Eye for an Eye

staccato chuckle that had stayed with him since he was a boy.
    ‘Hey, I heard on the news that the Stabber struck again last night.’
    ‘That’s right,’ said Gilchrist, remembering with a spurt of disappointment that the last time Jack had called was when the Stabber’s third victim had been found.
    ‘And the Scottish Crime Squad’s been pulled in, too. Is that normal?’
    ‘Yes and no.’
    ‘So where does that put you?’
    ‘Out the loop.’
    ‘As in fired?’
    ‘Not quite. Suspended. And don’t sound so happy about it.’
    ‘Shit, Andy. No, I’m not. Shit, man. That’s a bummer.’ A pause, then, ‘Hey, listen. How about you come down for a visit? I’ve got a project on at the moment that’ll blow your mind.’
    ‘Maybe I’ll take you up on that.’ But Gilchrist knew he had no intention of travelling to Glasgow. ‘Of course, you and eh ...’
    ‘Chloe.’
    Chloe? ‘You and Chloe could come up here for a weekend. It’s been a while since we’ve had a few beers together. I’d love to meet her.’
    ‘Sounds great, but I think you should come down here first.’
    It was not like Jack to be so persistent to see his old man. Gilchrist shifted the phone to his other ear. ‘What are you trying to tell me?’
    The line hung in electronic silence for a long second, then Jack said, ‘Has, uh ... have you heard from Maureen?’
    ‘No.’ And it struck Gilchrist that this was the real reason Jack had called, the Stabber’s most recent murder only an excuse to make contact. ‘All right, cough it up.’
    ‘It’s Mum.’
    ‘What about her?’
    A pause, then, ‘She’s got cancer.’
    Something tight clamped Gilchrist’s chest. ‘How bad is it?’ he asked.
    ‘It’s bad.’
    Gilchrist felt his lungs empty. When had he last talked to Gail? What had she said? How had he felt? Had she been ill then? He took a deep breath, tried to keep his voice level. ‘Has she had a second opinion?’
    ‘And a third. And a fourth. You know what Mum’s like.’
    Gilchrist searched for something to say, but his mind seemed lost in a mental smog.
    ‘It’s the pancreas, Andy. There’s no doubt. And no hope.’
    ‘How long does she have?’ he heard someone ask.
    ‘Three months. Six at the max.’
    ‘I can come down and ...’
    ‘That’s why I’m calling.’
    Gilchrist squeezed the phone.
    ‘Mum doesn’t want you to come.’
    Jack’s words reverberated in the depths of his brain, the cruel truth of his failed relationship with Gail.
Mum doesn’t want you to come.
My God, did she hate him that much? What had happened between them? When had they changed? He could still remember her telling him she would love him for ever, and later, when ...
    ‘I think you should.’
    ‘Come again?’
    ‘I don’t agree with her. I think you should come down. You owe her that.’
    It was on the tip of his tongue to remind Jack he owed Gail nothing. Instead, he tried to imagine giving Harry, her new husband, a hug of support when they met. But it was a bit like trying to imagine Bush hugging Bin Laden. ‘What about Harry?’ he asked.
    ‘Harry? He’s a wanker.’
    ‘A wanker he might be, Jack, but he’s still her husband.’
    A quick snort, then, ‘So what do you say?’
    Gilchrist stared along Market Street. Images of Gail and him and their kids marching along that same cobbled street on their way to the East Sands stirred in his mind’s eye.
That I’ve failed you as a father?
he wanted to say.
That I wish Gail had never left? That I still love her?
‘What the hell do you expect me to say?’ he grumbled.
    ‘I take it that’s a yes?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Great. Hey, listen, Andy. Got to go.’ Something rustled in the background and Gilchrist realized Jack was still in bed. ‘I’ll get back to you and let you know what’d be a good time to come down,’ Jack added. ‘All right?’
    ‘Sure.’
    They said their farewells, Gilchrist pleased he had at least forced a promise from Jack to call again. But images of Gail now flickered through his mind like an old movie. When she left six years ago, he had been devastated to the point of not wanting to live. Suicide seemed such an easy way to end the pain, but the thought of how that might affect Jack and Maureen had kept the lid on the pills. Then, when Gail left St Andrews, feelings of helplessness had risen inside him, reminding him of how he felt when his mother had told him his older brother, Jack – he had named his own son after him – was not