at any moment awake and devour him. When McLean plipped the key for his own car, the bleep and flashing made him jump visibly. It took a long time, standing in a freezing wind, to persuade the ex-soldier to get in.
Thejourney down to the shelter was mercifully short. While Gordy didn’t smell like someone who had been sleeping rough and getting most of his food from a wheelie bin round the back of Tesco, he wasn’t exactly fresh. Fortunately he found the window button and wound it down almost as soon as McLean had started the engine. And leather seats could always be cleaned.
McLean had two reasons for bringing the ex-soldier to the shelter. For one thing, he couldn’t just turn the man back out into the night; not with the temperature dropping well below freezing and a forecast of blizzard conditions by the morning. He was also intrigued by Gordy’s story. True, the man was a walking advertisement for Care in the Community, but something had happened to him, and recently. And it had been traumatic enough to make him come to the police. He wasn’t one of the regulars, either. The duty sergeant would have recognized him if he had been. Chances were that someone in the shelter would recognize him, though. And there was a chance they might know who this Billbo was, too.
The welcoming aroma of hot soup spilled out through the door as McLean led Gordy into the shelter. It must have been piped there from the serving tables, as it was soon overwhelmed by the less pleasant smell of long-unwashed bodies and poor dental hygiene. McLean could sense the ex-soldier tensing beside him as the noise washed over them both, and it occurred to him that bringing a man used to the open air into a room that was a claustrophobe’s nightmare might not have been such a good idea.
‘We’llget you something to eat, yes? Then maybe see if you can get a bed for the night.’
Gordy followed reluctantly as McLean led him to the serving tables. Hunger overcame fear when he was handed a bowl filled with steaming chunky broth and a thick hunk of brown bread. The serving lady was about to dole some out for McLean too, but he waved her down.
‘Jeannie Robertson in?’
The question earned him a raised eyebrow, so he quickly took out his warrant card, showing it as surreptitiously as he could manage. Most of the clients of this particular establishment were less than comfortable in the presence of the police, and on a night like this one he really didn’t want to be responsible for them deciding outside was safer.
‘I’ll just fetch her.’ The serving lady shooed a hand at the warrant card in the hope that it would disappear, then hurried off into the kitchen. When McLean turned to see where Gordy had gone, he found the ex-soldier sitting at a table nearby, eating like a man who’d not seen a square meal in a decade.
‘Tony McLean. How nice to see you. What brings you here?’
McLean noticed that Jeannie Robertson hadn’t called him Inspector, as she did whenever they met at the hospital. As a nurse, she’d tended to his grandmother for eighteen months, but it wasn’t until recently that he’d found out she volunteered in the soup kitchens as well. Her generosity made him feel slightly inadequate.
‘Just dropping round a new customer.’ He pointed towhere Gordy was wiping the inside of his bowl with his bread. ‘You know him?’
A frown furrowed the nurse’s brow. ‘You know what this lot are like. I can’t go telling tales to just anyone.’
McLean shrugged. ‘Not sure there’s really anything I can do anyway. Just Gordy there came into the station earlier ranting about dark angels and how they’d taken his friend. Poor bugger’s not had much luck in life.’
‘And you thought you’d do him a good turn?’ Jeannie’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise. Then she shook her head. ‘Sadly I can’t help anyway. He’s new to me. Mind you, this weather’s brought a lot of folk in I’ve not seen before. I don’t doubt you
Thejourney down to the shelter was mercifully short. While Gordy didn’t smell like someone who had been sleeping rough and getting most of his food from a wheelie bin round the back of Tesco, he wasn’t exactly fresh. Fortunately he found the window button and wound it down almost as soon as McLean had started the engine. And leather seats could always be cleaned.
McLean had two reasons for bringing the ex-soldier to the shelter. For one thing, he couldn’t just turn the man back out into the night; not with the temperature dropping well below freezing and a forecast of blizzard conditions by the morning. He was also intrigued by Gordy’s story. True, the man was a walking advertisement for Care in the Community, but something had happened to him, and recently. And it had been traumatic enough to make him come to the police. He wasn’t one of the regulars, either. The duty sergeant would have recognized him if he had been. Chances were that someone in the shelter would recognize him, though. And there was a chance they might know who this Billbo was, too.
The welcoming aroma of hot soup spilled out through the door as McLean led Gordy into the shelter. It must have been piped there from the serving tables, as it was soon overwhelmed by the less pleasant smell of long-unwashed bodies and poor dental hygiene. McLean could sense the ex-soldier tensing beside him as the noise washed over them both, and it occurred to him that bringing a man used to the open air into a room that was a claustrophobe’s nightmare might not have been such a good idea.
‘We’llget you something to eat, yes? Then maybe see if you can get a bed for the night.’
Gordy followed reluctantly as McLean led him to the serving tables. Hunger overcame fear when he was handed a bowl filled with steaming chunky broth and a thick hunk of brown bread. The serving lady was about to dole some out for McLean too, but he waved her down.
‘Jeannie Robertson in?’
The question earned him a raised eyebrow, so he quickly took out his warrant card, showing it as surreptitiously as he could manage. Most of the clients of this particular establishment were less than comfortable in the presence of the police, and on a night like this one he really didn’t want to be responsible for them deciding outside was safer.
‘I’ll just fetch her.’ The serving lady shooed a hand at the warrant card in the hope that it would disappear, then hurried off into the kitchen. When McLean turned to see where Gordy had gone, he found the ex-soldier sitting at a table nearby, eating like a man who’d not seen a square meal in a decade.
‘Tony McLean. How nice to see you. What brings you here?’
McLean noticed that Jeannie Robertson hadn’t called him Inspector, as she did whenever they met at the hospital. As a nurse, she’d tended to his grandmother for eighteen months, but it wasn’t until recently that he’d found out she volunteered in the soup kitchens as well. Her generosity made him feel slightly inadequate.
‘Just dropping round a new customer.’ He pointed towhere Gordy was wiping the inside of his bowl with his bread. ‘You know him?’
A frown furrowed the nurse’s brow. ‘You know what this lot are like. I can’t go telling tales to just anyone.’
McLean shrugged. ‘Not sure there’s really anything I can do anyway. Just Gordy there came into the station earlier ranting about dark angels and how they’d taken his friend. Poor bugger’s not had much luck in life.’
‘And you thought you’d do him a good turn?’ Jeannie’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise. Then she shook her head. ‘Sadly I can’t help anyway. He’s new to me. Mind you, this weather’s brought a lot of folk in I’ve not seen before. I don’t doubt you
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