and respectability decided a man's merit, rather than sheer guts and bravery.
Well, they'd had sheer guts and bravery this time, his cohabiting with a lady investigator (despised by the Edinburgh City Police and adherents) the only fly in the ointment ... if Jack survived.
Gray was saying, 'This is an anxious time for you, Mrs McQuinn.' A grave headshake. 'Indeed, for all of us. Jack is a fine officer, the very best and we don't want to-- We cannot afford to ... to lose him.'
A man approached. White coat, serious expression and the dangling stethoscope announced 'doctor'. A door opened from the operating room and we stepped aside - a stretcher with a sheeted figure, a still white face barely recognisable as Jack.
I called his name and the doctor held my arm. At least the sheet wasn't covering his face. He was still alive.
Gray stepped forward, gave me a hard look and said to the doctor, 'This is Mrs McQuinn, a close friend of Inspector Macmerry.'
He was introduced as Mr Wainland, which indicated the rank of surgeon. He bowed, arranged his face into the right aspect of cheerful but cautious optimism. I regarded the white coat, not covered in blood, quite pristine, substituted for the butcher's leather apron or even the greatcoat, white shirt and cravat of the dandified surgeons operating before medical students in the past century.
'Is he going to be all right?' I asked. It sounded so banal but it was precisely all I wanted to know.
The surgeon straightened his shoulders and I could see how exhausted he was. 'It has been a long and delicate operation but we managed to remove the bullet without damaging the main artery.'
At this information CI Gray nodded eagerly. A lot of technical medical detail followed which I didn't understand, but was relieved to see it ended with the slightest of smiles.
'We have reasons for hope, especially as the patient has a good health record, and given a little time, should make a good recovery. Rest assured, we have done all we can. The rest we leave in God's hands,' the surgeon ended piously.
'When can I see him?'
He frowned. 'Not immediately, I'm afraid. In a day or two, let us see how he progresses ...'
A nurse hovered. His attention needed urgently, the surgeon bowed and was gone, bustling down the corridor.
Gray was also eager to depart, consulting his timepiece in a manner of urgency. 'We will be keeping in close touch with Jack's progress and I will send someone immediately he is able to see visitors, Mrs McQuinn.'
With that I had to be content, although my inclination would be to haunt this corridor outside Jack's ward every day until I saw for myself that he was recovering.
As we walked out of the hospital Gray courteously offered me a lift in his carriage which I declined politely, indicating my bicycle. His nod contained relief, as well as faint disapproval, confirming his opinion of my eccentric and bohemian behaviour, out of keeping with the code of conduct for senior police officers' wives.
Too upset to return to Solomon's Tower and brood over my fears for Jack, I decided to continue into the town and call on Meg in her new home. That would be something to cheer him on my first visit.
Turning the corner on to South Bridge, Sergeant Wright was heading briskly towards the hospital gates. He too looked grave as he saluted me. I dismounted. He had been present at the shooting incident and I wanted to know every detail. Pointing to a cafe across the road, I said, 'Inspector Macmerry is still unconscious but they have successfully removed the bullet.'
Wright gave a sigh of relief as I went on, 'He is not able to have visitors, still unconscious, but if you have time to spare for a cup of tea, I would be most grateful to know exactly what happened.'
As we sat down and waited to be served, he said, 'The man we were after had shot his wife and her lover in a Glasgow tenement and fled to Edinburgh, taking refuge in a house in the Canongate, where he was holding the occupant,
Well, they'd had sheer guts and bravery this time, his cohabiting with a lady investigator (despised by the Edinburgh City Police and adherents) the only fly in the ointment ... if Jack survived.
Gray was saying, 'This is an anxious time for you, Mrs McQuinn.' A grave headshake. 'Indeed, for all of us. Jack is a fine officer, the very best and we don't want to-- We cannot afford to ... to lose him.'
A man approached. White coat, serious expression and the dangling stethoscope announced 'doctor'. A door opened from the operating room and we stepped aside - a stretcher with a sheeted figure, a still white face barely recognisable as Jack.
I called his name and the doctor held my arm. At least the sheet wasn't covering his face. He was still alive.
Gray stepped forward, gave me a hard look and said to the doctor, 'This is Mrs McQuinn, a close friend of Inspector Macmerry.'
He was introduced as Mr Wainland, which indicated the rank of surgeon. He bowed, arranged his face into the right aspect of cheerful but cautious optimism. I regarded the white coat, not covered in blood, quite pristine, substituted for the butcher's leather apron or even the greatcoat, white shirt and cravat of the dandified surgeons operating before medical students in the past century.
'Is he going to be all right?' I asked. It sounded so banal but it was precisely all I wanted to know.
The surgeon straightened his shoulders and I could see how exhausted he was. 'It has been a long and delicate operation but we managed to remove the bullet without damaging the main artery.'
At this information CI Gray nodded eagerly. A lot of technical medical detail followed which I didn't understand, but was relieved to see it ended with the slightest of smiles.
'We have reasons for hope, especially as the patient has a good health record, and given a little time, should make a good recovery. Rest assured, we have done all we can. The rest we leave in God's hands,' the surgeon ended piously.
'When can I see him?'
He frowned. 'Not immediately, I'm afraid. In a day or two, let us see how he progresses ...'
A nurse hovered. His attention needed urgently, the surgeon bowed and was gone, bustling down the corridor.
Gray was also eager to depart, consulting his timepiece in a manner of urgency. 'We will be keeping in close touch with Jack's progress and I will send someone immediately he is able to see visitors, Mrs McQuinn.'
With that I had to be content, although my inclination would be to haunt this corridor outside Jack's ward every day until I saw for myself that he was recovering.
As we walked out of the hospital Gray courteously offered me a lift in his carriage which I declined politely, indicating my bicycle. His nod contained relief, as well as faint disapproval, confirming his opinion of my eccentric and bohemian behaviour, out of keeping with the code of conduct for senior police officers' wives.
Too upset to return to Solomon's Tower and brood over my fears for Jack, I decided to continue into the town and call on Meg in her new home. That would be something to cheer him on my first visit.
Turning the corner on to South Bridge, Sergeant Wright was heading briskly towards the hospital gates. He too looked grave as he saluted me. I dismounted. He had been present at the shooting incident and I wanted to know every detail. Pointing to a cafe across the road, I said, 'Inspector Macmerry is still unconscious but they have successfully removed the bullet.'
Wright gave a sigh of relief as I went on, 'He is not able to have visitors, still unconscious, but if you have time to spare for a cup of tea, I would be most grateful to know exactly what happened.'
As we sat down and waited to be served, he said, 'The man we were after had shot his wife and her lover in a Glasgow tenement and fled to Edinburgh, taking refuge in a house in the Canongate, where he was holding the occupant,
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