Bridge of Doom (14 page)

Jack had arranged to meet Henry Dunn in the Southsider, a well-known Edinburgh watering hole, which is located in West Richmond Street almost a mile from Princes Street, in the student quarter. 

After doing the introductions, Jack asked, 'why are we meeting up here, Henry? It's not exactly the city centre, is it?' 

'True but, crucially, it is still possible to get parked around here. The beer's good, the food's not bad either and it's not full of posers and wankers. Apart from us, of course. So what’s not to like? Look, why don't you grab one of the empty booths over there, Annie, where we can all have a nice cosy chat in private, and I'll get the drinks organised. I'm having a pint of their delicious Belhaven Best Extra Cold, by the way. What can I get you?' 

'Sounds good, same for me,’ said Jack without hesitation.
 

Annie quickly put her hand on Jack's arm and cautioned, 'look boss, you know you're not supposed to be drinking alcohol while you're still on the meds.' 

Jack then uttered the fateful words, all too familiar to generations of concerned Scottish womenfolk. 'Come on, don't be daft, Annie. One little drink won't do me any harm.'  

One hour and three pints of Best later Henry asked, 'so, tell me Jack, as a true Glasgow man born and bred, what would you say is the definition of a good night out?' 

Pausing to take a long pull from his fourth pint, Jack replied, 'it's actually been quite a while since I had one. But, from what I can remember, I always know when I'm having a
really
good night when I accidently light the wrong end of my cigarette and don't even notice, until I come to stub it out.'

'Well I don't smoke,' said Henry with a toothy leer, 'but my test of a good night out is when I wake up the next morning and find that my pants are on back to front
and
inside out. Or, even better, if I discover I'm wearing someone else's pants.' 

'Just as a matter of interest, Henry, would that be men's or women's pants you're talking about?' asked Annie, smiling sweetly as she tried to edge further away from his wandering hand, along the cramped bench seat. 

'Ah yes, very good Annie. I do love a bit of banter. Jack … please, you must tell me where you found this wonderful creature? I've only just met her and I think I'm in love already.'
 

'I didn't find her. She found me, interviewed me and then moved into the office like a whirlwind and reorganised it, all within the space of a couple of hours. All kidding aside, I consider myself a very lucky man, Henry. I advertised for a temporary summer intern and ended up with the best partner I've ever had. Period.' 

Exasperated at the seemingly endless man banter, Annie interrupted, 'excuse me, I've just sat here and wasted an hour of my life that I'll never get back, listening to you two shoot the breeze. Are we ever going to get round to actually discussing the case we came to talk about?' 

'All in good time, Annie. This is called schmoozing, an essential step in lubricating the wheels of business. Am I right, Jack?'
 

'Absolutely, Henry' said Jack, as he raised his glass, with a sly boozy wink to Annie.  

Unconvinced, she announced, 'if you two want something to eat, I'll go and order it for you at the bar. Or are you just going to sit here talking bollocks and getting completely pissed?'

'To be fair, Annie, I thought that's what pubs are for,' said Henry cheerfully. 'By the way, the fish and chips in here is highly recommended.' 

'Sounds good to me,' said Jack.
 

As Annie left the table, Henry confided, 'I'm
very
impressed, Jack. When you told me that you'd recently taken on a new partner, I must admit I was expecting a big thick, ex-copper.' 

'Like me, you mean?'
 

'Sorry, that came out the wrong way. What I meant was, I thought it would be somebody you'd worked with on the force. You know, back in the day.' 

'No worries,' said Jack, draining the remains of his fourth pint with relish. As he signalled to Annie to get another round of drinks in along with the food order he said, 'anyway, Henry, tell me a bit more about this job you mentioned in your email.'
 

'Oh, I will, Jack. But first, did I tell you the news about a pair of Siamese twins from Glasgow, who have decided to write their life story? It's forecast to be one of the best-selling autobiographies of all time. It's called,
"Oor Wullie".
 

