Tooth for a Tooth (Di Gilchrist 3)

and the ride in the lift was done in silence. Tosh beeped his remote and the boot clicked open. He threw in Gilchrist’s suitcase, while Nance folded the driver’s seat forward to let Gilchrist take his seat in the back.
    He turned his back to her. ‘Do you mind taking these off?’ he said.
    Silent, she obliged, then stood back as he leaned forward and squeezed into the car. Tosh jumped into the passenger seat, while Nance sat behind the wheel. Alone in the back, Gilchrist laid his computer case on his knees and placed both arms over it.
    ‘What’s in there? The Crown jewels?’ Tosh quipped, clicking in his seatbelt.
    ‘You’re a laugh a minute these days,’ Gilchrist said. ‘Practising for stand-up?’
    ‘Not like you, eh?’ Tosh caught Nance’s snapped glance, but it did little to stop him. ‘So how was Kelly’s old dear?’
    ‘If you’re trying to impress me with your skills of detection, Tosh, forget it.’
    ‘Not at all. I was thinking maybe you’d given her one. Nice tits on her, like Kelly, had she?’
    ‘Give it up, Tosh.’ Nance that time.
    From the look on Nance’s face, Gilchrist was not alone in his misery. Or maybe she was not getting much sleep around John. But having now gone through Annie’s collection of Kelly’s photographs, Gilchrist saw that Dr Black’s computer image had done little justice to Kelly, more like a wax dummy than a vibrant young woman with the eyes and voice and an inner energy that thrummed with the promise of life yet to be lived. For Tosh to talk of Kelly in those terms he must have found photographs of her, and Gilchrist made another mental note to be more wary of the man.
    ‘What made your brother snap, Gilchrist? Eh? I bet you’ve been thinking about it, haven’t you? High-flying detective all these years and here you are, nothing but a murderer’s brother. Makes you think, doesn’t it?’
    Nance stabbed the ignition key into the switch and gave a hard twist. The engine revved and the car jerked forward.
    ‘No comment?’ Tosh said. ‘Is that you getting in some practice for the cameras?’
    ‘Give it up, Tosh, will you?’ Nance again. ‘You’re giving me a headache.’
    Tosh shifted his gaze from Nance to Gilchrist then, as if seeing in Nance’s comments the first glimmer of some other possibility, gave the tiniest nod of understanding. And in that instant, Gilchrist promised, for Nance rather than for himself, that if Tosh even so much as hinted at their past sexual relationship, he would have him.
    He stared out the side window as a surge of anger threatened to fire up his muscles. He tightened his grip on his computer case as Nance powered the car down the spiral exit ramp. Kelly’s photographs and letters and old Donnie’s records were in his case, on his lap. He could hand everything over to Greaves, explain his theory, ask him to carry out a DNA analysis on the stamps. But without Johnnie Walker or Lorena Cordoba, what would that prove? That someone other than Kelly licked the stamps? Weak as water did not even come close. He was clutching at straws, maybe even inventing them. He needed more time to fight his corner. He needed to come up with more evidence, something, anything. Without that, Jack would be proven a killer and Gilchrist would be found guilty of withholding evidence to protect his brother’s name, then convicted.
    Of that he was certain.
    A cold sweat tickled the back of his neck. No matter how he looked at it, he was in serious trouble. He could not let himself be taken to the office in North Street. But seated in the back of a car, with no means of exit other than the front passenger or driver door, what could he do? Even if he did manage to escape, resisting arrest would not profit his case. But what choice did he have? Fight from behind bars? Leave it to his solicitor to—
    ‘Did Jack tell you what it was like to shag an American?’ Tosh had turned in his seat and was looking at Gilchrist with grim interest. ‘Was that little blonde pussy of hers tattooed with stars and stripes?’
    Gilchrist returned Tosh’s stare, thought he caught Nance give a supportive glare.
    ‘She was murdered,’ Gilchrist snarled. ‘Is this how you talk about all murder victims?’
    ‘Oh, she was murdered all right.’ Tosh gripped the back of his seat, pulled himself closer to Gilchrist. ‘By
your
brother. And you removed vital evidence to protect his name, and in doing so, tried to protect your own. The brother of a murderer?