Eye for an Eye

him?’
    She nodded again.
    ‘Did you report it to the police?’
    ‘I just did.’
    It took a full second for the meaning of her words to reach him. ‘So you’ve not filed a formal complaint?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Have you told anyone else?’
    ‘Only Cindy.’ She lowered her eyes, then whispered, ‘I think he came into my shop.’
    Think? ‘When was this?’
    ‘Later in the morning.’
    ‘He came back?’
    ‘I think so.’
    Gilchrist let his silence do the asking.
    ‘He pretended to be interested in the model Harleys.’
    ‘What do you mean, pretended?’
    ‘He didn’t look the collector type. Cheap clothes. Poor hygiene. Fingernails like, uh.’ She shuddered. ‘He knocked something over and swore out loud then almost ran from the shop when Cindy ordered him to leave.’
    ‘Did you get a good look at him?’
    ‘Just his hair and his filthy fingernails.’ She shuddered again. ‘And he had a cut on his arm.’
    ‘What kind of cut?’
    ‘A scratch, maybe.’
    ‘Was it bleeding?’
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘No blood dripped on the floor?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘And Cindy ordered him to leave?’
    ‘You know what she’s like. She was in his face.’
    Gilchrist nodded. Cindy might be able to give a good description. He made a mental note to talk to her, but not now, not while Beth was close to tears. He fought off the urge to reach for her hand. But it had been a while, and he was not sure how she would respond.
    ‘Beth,’ he said, and tried a smile of reassurance. ‘From what you’ve told me, he sounds like one of those perverts who does it for shock value and nothing more.’ Her lips tightened and he knew his words were having little effect. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’
    She sniffed. ‘It sounds stupid, I know, but I feel as if I’m being targeted or stalked or something.’
    ‘After what’s happened, that’s normal.’
    She shook her head. ‘Why would he come into the shop? I keep asking myself. I don’t know. It’s just this feeling I have. Like a sixth sense, or something.’
    Gilchrist knew all about sixth senses.
    ‘I’m frightened, Andy. I can’t help thinking something else is going to happen.’ Her eyes welled with tears. ‘I’m frightened he’s going to come back.’

CHAPTER 12
     
    After leaving Beth’s shop, pangs of hunger reminded Gilchrist he had not eaten that day. He decided to have a beer and a bite in the Dunvegan Hotel, close to the Old Course.
    But first, he had to call the Office.
    He asked for Sa and declined to give his name, adding that it was a personal call. Being suspended meant no one was supposed to talk to him. Strictly speaking, of course. But as long as Patterson didn’t find—
    ‘This is Sa.’
    ‘Andy here.’
    ‘Are you trying to get me fired?’
    ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ He heard Sa curse under her breath and added, ‘I’d argue I’m on leave of absence.’
    ‘Wouldn’t work.’
    ‘At the worst, I’m suspended.’
    ‘That’s not what Patterson’s saying.’
    Gilchrist gritted his teeth. Patterson was already greying the black and white of the truth. Another week and it would be set in stone that Gilchrist had handed in his notice.
    ‘He’s been sucking up to the ACC,’ Sa continued. ‘Rumour has it McVicar blew a fuse.’
    Archie McVicar. Fife Constabulary’s assistant chief constable. If Patterson was successful in bending McVicar’s ear, Gilchrist’s career was over. ‘Listen, Sa, I need your help.’
    ‘I should’ve known.’
    ‘Beth’s had a bit of an incident at her shop.’
    ‘I thought you two split up ages ago.’
    ‘We did.’
    ‘Is it back on?’
    ‘Quit the interrogation for a minute, and just listen.’
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    Gilchrist told her what Beth had told him, but Sa could confirm only that his complaint was noted and would be looked into once manpower was freed from the Stabber case. All as expected. For the time being, he could do no more.
    He walked down Mercat Wynd, his thoughts on the reasons for his break-up with Beth. The magnitude of his sin had been blown out of all proportion. He worked too hard. Simple as that. They had talked about it, but he got snarled up in yet another case and failed to make a dinner engagement. It still hurt to think how readily she had replaced him with Tom Armstrong, a businessman whom Gilchrist never believed was her type.
    In the Dunvegan a crowd of golfers, replete with beer and whisky, their weather-beaten faces