreed and stood up to give him a quick hug. He dropped some money on the counter for our drinks and then shuffled out into the night, pausing at the door to give me one last wave goodbye. I decided I’d stay for just one more drink since the thought of my empty flat wasn’t terribly appealing at the moment, and I swivelled my chair all the way around to face the musicians, letting the fast notes and driving beat wash over me.
I knew better than to ask for a third drink when the barman came to see if I wanted anything else, drinking on my own tended to head into questionable territory, so I simply paid the man for the second drink and hauled myself off the stool, stuffing my hands in my pockets as I moved toward the door.
There were two people outside on the pavement smoking when I stepped out, their faces lit by the orange glow at the end of their cigarettes, though both of them ignored me as I walked towards my car. I unlocked and opened the door, but paused there with a hand on the roof. The night was dark, and there was a gentle breeze wafting along the street, ruffling my hair. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I felt unseen eyes there, and I quickly searched all the shadows for someone watching me. There wasn’t much light on the road since one of the streetlamps needed a new bulb, so there were plenty of places for a watchful eye to hide.
I bit my lip and took a deep breath. Everything was fine. There was no one watching me. I should just go home and lock myself in my flat with all the lights on. That way, I’d be sure no one was snooping around.
I shoved myself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut. I stuffed the key into the ignition and pressed down on the clutch as I twisted it, the engine rumbling to life, the radio a comforting bubble of noise around me. Luckily, the car behind me had left while I was in the pub, so I was able to back up and easily pull away from the kerb, shifting through the gears each time the engine told me it was ready for something new. I kept a close watch on my mirrors as I drove, eyeing each car that fell in line behind me until they finally turned in another direction, my spine rigid and my fingers tight as I gripped the wheel.
I made it home without noticing anything out of the ordinary and parked in my usual spot, glancing up and down the still street as I climbed from the car. My eyes landed on a humanoid shadow in the alley across the way, and I froze with the car door half-closed. I blinked hard, then looked back at it, expecting it to be gone as my mind banished the paranoia-induced vision, but the shadow stuck around, part of it shifting like an arm might.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I shut the car door as quietly and casually as I could as I thought about what to do. That could be nothing. That could be a person out for a smoke or someone waiting for a friend. Hell, it could still be just a very vivid figment of my imagination, but even as I tried to convince myself that there was nothing to worry about, I knew I needed to go over there and check it out.
I stuck my hands in my pockets and found my PAVA canister as I rounded the front of my car and started across the street, angling myself toward the nearest doorway rather than the alley itself, hoping I might steal up on my stalker, although if they were from the shadow organisation, then they’d probably know exactly who I was and what I was up to. I kept an eye on the shadow the entire time, and it shifted again, melding further into the darkness hanging off the alley wall. I picked up the pace, not wanting it to disappear, and as I hit the pavement, I shifted directions, headed right for the alley.
I darted around the corner, PAVA canister in one hand, my phone’s torch in the other, and my mouth open to demand what the hell this person was doing skulking around so late at night, but there was no one there. I frowned, my breath catching in my throat, and then I clenched my jaw, frustrated that my mind had conjured up yet another paranoid fantasy for me to indulge.
I was just about to turn around when I spotted the cigarette butt on the ground. It could have been days old, but I crouched down to check it out anyway, taking an extra glove from my pocket so I wouldn’t damage any potential evidence.
The end was still warm, though it had been stubbed out. Maybe my watcher had dropped it in their haste to slip away before I’d arrived. Maybe they’d left it on purpose because they wanted me to know I was being watched. Maybe they simply didn’t care if I found it.
I didn’t have any evi
dence bags on me, but I used the glove to pick the butt up, and then I stared down the alley with it in hand, squinting against the gloom that my torch barely penetrated. I walked swiftly to the far end of the alley and peered out into the next street, but there was no movement other than someone closing the curtains on the house opposite me. I couldn’t hear any cars moving around, and there were no sounds of footsteps, either. I was alone with the rustle of the wind through the trees and the quiet hum of the phone lines.
