Tooth for a Tooth (Di Gilchrist 3)

years, Megs still held a grudge. The atmosphere in the flat must have been like touchpaper looking for a light.
    ‘So the Mediterranean beer outing was the end of Lorena’s relationship with Dougie and the start of yours?’
    Megs grimaced. ‘A beer outing it was, that’s for sure. But yes, Dougie and I, how should I say it, consummated our relationship during that short week.’
    Gilchrist thought he saw Lorena’s dilemma. First, her Johnnie was lost to Megs, then her Dougie. So how did that explain Megs’ hatred? Should it not have been the other way around? ‘You and Dougie didn’t last long, did you?’
    ‘Not that time.’
    ‘Lorena persuaded Dougie to stay with her?’
    Megs frowned, and a hint of anger flitted behind her eyes. ‘What is it about men?’ she grumbled. ‘Spread your legs and they’re like putty in your hands. Drooling all over you until they get what they want. If it wasn’t so pathetic it’d be funny.’
    ‘So, it’s safe to say that you and Dougie split up not long after Costa del Beer?’
    ‘Very safe.’
    ‘For how long?’
    She shrugged. ‘Can’t really remember. Months, I suppose.’
    ‘When did he give you the scarf?’
    ‘My birthday,’ she said, without missing a beat.
    ‘Which was . . . ?’
    ‘Beginning of March.’
    ‘Before you moved into the flat on College Street?’
    ‘Just after.’
    He thought it amazing how memories could improve. ‘And
Pride and Prejudice?’
    ‘The same, I think.’
    Gilchrist tried to work through the logic. Johnnie, Brian and now Dougie. Each one of them might have had some personal reason to kill Kelly, but what that reason was he could not say for certain. Jealousy? Rejection? Rape? But if he pushed his thoughts beyond the actual murder itself, and fast-forwarded to the disposal of the body, he found he could think of only one name.
    He needed help. But with Tosh on the rampage, he would have to call in for it.
    He powered up his mobile and noticed he had three messages, the first over an hour ago. He listened to Tosh’s breathless voice tell him, ‘I’m going to have you for this, Gilchrist. You’re in deep fucking shite now.’
    Gilchrist worked out the time, figured that must have been Tosh on the run, the call made as he was chasing him along the communal path. The second was from Tosh again, this time in control of his breathing.
    ‘I know you’re going to listen to these messages some time, Gilchrist, and when you do, I want you to know that I now have a warrant for your arrest. So my advice to you, old son, is to do the right thing and turn yourself in.’
    The third was Tosh again. Did he have nothing better to do than leave voicemail?
    ‘Got some good news I thought I should share with you. You’re going to be on the telly tonight, Gilchrist. The evening news.’ Then a voice close to the speaker. ‘You really are fucked this time.’
    Gilchrist deleted Tosh’s messages and powered down his phone.
    ‘Got some problem with my mobile,’ he lied. ‘Do you mind if I use your phone?’
    ‘If you want some privacy, use the one in the bedroom. And I’ll not come in.’ She waved him off with a flap of her hand. ‘Go on with you. I’m only joking.’
    In the bedroom, Gilchrist closed the door. He dialled 141 to shield Megs’ number from caller ID, then got through on the first ring.
    ‘Stan. It’s me. Don’t hang up.’
    ‘Boss?’ A pause, then a breathy rush. ‘For crying out loud, boss, what’s got into you? This is serious. Even McVicar’s calling for your blood. And as for that prick, Tosh, he’s prancing about like he’s been awarded a knighthood.’
    ‘Nance told me Johnnie Walker committed suicide. How did he die?’
    ‘Drugs overdose.’
    Somehow, from the images he had seen of Walker, that did not surprise him. ‘I need you to do something else for me, Stan.’
    ‘No chance. I can’t do it, boss. This is all the way to the top. I can’t afford to lose my job over this—’
    ‘I need you to find Lorena Cordoba for me, Stan. She flew to Mexico that Christmas. I need you to find out who was on the flight with her.’
    ‘I’m sorry, boss.’ The line went dead.
    Shit
. This was worse than serious. Stan was his fallback, someone he could rely on when everything was against him. He dialled Nance on her mobile. Busy. He tried again. Still busy. On the third attempt, she picked up.
    ‘Stan told me you’d call,’ she said. ‘You’ve really done it this time, Andy. I don’t know