'The old ones are definitely the best,' said Jack, with a smile. 'Boom boom.' 

'Okay, I admit that one was crap,’ said Henry. ‘But I've got a better one for you, that you've maybe not heard before. An old granny from Govan was complaining about the high cost of living and explaining to younger family members how her old age pension simply didn't go far enough to cover all of her outgoings. You'll have to forgive my pathetic attempt at a Glasgow accent, as I lapse into character here, okay? 'When I was a wee lassie,' she said, 'ah remember that ah could go tae the shops with sixpence and come back with three loaves of bread, two dozen eggs, six rashers of bacon, four pints of milk, a packet of 20 Capstan Full Strength and six cans of McEwans Export for your grandad's breakfast.'

'Aye,' said her grandson, 'that's absolutely amazing gran. I suppose inflation’s the reason you can’t do it anymore.' 

Henry paused momentarily to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes before continuing, ‘granny shook her head sadly and said, 'it's got fuck all to do with inflation, son. It's because of all the bloody security cameras they have in the shops nowadays!'
 

Returning from the bar, Annie's heart sank as she was greeted with a gale of beery laughter from the booth where her two companions were seated. As she put down another two pints of Best down on the table, Henry was clearly just getting into his stride with the cheesy comedy routine. 'Just in time. I think you'll like this one, Annie. What do you call the Glasgow dwarf who slipped and fell into a cement mixer?' 

'Unlucky?' 

'No, don't be silly. He's a wee hard man. Geddit?' 

'Yes, I do
unfortunately
. But I won't be getting any more, thank you very much.' 

Lifting her courier bag, Annie stood up and fixed Jack with her feared death ray stare, which was accompanied by a stern warning, 'look, unlike the pair of you,
I'm
bored stiff
and
stone cold sober. So I'm going to leave you both to it and head off to the shops. That way today won't be a
complete
waste of time for me. I'll phone you when I'm finished and, if you still want a lift to Glasgow, I'll come back for you. But … pay attention now,
Mr
Davidson
, and read my lips. I'm not going to sit around waiting all day, while you get completely legless. So you better be ready, because the stage will be leaving sharp in two hours' time, with you or without you. Got it?'
 

'Yes, mam,' said Jack standing up and saluting with a big stupid grin on his face, which did not bode well for his prospects of getting a lift home.

'She's quite magnificent when she's angry, Jack,' said Henry admiringly, as Annie left the pub. 'I do love a woman with a bit of spirit about her.' 

'Oh, she's got plenty of
that
all right,' said Jack ruefully. 'She can be a complete pain in the arse, but she's usually right about most things.' 

'That's
so
annoying, don't you think?' 

'Absolutely.' 

'Ready for another pint of mother's milk, Jack?' 

'What harm could it do, Henry? Go for it. Oh, and get me a big bag of salted peanuts, will you? Just to help settle my stomach.'
 

An hour and a half later, Annie tried unsuccessfully to get Jack on his phone. After three failed attempts, she sent him a curt text message advising that she'd left for home and that the last Glasgow train would leave Waverley station at 00.30am. 

Jack Davidson, posted missing in action.

The next morning, just after half-past eight, when Annie arrived in the JD Investigations office, she was astonished to find her partner already at his desk. In body at least, if not in spirit. Unshaven, with crumpled clothes, hair tousled and ashen faced, Jack was slumped in his chair clinging desperately to a half-empty bottle of Irn-Bru, which is Glasgow's answer to penicillin.  However, there are limits to the restorative properties of Glasgow's favourite non-alcoholic beverage. Jack looked like death warmed up and certainly wasn't capable of doing any work, but at least he had made the effort to come in on time.  

Progress, thought Annie to herself. 'Morning boss, this is quite a surprise. I didn't think you'd surface for at least a couple of days after the Edinburgh trip.'
 