I sighed and turned around to head back to my flat, the sensation of watching eyes still heavy on my neck, so heavy that I clapped a hand over it, trying to rub the feeling away. I hurried across the street and let myself into my building, moving swiftly up the stairs to my door and letting myself inside. I turned on the lights and engaged all the locks before I’d even taken my shoes off, and then I grabbed the collapsible stick I’d bought online and shoved it under the knob. That sort of extra security was usually only used in large cities, and I’d never felt the need for it before, but I’d bought it soon after the incident on the Kraken’s houseboat, and Christ, if it didn’t help me feel just a little bit safer. It was probably nothing more than a placebo effect, but I would take what I could get.
I went into the kitchen and found a sandwich bag to stick the cigarette butt in. I’d ask Martin to test it for DNA after we wrapped up the Carmichael case, but for the moment, I took it into my bedroom and stuck it in the drawer of my bedside table for safekeeping.
After that, I took a shower and got myself ready for bed, wandering around the flat to check all the windows as I brushed my teeth. I kept waiting to see another shape in the shadows, but my stalker, if that was who they were, was long gone, and I seemed to be alone.
Eventually, I went to bed, though not until after I’d looked over the locks five times. I settled down amongst the pillows and pulled the blankets up to my chin, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes before I flipped over onto my side and squeezed my eyes shut.
I didn’t sleep, of course. That would have been too much to ask. I keep replaying my search for the shadowy figure over and over again. Sometimes, I caught them there and demanded to know who they were and why they were watching me. Sometimes, we fought. Sometimes, I won, and sometimes, they did. But they never had a face. There were simply shadows where their features should have been, except for the mouth which sneered at me with sharpened teeth and the sly knowledge that they knew more than I did.
When my alarm went off, I was already awake, having snatched maybe a couple of hours of sleep sometime during the night. Maybe. It didn’t really feel like it, though. I groaned as I switched the alarm off and sat up slowly, the blankets falling from around my chin to pool in my lap. I rubbed at my face, trying to force my exhaustion away, and when that didn’t work, I flung the blankets off my legs and swung them over the side of the bed, my bare feet settling on the chilly floor.
I shuffled around the flat, getting ready for the day, brewing myself an extra-strong cup of coffee to try to jolt myself awake. I texted Fletcher while I waited for the water to boil and asked her if she would mind getting started with Martin and the sketch artist while I went to check in with my mum.
She replied a minute later with a quick thumbs-up emoji, so once I was dressed and had my to-go cup in hand and the cigarette butt in my pocket, I headed out the door, locking it behind me and rattling the knob to make sure the latch was properly engaged. I went down to my car and took a look around the street before I got in, as was becoming my habit. There was no sign of anyone down that alley, but I still shivered as I looked like it. I pretended like the reaction came from the cold wind blowing across my face and not my rampant paranoia.
I shot my mum a text to let her know I was coming over. Maybe the Kraken would actually tell us what she knew today. If she left us hanging again, I was going to start believing that she was just leading us on, and I was not going to be very happy about it.
For once, the early morning traffic wasn’t that bad. I’d managed to catch it at just the right time and hit all green lights on my way out to my mum’s house, drumming my finger against the steering wheel all the way in an effort to expel some of my pent up nervous energy. Eleanor’s car was in the drive when I arrived, so I parked beside it and yawned as I got out, the gravel crunching under my boots.
I approached the front door and knocked, waiting until I heard Eleanor’s call to enter before I let myself in, wiping my shoes off on the mat. I travelled down the front hall until I found the Kraken and my mum in the kitchen, drinking tea and eating scones.
“Callum, what can we do for you?” my mum asked. Her posture was casual as she delicately sipped from her mug, but I could tell she was very glad I was there, and there was definite tension swirling through the air between her and the Kraken. “Can I get you a cup of tea?”
“I’m alright, thanks,” I said as I stepped up to the counter and leaned my elbows on it. “I just came to see if you were ready to talk.” I speared the Kraken with a sharp stare, which she met for three seconds before turning back to her tea, completely unbothered.
“Well?” Eleanor asked her, shifting on her stool to face the Kraken fully.
