House of Dust by Paul Johnston Page A

severed.”
    â€œOh, you noticed?” Sophia said ironically. “There’s no arguing with the test results, Quint. Second, the preliminary analysis shows an as yet unidentified chemical compound in his veins.”
    â€œWhat kind of substance?” Katharine asked. “Sometimes those kids pick up new designer drugs from smugglers.”
    â€œIt may be something of that sort,” Sophia agreed. She gave me a stern look. “Unfortunately the city’s chief toxicologist has been missing for a fortnight so we’re not well equipped to identify the compound. His department’s doing the best it can.”
    I sat down heavily, suddenly aware of the fact that I hadn’t slept last night. “Could it have something to do with the state he’s been in?”
    Sophia nodded. “Quite possibly. The assailant may have put him under before severing the arm. The reduction in heart rate and oxygen intake may have caused permanent brain damage – it’s too early to say.”
    â€œSo we may not get a description of his attacker from him,” I said. “Great.”
    Sophia put the file down slowly. “And I’m still no clearer about what was used to sever the arm. The surfaces are smooth but not as clean as a heavy blade such as a cleaver would produce. And the sealing, cauterisation, whatever – I can’t make sense of it.” She looked at me desperately. “I don’t suppose the scene-of-crime squad has found anything suggestive?”
    I gave a hollow laugh. “That would be too easy, Sophia. The finger is still missing as well, by the way.”
    â€œIn that case the lunatic who took this arm off is still out there,” she said, her face pale. “With the means to do it again.”
    The conversation ended.
    Katharine and I headed to the exit in silence. Not for long. As we were crossing the reception area, a voice rang out.
    â€œHere, Katharine!”
    I looked to my left and saw a figure with his forearm in plaster approaching. I recognised him immediately. Oh shit.
    â€œHello, Gus,” Katharine said. “How’s your—?” She broke off as the youth with the red flash on his cheek gave me a fearful stare.
    â€œThis is the bastard who broke my fuckin’ wrist,” Gus yelled, his voice breaking. “Dinnae let him near me.”
    The look I got from Katharine would have made William Wallace wet himself.

Chapter Five

    â€œSo now you’re beating up kids, Quint.”
    Katharine had managed to contain herself until we reached the middle of the infirmary courtyard. Then she planted herself in front of me and set to.
    â€œHe’s a gangbanger,” I said, knowing already that this was an argument I wasn’t going to win. “He and his pal were stealing citizens’ vouchers.”
    â€œAnd that gave you the right to break his wrist?” she shouted, her eyes wide. “Christ, you’re no better than one of the guard’s beaters.”
    I tried to step round her but she moved to cut me off. “The beaters go looking for trouble,” I said, avoiding her gaze. “I came across the robbery by chance.”
    Katharine jabbed her finger into my chest. “My hero,” she said sarcastically. “Edinburgh’s knight in a shining donkey jacket. Has it ever occurred to you that the city’s young people need sympathy and help?” She shook her head. “What good is more violence?”
    I stared at a pair of guard drivers who were leaning against their vehicles’ doors and watching us avidly. “Your wee pal Gus went for me with a sharpened stick, Katharine,” I hissed. “What should I have done? Invite him round for tea and scones?”
    That only enraged her more. “For God’s sake, Quint, I thought you were different from the rest of the lunatics in the Public Order Directorate.” She was leaning towards me, her lips wet and her chin