Eye for an Eye

top of the photograph had been cut, and saw now that its edge had not been trimmed to fit the frame, but to centre a snapshot taken by someone unfamiliar with photography.
    All of a sudden the fog lifted.

CHAPTER 31
     
    Wind whips icy blasts across open fields.
    I pull my anorak tight and turn to face the cottage. Through the kitchen window I watch Patterson’s wife move into the dining room. I can tell from her vacant look that her expectations of life have passed her by. She is a beaten woman. In body, as well as in mind.
    I see in her actions the same lifeless movements of my mother, her body and hands going through the motions of day-to-day existence. Another dead soul. It is disgusting how her husband has treated her. On the surface, he is someone regarded in high esteem, a man who holds one of the highest offices of public trust. But he is a hypocrite, a betrayer of his profession and of those who placed their trust in him.
    He is the worst kind of misogynist.
    Soon he will suffer the consequences of his hypocrisy.
     
    ‘This is Detective Inspector Gilchrist. Put me through to Stan, please.’
    ‘He’s not here, sir. Have you tried his mobile?’
    ‘Of course I’ve tried his mobile. It’s switched off.’
    ‘Well, all I can do is—’
    ‘Who’s he with?’
    ‘DC Wilson.’
    ‘Could you give me her mobile number?’
    ‘I’m not allowed to give that out, sir.’
    ‘Who am I speaking to?’
    A pause, then, ‘Constable Greg James. Sir. I can get DC Davidson on the radio and have him give you a—’
    ‘Forget it,’ snapped Gilchrist.
    Why had he not asked for Norris, or any other of a number of detectives and officers for that matter? Because he trusted Stan. Simple as that. Over the years, his level of trust in others had deteriorated. Then a thought struck him.
    He trusted Alyson Baird, too. She worked as a secretary in the upper office, providing support for Patterson and others.
    But at that time of night, was she still there?
    Gilchrist pressed REDIAL . He had often puzzled over his affair with Alyson. Gail had left six months earlier and drink had played its usual will-weakening part. The affair had been short-lived but its sexual passion had provided Gilchrist a much-needed lift. More importantly, its secret survived Patterson’s interrogation. Alyson had denied it all with a barefaced ease that had astonished Gilchrist at the time.
    His call was answered once more by Constable James.
    ‘Alyson Baird,’ he said.
    It took four rings before Alyson’s curt voice clipped, ‘Crime Division.’
    ‘Alyson?’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘It’s Andy.’ A pause, then, ‘Andy Gilchrist.’
    She gave a salacious chuckle and he fought off an image of her slipping off her stockings.
    ‘How many Randy Andys do you think I know, then?’
    Gilchrist tried to steer the conversation away from her favourite subject. ‘Listen, Alyson. I need a favour.’
    ‘Let me wish. A blow-job?’
    ‘Mobile telephone number.’
    ‘Any bitch I know?’
    ‘I’m trying to contact DS Nancy Wilson.’
    ‘That slut?’
    ‘Please, Alyson. I’m trying to get hold of Stan. His mobile’s off. Nancy’s with him.’
    ‘Well, seeing as how you’re so friendly,’ she said, ‘I’ve got it right here.’ She recited the number.
    Gilchrist assigned it to memory. ‘One other thing.’
    ‘I’m all ears.’
    He could not mistake the huffiness in her voice, but he had already tired of her banal innuendoes. ‘Would you happen to know where Sa is?’ he asked.
    ‘Meeting with Patterson.’
    ‘Just the two of them?’
    ‘I believe so.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘Eight-thirty.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Doesn’t matter. Sa’s just called to ask where he is.’
    ‘Patterson didn’t turn up?’
    ‘According to Sa.’
    ‘Do you know what the meeting was about?’
    ‘Something to do with the Stabber case. Other than that, I haven’t a clue, big boy.’
    Gilchrist’s mind crackled. Was Patterson simply running late? Or had something more sinister happened?
    ‘Alyson,’ he said, ‘can you reach Patterson right away? Make sure he’s okay.’
    ‘Don’t need to.’
    ‘What d’you mean?’
    ‘He’s just called, too. He says Sa never turned up.’
    What the hell was going on? ‘Is Patterson on his way back to the Office?’
    ‘Afraid not. He’s done for the day. He’s going home.’
    ‘Home?’
    ‘Yes, Andy. Home. You know. Where he lives. With his wife. She called. He’s to be back for nine.’
    ‘Thanks, Alyson.