Eye for an Eye

morning with food.’ Matthews shook a brown bottle in front of him. ‘Another one at night. You should get by without too much discomfort. They’re powerful. So be careful.’
    Gilchrist took the bottle and slid from the gurney. His feet landed on the tiled floor with a thump that sent a stab of pain across his chest, despite the painkillers.
    ‘Oh,’ said Matthews, ‘as best we can tell, you have at least two fractured ribs. Once the bruising settles down, the X-rays might show up some more. I’m afraid there’s not a lot we can do for these except tell you not to play scrum-half for six weeks.’
    ‘How about full-back?’
    Matthews shook his head in mock dismay. ‘That, too. And no alcohol with these, my man. D’you hear?’
    Gilchrist put the brown bottle into his pocket and left the consulting room, Stan by his side, ready to give physical support. But Gilchrist grumbled, ‘I can manage,’ then grimaced as he opened the main doors.
    ‘Does it hurt, boss?’
    ‘Only when I laugh.’
    ‘Well in that case, you won’t feel a thing.’
    Gilchrist almost stopped, but followed Stan to the car and waited until the younger man put the key into the ignition before he leaned across and gripped the steering wheel.
    Stan looked at him. ‘Desperate to drive, are we?’
    ‘You never could play dumb with me, Stan. What won’t make me laugh?’
    ‘It’s nothing. It’s just a joke. Okay?’
    ‘Why don’t I believe you?’
    ‘You’ve been a detective too long, boss. You hear people coughing up crap all day long, day in, day out. All the lies. All the shite.’ He shrugged. ‘After a while you believe the whole world’s a lying sack of shite.’
    ‘Good try. But I’m not buying it.’
    Stan glared at Gilchrist’s hands on the steering wheel. ‘Are we going to sit here all day like this?’
    ‘If we have to.’
    ‘Anyone ever told you you can be a right pain in the arse?’
    ‘Plenty.’
    Stan shook his head as if at the futility of it all, then dropped his voice. ‘You didn’t hear this from me. Okay?’
    ‘Anything you say.’
    ‘No, I mean it. Patterson’ll boil my balls if he finds out.’
    To show his sincerity, Gilchrist removed his hands from the steering wheel.
    ‘Patterson doesn’t want you back. He’s talking to Archie McVicar to get you removed from the Force.’
    Gilchrist gave a dry chuckle, felt a stab of pain at his side. ‘Shit, Stan. I thought you said this wasn’t going to make me laugh. I know all about McVicar. Patterson threatened me with it yesterday morning.’
    ‘I’m not talking about yesterday, boss. I’m talking about this morning.’
    This morning? Gilchrist waited.
    ‘You visited Garvie against his specific instructions—’
    ‘I’m suspended, Stan. Remember? Patterson’s specific instructions don’t include me.’
    ‘You’re splitting hairs.’
    ‘That’s not what McVicar’ll think.’
    ‘Patterson’ll convince him.’
    ‘Trust me, Stan. He won’t.’
    ‘That’s not the problem.’
    ‘Go on,’ encouraged Gilchrist.
    Stan shifted in his seat to face Gilchrist. ‘Patterson’s preparing a warrant for your arrest, boss. He’s going to have you brought in tomorrow morning. First thing.’
    Gilchrist clenched his jaw. He could kick himself for not returning McVicar’s message. But he was afraid of being forced to retire, terrified of losing the one thing in his life that kept him going.
    ‘What’s Patterson going to have me pulled in for?’
    ‘Garvie says you sexually assaulted her.’
    ‘And Patterson believes her?’ Gilchrist gave out a gasp of disgust. ‘The man’s a bigger fool than I took him for.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Andy.’
    ‘For what? The whole thing stinks. It’s a set-up.’
    ‘That’s not what Garvie says.’
    ‘Garvie says nothing.’
    Stan stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘The complaint that was allegedly filed against me,’ said Gilchrist. ‘Garvie knew nothing about it.’
    Stan gave Gilchrist’s words some thought, then said, ‘She has a witness.’
    Gilchrist felt a hand of ice stroke his spine. He forced himself to keep his voice level. ‘Who?’
    ‘Maggie Hendren.’
    An image of Maggie almost bumping into him in Lafferty’s rushed into his mind.
Our little group
. ‘Have you interviewed her?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Has Patterson?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘DeFiore?’
    ‘Look, boss—’
    ‘Anybody?’
    Silence.
    ‘Does that not tell you something, Stan?’
    ‘It tells me I don’t want anything to