Driftnet Read online

  The change in the weather made her restless. The park below was full of students lounging on the grass in the sunshine, playing music or studying for the year end exams. It made her want to go back to when your only worry was where the next meal was coming from and whether the fifty per cent of the work you’d revised would appear in the exam paper.

  Neil had phoned that morning. He hadn’t spent all her money yet, he told her, and he had found out a wee bit about her problem. She laughed because she couldn’t believe the money wasn’t all gone and because she was nervous talking to him. His voice sounded younger on the phone and he had put on a posh accent and missed out the swear words. He asked her if she would meet him in the park when she got off for lunch.

  Chrissy looked at the clock. It was already one o’clock and she hadn’t got much done that morning, even less than Tony who was already away lunching with a waitress from Amigos. He was taking this Mexican thing seriously.

  Chrissy told reception she was going out and would be back in an hour.

  Neil was waiting for her, sitting on a bench at the bandstand. He waved two paper pokes with a Mackays the Bakers logo on the side.

  ‘Scotch pies and doughnuts,’ he said grinning.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘And…’ he produced the bottle from his pocket. ‘Vodka and orange. Fresh orange, mind. None of that diluting stuff,’ and he laughed.

  His skin was brown, his eyes dark blue with black lashes. It wasn’t surprising the old guys fancied him. Anyone would fancy him.

  He munched his way through his pie, handing Chrissy the bottle now and again after wiping it on his sleeve. He had on a white tee-shirt and she could see his neck had healed.

  ‘I’ve been away for a couple of days,’ he said. ‘A geezer with a holiday home in the middle of nowhere.’ A bleak look crossed his face. ‘Not that I got a chance to view the scenery.’

  Chrissy said nothing.

  ‘Here.’ He took some money out of his pocket and handed it to her. ‘This is yours.’

  ‘Did you find out who sent the letter?’

  ‘Aye.’ He’d started on the doughnut now and it seemed to make him thirstier than the pie. ‘It’s fixed.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Your brother picked up a guy who recognised him. He thought Patrick was an easy way to get his dope money. Patrick told him to get lost so he thought he’d try blackmail.’ His face hardened. ‘I changed his mind for him.’

  Relief swept over her. ‘Thanks, Neil.’

  ‘Right.’

  He looked at her and she suddenly wondered what it would be like if he kissed her.

  He caught her eye and stopped eating. ‘Are you sure about that shag?’ he asked.

  ‘Neil…’

  ‘Aye, right,’ he smiled again and stood up. ‘I’d better get back to work then.’

  ‘I was going to the cinema tonight,’ she found herself saying.

  ‘With your mates?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Look Chrissy.’ He sat down again. ‘Why don’t we just cut the crap. I’ll meet you after work, we’ll go to my place, have a drink, go to bed and then go to the pictures, with maybe a curry in between?’

  ‘Alright,’ she said.

  He didn’t look surprised.

  ‘No Hail Marys?’

  ‘No Hail Marys,’ she agreed.

  He shut the curtains but daylight still seeped through, bathing the room in lazy light. The bed sheets were white and when he threw back the covers the whiteness leapt up at her.

  ‘I changed the bed,’ he said, reading her face.

  Chrissy looked at the bed, then at him.

  ‘Too risky, eh?’ His voice was without accusation.

  Chrissy ran the risks over in her mind like a good scientific officer, then dismissed them.

  ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’she said.

  He took off his clothes and stood naked while he undressed her. His body was boyish, waist and hips narrow, chest smooth. She felt embarrassed to touch him so she tried to make it into a joke by telling him she hadn’t been to bed with anyone since she gave up for Lent a year before.

  ‘Then I’ll have to make it worth your while,’ he murmured.

  He found her mouth and touched it lightly, then slid slowly down circling her breasts, pulling at her nipples, down down to breathe softly against the springy hair until her body rose towards him. Then he lifted her legs and lay between them and his tongue began to explore her. When she called out in pleasure, he pulled himself up beside her.

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘Better than okay.’

  He reached under the pillow and pulled out a condom, tearing the packet open with his teeth.

  He slipped inside and rocked her like a baby until she cried, the tears running saltily down her cheeks and into her mouth.

  ‘You were right to wait for me,’ he said as he wiped the tears away with his thumb. ‘I wasn’t this good in second year,’ and she laughed and cried at the same time.

  Afterwards he propped the pillows up and they sat side by side watching the breeze teasing the curtain’s edge into fluttering motion. Chrissy felt happy. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

  ‘My toes are tingling,’ she said.

  ‘I get to the parts other guys can’t reach.’

  She elbowed him jokingly in the ribs and he made a show of rolling off the bed in agony before padding over to the bathroom. Chrissy folded her hands on her belly and didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  Chrissy had first opened her legs, as her mother put it, when she was eighteen. It had been a great disappointment. It had been after a dance at the Catholic Social Club with some random guy. Chrissy was fed up saving herself for some future husband. Virginity had lost its currency, however Father Riley whinnied on about hell. From what her friends told her, Father Riley was heading there himself.

