Tooth for a Tooth (Di Gilchrist 3)

of a cowering prostitute on a rain-soaked street flashed into his mind, and he felt a surge of regret at not having followed up to the hilt all those years ago.
    They reached another junction, and Gilchrist gave directions. He glanced at Megs, saw she had paled. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
    ‘It’s about Kelly, isn’t it?’ she said, and looked at him.
    ‘Eyes on the road, please.’
    ‘I never thought that of you, Andy, that you would harm a woman.’
    Gilchrist understood her dilemma. In her eyes she was helping a murderer escape the law. What else was she supposed to think?
    ‘When they question you,’ he said, ‘just tell them that I asked you to give me a lift, and that you had no idea I was on the run.’
    ‘You killed her, didn’t you?’
    ‘No, Megs. I didn’t kill her. But they’ve found evidence that links Jack to her.’
    ‘So why are you on the run?’
    Gilchrist smiled at the logic of that question. ‘It’s personal,’ he said. ‘Someone doesn’t like me and is out to get me.’
    ‘Why?’
    She’s a fucking hoor, is what she is
.
    Gilchrist shrugged. ‘Who knows,’ he said.
    They drove on in relative silence, Gilchrist giving directions, Megs obeying without a word. They turned into Cupar’s main thoroughfare, and Gilchrist directed her through the backstreets. Five minutes later, they pulled into a small office complex and parked at Gilchrist’s instruction.
    ‘Thanks for the lift,’ he said to her.
    ‘I’m not stupid, you know.’
    ‘I didn’t say you were.’
    ‘There’s only one reason you’re here,’ she said, and nodded to the square building.
    ‘I’m only going to ask some questions,’ Gilchrist said.
    He slipped from her car and walked towards the surgery.

CHAPTER 29
     
    The waiting room murmured with the subdued stirrings of a seated group.
    Someone coughed. Behind Gilchrist, a door clicked shut. He was instructed to take a seat and told he would have to wait at least forty minutes. Dr Ewart had appointments through to midday. Gilchrist did as ordered, but kept his eyes on a board that displayed four names, each with a small light beside them. All glowed red.
    He did not have long to wait until the light next to Dr Ewart’s name turned to green. He marched down a short hall to Ewart’s office, gave a hard rap and entered.
    Ewart looked up from his desk, down at his files, then gave a twisted smile. ‘You don’t look like Mrs Forrester.’
    A small voice from behind Gilchrist said, ‘I’m sorry, Doctor. I couldn’t stop him.’
    ‘That’s all right, Annette. Inspector Gilchrist won’t be staying long. Will you?’
    ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Gilchrist agreed. He waited until the door closed behind him, then pressed his back against it. They would not be disturbed so readily next time. ‘I have a bit of a problem,’ Gilchrist began. ‘It seems that the case I’m working on has turned a bit too personal.’
    ‘I don’t understand.’
    ‘I’d like to ask you a few questions.’
    ‘Sit down, sit down. Take a seat.’
    ‘I’d rather stand.’
    ‘Well in that case, I’ll join you.’ Ewart pushed his chair back and walked around his desk. He was a good three inches shorter than Gilchrist, but seemed to prefer that to being seated. Gilchrist thought the polished, dark-brown brogues and tartan trousers with inch-high turn-ups were a bit over the top, even for a Highland doctor. But Ewart had never been renowned for his sartorial wisdom.
    ‘How long did you go out with Lorena?’ Gilchrist asked him.
    Ewart frowned. ‘Who?’
    ‘Lorena Cordoba. And don’t even think about denying you know her, Dougie. I’ve got photographs.’
    ‘Photographs?’ Ewart paused as if some thought had just struck him. ‘Lorena,’ he said with some emphasis. ‘Cordoba? From way back when? That Lorena?’
    ‘Were there any other Lorenas?’
    ‘I didn’t go out with her at all, as best I can recall.’
    ‘Not even for a few days?’
    Ewart pressed his lips together, shook his head.
    ‘Not go on holiday with her?’
    ‘No.’
    That was the first lie, Gilchrist thought. ‘Ever been to Spain?’ he asked.
    ‘Once,’ he said, too quickly, as if Gilchrist was asking questions to which Ewart was primed for the answers. ‘And no, Lorena wasn’t with us.’
    ‘Us?’
    ‘Me, Brian and Johnnie.’
    ‘Brian Fletcher and Johnnie Walker?’
    Ewart nodded. ‘What’s this all about?’ he asked. ‘Has she been murdered?’
    Right question. Wrong