The Kraken certainly took her sweet time answering us. She sipped her tea for a few moments, smacking her lips after each one, and then she finally set her mug down on the counter, folding her hands primly in her lap as she looked both of us over.
“You’re not going to ask me how I’m doing, Callum?” she said coyly. “I was stabbed after all.”
I ground my teeth together and forced myself to take a deep breath. I wasn’t going to leap across the counter and strangle this old, injured woman. At least, not while she still had information I needed.
“How are you?” I asked, pushing each word out like I had cotton stuffed in my mouth, giving the Kraken a rictus smile.
“Much better, thank you for asking,” she quipped as she smirked at me. “Your mother has the best bedside manner.”
“I’ll show you bedside manner,” Eleanor muttered, her fingers twitched toward the knife that lay by the butter not far from her hand.
“Now about that information?” I prompted before my mum could decide to actually stab the Kraken again.
The Kraken stretched atop her stool, though she had to abort the motion halfway through when it pulled on her stitches, and she flinched, frowning as she settled back down. “Are you sure you’re ready for it? Aren’t you in the middle of some other big case? I wouldn’t want to distract you from that work.”
I took another deep breath, a short mantra about staying calm marching through my head a couple of times before I could answer. “I think not knowing is far more distracting. Would you please just stop playing games? I know everything’s a joke to you because you’re so used to seeing it from behind a computer screen, but this is our lives. This is my father’s life. I need you to tell us what you know without any quips or jokes or beating around the bush. Now.”
The Kraken had gone stock-still as I spoke, her expression turning stony as the corners of her mouth turned down, and all her muscles stiffened, and I was surprised by the sudden shift in her. Something I’d said had obviously struck a chord. I’d never expected to rattle her like that as she’d always seemed so uncaring.
“Is that what you think of me?” the Kraken asked coldly. “That I’m some kind of sociopathic shut-in who only knows how to experience the world through a computer screen?”
“You’ve never really given me a reason to believe otherwise,” I replied. It seemed I’d hurt her feelings, and while I felt a little bad about that, I also wasn’t going to back down because the Kraken had been toying with me from the moment we’d met, and I was sick of it.
“Yes, I’m a hacker. Yes, I spend most of my time at a computer,” the Kraken said. Her voice was low and more than a little dangerous, and her jaw twitched as she looked at me. “But that’s because that’s what I’m best at. That’s the only way I know how to make a dif
ference. Do you have any idea what I’ve done for people without any expectation of thanks? Any idea how many times I’ve put myself in danger to help? How I’ve put myself in more danger to help you?”
“Don’t pretend to be so altruistic,” Eleanor interrupted, and she matched the Kraken’s cold tone note for note. “You weren’t just in it to ‘make a difference’ or whatever. You made yourself an awful lot of money along the way, and you weren’t afraid to sell secrets to the other side as well.”
“And how the hell would you know that?” the Kraken demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest.
My mother smiled at her slyly. “I probably shouldn’t have let you use my computer, but you left your weird little backdoor open when you logged off. You probably thought I wouldn’t notice, but I snooped through some of your files and records. Fascinating stuff.”
The Kraken gaped at Eleanor, her mouth falling open as genuine shock shot across her face, and I found myself grinning. I’d never known my mum was that good with computers, but I supposed she would have picked a few things up from Martin and my father over the years.
“More than enough to get you arrested, too,” my mum mused as she picked up her mug of tea and sipped from it. “Though I’ll admit I’m impressed that you spent so much time wiping out people’s debt. That was pretty good of you.”
“Are you… blackmailing me?” the Kraken spluttered. “After I came here and risked my own life to help you? Really? Do you think that’s going to work? I’ll just take my info and go, and you’ll never be able to find me unless I want you to.”
Eleanor smiled, the expression more than a little terrifying. “Oh, honey, that wasn’t a threat. I would certainly never try to blackmail anyone. I’m a former police officer, after all, and that would be illegal. I’m simply… reminding you of your situation and the fact that you came to us, not the other way around.”
Fatal Transaction: A DCI MacBain Scottish Crime Thriller Page 24