  ‘Stop it.’ Neil was peeking round the bathroom door at her, dripping all over the floor.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Thinking.’

  He sounded like her mother.

  ‘Come on,’ he shouted, heading back into the shower, ‘I’ll give your back a scrub.’

  They stood together, the water parting above their heads and running down their backs. He put his nose to hers and she could see the water on his eyelashes.

  ‘I’m starving,’ he said, ‘are you ready for that curry or do you fancy another go?’

  ‘You or a poppadom you mean?’ she said.

  He caught her eye and bent to lift her nipple into his mouth.

  Chapter 15

  The flickering computer screen was the only light in the room. Gavin was absorbed in responding to line after line of commands, none of which meant a thing to Rhona.

  ‘You really like this sort of thing, don’t you?’ she said.

  ‘Sad. Isn’t it?’ He pulled a face.

  ‘It’s not that different from what I do. Find clues and want to know what they mean.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it is.’

  Rhona had broached the subject of making a computer search during their second meal together. When Gavin had asked her out again she had agreed, ignoring the internal voice telling her that finding Liam wasn’t her only motive for accepting.

  ‘Maybe we can get to the sweet, this time,’ he said. ‘The ice cream’s great.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Only joking.’

  She had been deliberately vague when she raised the subject, between mouthfuls of blueberry sorbet. If she gave him some information, might he be able to trace someone’s current whereabouts?

  Gavin transferred his attention from his chocolate chip and banana.

  ‘That depends.’

  Her face fell.

  ‘I mean, it depends onwhat you have to go on and how long you’re prepared to search.’

  ‘A name, a date of birth and place of birth. Would that be enough?’

  ‘Might be. Depends how old the person is. If they’re paying tax…’

&
nbsp; ‘No. This person might not be paying tax.’ She was embarrassed. ‘Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Gavin tactfully ignored her evident discomfort. He was interested. ‘Parents paying tax?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘If you think this person…’

  ‘It’s a boy.’

  ‘If you think this boy still lives at home, then we might be able to find him through his parents.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Is there anything that might make him special? Something that would be documented somewhere?’

  ‘Yes. Yes there is.’

  Gavin was explaining how, after they met in the taxi, he’d spent an hour tracking her contact details down on his PC.

  ‘You’re on a police file. Did you know that?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘You must have been vetted when you got your job.’

  ‘Yes,’ she remembered. She’d had to sign some sort of form when she accepted the post at the lab.

  ‘I could have looked at the contents of your bank account if I’d wanted, but I didn’t.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Only joking. Besides I don’t chase women for their money, only for their brains.’

  Rhona told him that that was just as well.

  ‘So what have you got?’ he said.

  Rhona handed him the piece of paper with Liam’s date of birth, place of birth and his adopted name.

  ‘This could take a while.’

  ‘That’s okay.’

  ‘You want to do the whole thing tonight?’

  She realised he had hoped to spend at least part of the evening on other things.

  ‘I’m sorry. If it’s a lot of trouble…’

  He would either do it because he was nice, or because he wanted to have sex with her.

  ‘Okay,’ he said and touched her arm. ‘But you might as well go home. I’ll let you know if I find out anything.’

  ‘I’d rather stay,’ she said.

  She watched for a while, her chair close to his. At first he explained everything he was doing. He started with the main tax centre in East Kilbride to see if he could find a reference to the adoptive parents in the tax records. When she looked askance, he told her he had clearance because he did cyber sleuth work for the police.

  ‘I don’t want you to get into trouble.’

  He grinned. ‘You won’t. I’m good at this, remember?’

  As he became more absorbed, he gave up explaining what he was accessing and cross referencing and Rhona drifted off into a light doze. Gavin must have got her to the couch, because she woke up there later, feeling very disorientated.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said guiltily.

  ‘Never mind. Come and see what I’ve found.’

  James and Elizabeth Hope had registered the adoption of a child one month after the nurse had removed Liam from Rhona’s arms. The baby had been named Christopher Liam Hope. Edward was right. Liam had no connection with the murdered student.

  Gavin was struggling to smother a yawn and Rhona suddenly realised how tired he must be.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, standing up.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For making you stay up half the night.’

  ‘Is this what you wanted to know?’

  She nodded gratefully, ‘Thanks.’

  He met her eyes speculatively.

  ‘I’ll get you a printout.’

  There was an awkward moment while they waited for a taxi to arrive.

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you write down what you need then tear up the printout,’ Gavin looked slightly embarrassed.

  ‘Of course.’

  At the front door, Gavin kissed her lightly on the cheek. For a moment Rhona wished she wasn’t going home. Then the moment passed. She thanked him and climbed inside the cab. Gavin’s warm hand slipped from hers, the door was shut and she was alone.

  Travelling through the dark and silent city, Rhona thought how quickly Edward had come up with the evidence she’d asked for. When she’d asked how, he’d brushed her off. He was a lawyer. Dealing in legal documents was his business. His voice had been firm but Rhona had detected an underlying note of alarm. She had rattled Edward and he wanted her off his back, fast.

