Eye for an Eye

man, St Andrews has been the focal point of the national news ever since that royal brat set foot in the place. And while he’s here, the last thing we need is a serial killer racking up his score because of your incompetence.’ Patterson’s nostrils flared, and Gilchrist had an image of fire and smoke billowing over the desk. ‘Whether you like it or not, Gilchrist, you will take medical leave.’
    ‘There’s nothing wrong with my health.’
    ‘I know that, for Christ’s sake.’
    Gilchrist shook his head. ‘I won’t do it.’
    ‘All right,’ said Patterson. ‘If that’s your decision.’
    His manner was too calm for comfort. Gilchrist waited for the sting. It came in the following breath.
    ‘Let me put it this way, Gilchrist. Medical leave gives you the chance to have your job back when the case is solved.’
    Gilchrist felt anger burn his face. The thought of grabbing Patterson by his hair and slamming him nose first onto his desk was almost irresistible. ‘And if it isn’t?’
    Patterson seemed not to notice Gilchrist’s emotional struggle, and shrugged. ‘Alternatively, we could just fire you.’
    ‘For what?’
    ‘Incompetence. Insubordination. Poor time-keeping. Screwing secretaries. Like me to continue?’
    ‘That’s your prerogative.’
    ‘I’ve never liked you, Gilchrist. You’ve always known that. But others more senior than I seem to hold you in high esteem. They value your abilities as an investigator, of all things.’ He chuckled. ‘Mind boggling, if you ask me.’
    Gilchrist almost laughed. He saw it now. Patterson wanted to fire him, but his hands were tied by others more senior. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ he said. ‘I’m off the case. Not for medical reasons but because you think I’m incompetent, the worst DI in the history of Fife Constabulary.’
    Anger flared in Patterson’s eyes, held for a moment, then vanished. It really was amazing to follow the man’s thought process. Patterson pushed his seat back and stood, as if to intimidate Gilchrist. But at five-ten, he was a good three inches shorter. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but you’ll have to suffer the consequences.’
    ‘For what?’
    ‘Your failure to perform.’
    ‘And the consequences are?’
    ‘Demotion.’
    Gilchrist walked away.
    ‘Get back here, Gilchrist. I’m not finished with you yet.’
    Gilchrist reached the door, opened it, then faced Patterson. ‘I’m doing you a favour by stepping out of the way, Mark. So don’t push your luck.’
    ‘I’m warning you, Gilchrist—’
    ‘Do you know what your problem is?’
    Patterson’s head jerked.
    ‘You’re so hell-bent on trying to even some imaginary score that you’ve forgotten what the game’s about. But let me tell you this. One word about a nervous breakdown, and I’ll sue you personally. I’ll hit you so hard you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to play the game in the first place.’
    Gilchrist eased the door shut and took the stairs two at a time. Outside, he felt strangely elated. North Street was still closed. Overhead, a flock of seagulls wheeled from sight, leaving the echo of their harsh cries on the breeze. To his right, four women huddled in a concerned cluster, whispering.
    He crossed the street and stood with his back against a wall, waiting for Sa to appear. Ten minutes later she stepped from a door into the brightening sunlight, PC Norris behind her.
    ‘Any luck?’ he said to her.
    She shook her head. ‘Everyone we’ve interviewed saw nothing and heard nothing. Maybe the others are having better luck. We’ll find out at debriefing.’
    ‘I won’t be there. I’m off the case.’
    ‘Patterson fired you?’
    ‘Suspended.’ He walked away, fingers by his ear in a make-believe telephone receiver. ‘Call me later on my mobile. Oh, and some guy by the name of DeFiore is coming up from Edinburgh. He’s with the Scottish Crime Squad.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Your new boss.’

CHAPTER 8
     
    The leather whistles through the air and smacks my mother’s buttocks. I flinch at the strike and start to cry. My father twists the belt with a deftness that is startling, and hits her with the buckle end. I think he will stop when he sees she is bleeding, but the sight of blood seems to drive him on. He shifts his stance and whips the buckle hard across her face. Her left eyeball bursts, weeps black and red.
    I scream. Timmy’s hand crushes my mouth, pressing so hard I think he is going to burst my lips.
    My father turns his