again?"
Black spots floated in front of my eyes, and he had to release his grip slightly before I could talk.
"Irene...I don't know her surname," I croaked. "...Irene from the Portree Hotel. I was on holiday there and she delivered the car from Portree for Mallaig for me so that I could take a fishing trip. I..."
His hand left my throat.
"See. That was easy," he said, interrupting me.
He turned on his heel and left without another word. The female cop scurried along behind, giving me a look that seemed to say "Sorry, but I'm not with him" before she shut the door quietly behind her.
The encounter had lasted maybe ten seconds. Doug had sat, mouth open through the whole thing.
"You gave her up..." he finally whispered.
"Not quite," I replied. "And if I know her, she can handle herself well enough. It looks like Jim is out for revenge, and I know better than to go up against both the papers and Police at the same time. Have you seen the big fellow before?"
Doug shook his head. He still couldn't believe I'd given the police Irene's name.
I rubbed at my throat.
"I need some air. I'll go and ask Old Joe. He knows everything," I said. "Hold the fort...and don't lock the door behind me...if the big fella comes back he won't bother to knock."
* * *
Old Joe did indeed know the cops.
"The big chap is Jock McCall. He got transferred last month from Govan...rumor has it he was only arresting Celtic supporters as he's Rangers daft. Seems he got a wee bit overzealous and put two lads in the Southern General Hospital. They've moved him up here in the hope that he keeps out of trouble."
"He looks like the kind that trouble follows around," I said.
"I remember him when he was a boy," Joe said. "He was always getting into fights...and usually winning them. Then one day he nearly killed a boy...battered him to a bloody pulp. He was hauled in to the police station...and it put the fear of God into him. Next thing anybody knows, he's a policeman. He's been getting away with battering folk legally ever since."
"Aye, I don't want to get on his bad side."
"He disnae have any other side." Joe said, "But at least you know where you are with him."
Joe shifted his weight from the left foot to his right. I wondered how many times he'd done that over the years. He was looking over my shoulder, watching life go by in the street outside. I knew there wasn't much, if anything, that got past him. I threw him another tester, but he proved up to the challenge.
"So who's the woman?"
"Elizabeth Mulholland. 'Just call me Betty' she says, but mostly folk just ignore her. She follows the big man around like his pet pup. They say she was only brought in to make up the numbers in Maryhill so there would be some women on the beat. "
He shifted his feet again.
"I've heard some talk that she's actually quite smart...for a policewoman. But most of the time she just follows in his wake. Around here they call the pair of them 'The Bear and the Spare'."
* * *
I was still chuckling at that as I climbed back up to the office. The door was open and I could hear Doug's voice.
"Oh no. That's far too much money."
"Nothing is too much money!" I shouted, thinking he was on the phone, but when I walked into the room I saw that old lady Malcolm was once again ensconced in the armchair. At least Doug hadn't brought out the whisky.
"The lady wants to give us five thousand pounds," Doug said.
"And we'll be happy to take it," I said, sitting down opposite her at my desk. "What do you have in mind?"
"I want you to take the boy back to Skye," she said.
"Ah." I said. "There'll be a catch?"
"With money there usually is," she said. "He took off after the funeral. And I don't think going back to Skye was on his mind. He..."
I stopped her before she got into her flow. I didn't need her talking too much...not in front of Doug.
"Where did you last see him?" I asked.
"At the gates of the cemetery after the funeral," she said. Her eyes went wet and she took a
Black spots floated in front of my eyes, and he had to release his grip slightly before I could talk.
"Irene...I don't know her surname," I croaked. "...Irene from the Portree Hotel. I was on holiday there and she delivered the car from Portree for Mallaig for me so that I could take a fishing trip. I..."
His hand left my throat.
"See. That was easy," he said, interrupting me.
He turned on his heel and left without another word. The female cop scurried along behind, giving me a look that seemed to say "Sorry, but I'm not with him" before she shut the door quietly behind her.
The encounter had lasted maybe ten seconds. Doug had sat, mouth open through the whole thing.
"You gave her up..." he finally whispered.
"Not quite," I replied. "And if I know her, she can handle herself well enough. It looks like Jim is out for revenge, and I know better than to go up against both the papers and Police at the same time. Have you seen the big fellow before?"
Doug shook his head. He still couldn't believe I'd given the police Irene's name.
I rubbed at my throat.
"I need some air. I'll go and ask Old Joe. He knows everything," I said. "Hold the fort...and don't lock the door behind me...if the big fella comes back he won't bother to knock."
* * *
Old Joe did indeed know the cops.
"The big chap is Jock McCall. He got transferred last month from Govan...rumor has it he was only arresting Celtic supporters as he's Rangers daft. Seems he got a wee bit overzealous and put two lads in the Southern General Hospital. They've moved him up here in the hope that he keeps out of trouble."
"He looks like the kind that trouble follows around," I said.
"I remember him when he was a boy," Joe said. "He was always getting into fights...and usually winning them. Then one day he nearly killed a boy...battered him to a bloody pulp. He was hauled in to the police station...and it put the fear of God into him. Next thing anybody knows, he's a policeman. He's been getting away with battering folk legally ever since."
"Aye, I don't want to get on his bad side."
"He disnae have any other side." Joe said, "But at least you know where you are with him."
Joe shifted his weight from the left foot to his right. I wondered how many times he'd done that over the years. He was looking over my shoulder, watching life go by in the street outside. I knew there wasn't much, if anything, that got past him. I threw him another tester, but he proved up to the challenge.
"So who's the woman?"
"Elizabeth Mulholland. 'Just call me Betty' she says, but mostly folk just ignore her. She follows the big man around like his pet pup. They say she was only brought in to make up the numbers in Maryhill so there would be some women on the beat. "
He shifted his feet again.
"I've heard some talk that she's actually quite smart...for a policewoman. But most of the time she just follows in his wake. Around here they call the pair of them 'The Bear and the Spare'."
* * *
I was still chuckling at that as I climbed back up to the office. The door was open and I could hear Doug's voice.
"Oh no. That's far too much money."
"Nothing is too much money!" I shouted, thinking he was on the phone, but when I walked into the room I saw that old lady Malcolm was once again ensconced in the armchair. At least Doug hadn't brought out the whisky.
"The lady wants to give us five thousand pounds," Doug said.
"And we'll be happy to take it," I said, sitting down opposite her at my desk. "What do you have in mind?"
"I want you to take the boy back to Skye," she said.
"Ah." I said. "There'll be a catch?"
"With money there usually is," she said. "He took off after the funeral. And I don't think going back to Skye was on his mind. He..."
I stopped her before she got into her flow. I didn't need her talking too much...not in front of Doug.
"Where did you last see him?" I asked.
"At the gates of the cemetery after the funeral," she said. Her eyes went wet and she took a
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