  The sky was streaked with dawn as she climbed the stairs to her flat. Her awol week was nearly over. She would have to go back to work on Monday, and she would have to admit she hadn’t been in France. Turning the key in the lock, Rhona wished Sean was asleep in the big bed and she could climb in and wrap herself round him.

  In the gloom of the hall the dot of green light flashed from the phone but she didn’t touch the play button. There was already too much to think about. Any messages could wait till morning. There had been a lull of three days since she’d heard from Sean and she wondered if he’d given up on her. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to call him. She had to straighten her head out. And she couldn’t do that until she traced her son.

  Rhona locked the front door and went through to the empty bedroom. Chrissy’s message, delivered in a high-pitched frightened voice, was left unheard.

  Chapter 16

  Chrissy peered along the road, praying another taxi would appear over the hill, this time with the orange light on. Two had swept past her in the last fifteen minutes. After the second disappointment she was so agitated she began to walk. Her brain was in overdrive, going over the same ground again and again. She couldn’t help it. She kept telling herself it didn’t make any difference. She should have told someone about the welts on Neil’s neck earlier. Rhona, the police, anyone. But she hadn’t. And now it was too late.

  She spotted a black shadow in the distance and waved wildly. The taxi disappeared down a dip in the road and when it reappeared fifty yards away, the ‘for hire’ light was off. Chrissy swore in desperation, convinced it was headed for a phone booking. She was wrong. The taxi drew in and Chrissy said a silent thank you, threw in her bag and climbed in.

  ‘Where to hen?’

  It was eight hours since Neil had phoned. He had told her not to go near the flat before midnight. ‘You might meet one of the customers,’ he said. ‘Get a taxi as far as the pedestrian precinct, then walk the rest. If anyone bothers you, tell them to fuck off, but don’t go up the close if anyone’s hanging about. And check for cars. Okay?’

  She had listened in silence, her mind turning somersaults because he sounded so scared. That made her scared, too.

  ‘Chrissy?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon. And remember, just sound normal, right?’

  ‘Right.’

  She tried. She left work (ignoring Tony’s quizzical look), went home, had her tea and said she was going camping for the weekend.

  ‘That’s new,’ her mother said, giving her a hard look.

  Thank God her father and brothers weren’t there. It was Friday and they were out on the bevy, as per usual.

  She left the house at nine and went round to a friend’s house until eleven. Claire was curious about the bag, but Chrissy told her the same story. She was going camping with some mates from work but they couldn’t leave until late. She was beginning to believe it herself.

  ‘But how will you manage to put a tent up in the dark?’

  ‘Oh, there’s folk up there already,’ she lied.

  After she left for Neil’s, she took it into her head to phone Rhona’s flat, whatever Neil had said. It wasn’t any use. Rhona wasn’t back yet.

  When Chrissy asked the taxi driver to stop, he looked concerned as he took the fare.

  ‘It’s gey late to be walking round here hen. Will you be alright on your own?’

  She paid him his fare making a stupid joke about wandering round the red light district of Glasgow in the early hours of the morning.

  ‘You and half of Glasgow, hen,’ he replied with a snort.

  Neil’s street was empty. Chrissy walked past the close entrance as far as the first side road, just as Neil had told her. She relaxed a
bit and started to walk slowly back. The big expensive engine was so quiet, the car was beside her before she heard it.

  ‘Hey lady. You looking for me?’

  She was one door away from Neil’s close. She swithered. To walk on past might mean this car following her or…

  ‘Come on doll. Help me out.’

  The driver pointed to his bulging crotch.

  She shook her head and turned in at the close entrance.

  ‘Bitch.’ He spat after her.

  At least the light had been fixed. Chrissy quickly climbed the stair hoping the guy in the car wouldn’t take it into his head to follow her. Two filled condoms lay in the corner of Neil’s landing. This was a regular venue for someone, maybe the woman he was looking for.

  Chrissy reached up and swept her fingers along the ledge and found the key, where Neil had said it would be. It turned easily in the lock. As she pushed the door open Chrissy heard the click of stilettos in the close and a high pitched giggle of anticipation. The Audi had struck it lucky.

  She quickly locked the door behind her. The package of photographs lay on the mat. She picked it up and shoved it in her pocket.

  The windows were tightly closed and the flat was stuffy. Chrissy went straight to the chest of drawers and threw some of Neil’s clothes in the bag she’d brought, then went into the kitchen. The bottle of vodka was under the sink and the money was where he’d said, in the brillo pad box. She shoved the vodka in the bag and the money in her pocket with the photos and headed out.

  The panting skirmish on the landing had begun. The woman was against the wall. She caught Chrissy’s eye and started to grunt and moan more energetically to hold the customer’s attention and cover Chrissy’s departure.

  Outside the close, Chrissy passed the black car waiting for its driver’s return.

  Chapter 17

  Edward gave Fiona’s hand a squeeze and leaned back against the soft black leather of Sir James Dalrymple’s Rolls Royce. Fiona returned the pressure, turning from the view of the rolling Perthshire hills to give Edward a smile.