Raising his head with an effort, Jack managed a limp wave followed by a wan smile and croaked, 'I didn't have the nightmare last night, Annie. Okay, it wasn't the best night's sleep I've ever had and I had to get up once to be sick. But I didn't have that crazy dream at three o'clock and I didn't need to take any anti-anxiety meds. I actually managed to sleep till seven o'clock this morning, for the first time in weeks. You've no idea how good that felt.’

‘I’m very happy for you.’

‘And you were absolutely right, I needed to get out of my flat and stop brooding about what happened with Thomas Burke. So going on a jolly to Edinburgh and having a complete change of scene, combined with a few pints and some serious man talk with old Henry, seems to have done the trick.' 

'It looks to me like you had a
lot
more than a few pints.'
 

'Yeah, maybe. Although I think it was when Henry got us involved in a
Jagerbomb
shot drinking challenge, against a fierce-looking women's rugby team,
that’s
when things really started to go downhill. Believe me, some of those big women can really drink.' 

Shaking her head in disapproval, Annie said, 'I tried to phone you just before I left Edinburgh to head back home, but you didn't answer.'
 

'Well, to be fair, it was a bit noisy in the karaoke bar. Henry actually does a surprisingly good version of
"River Deep Mountain High,"
by the way, and he's got all of Tina Turner's best moves off pat. I think he must practice for hours in front of a mirror at home, which is kind of worrying when you think about it.' 

'I'm sorry I missed that. So did you get the train home after that?' 

'No, after I hit the fresh air, outside the karaoke place, things definitely went a bit hazy. But I do remember Henry somehow managed to get hold of a cab and then he took me somewhere else. Yeah, it's slowly coming back to me now. I remember there was a young dame, wearing a really skimpy outfit, who kept sliding up and down a pole.'
 

'Oh for God’s sake, don't tell me the two of you went to a lap-dancing club?' spluttered Annie in disgust. 'I don't believe it, what a pair of sad old perverts.' 

'Actually, to be fair, I don't think it was a lap-dancing club, Annie. I'm not a hundred per cent sure, but I think it was probably the stop where the last night bus leaves Edinburgh city centre. The dame who was sliding up and down, could hardly stand and she was actually trying her best just to hang on to the bus stop pole. I reckon she was even more pissed than me, which is really saying something. Thankfully, the bus driver was a total star and he woke me up at Glasgow bus station and then phoned for a taxi. God, what a night.'
 

Shaking her head again, Annie said, 'anyway you look as if you've been shot out of a cannon backwards. I've got some paracetamol tablets here in my desk somewhere, if you want them.
Or,
I could nip out and get you something to eat, if that would help to settle your stomach.' With a wicked grin she continued, 'so how about one of your breakfast favourites, one of those nice big hot mince pies on a white roll? Just imagine the smell and all that lovely hot grease running down your chin, when you take the first bite. You know what they say about a really bad hangover, boss? Kill or cure.' 

Jack's stomach immediately lurched violently in protest at the very thought of food and he knocked his chair over in a rush to reach the toilet, for a prolonged and noisy dry heave.
 

Five minutes later he re-emerged looking even paler than before. However, if he was expecting sympathy, he found that it was in extremely short supply. 

'So, tell me, in between umpteen pints of beer, the karaoke bar and the
Jagerbomb
challenge with the women's rugby team, did you actually manage to find out from Henry what this Edinburgh job is all about? When I left you in the Southsider, it had hardly been mentioned. I mean that
was
the purpose of the trip after all.' 

'Funny you should say that. I did ask him at one point to put a bit of meat on the bone, in terms of details about the job, but all I can remember is that it's something to do with a big property deal that’s going badly wrong. The bloke Henry works for is the brains behind the deal, but Henry seems to think he’s becoming totally paranoid and almost on the verge of a nervous breakdown.’

‘It sounds like the poor man needs a good psychiatrist instead of us.’

I know, Annie, it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but extra security in the guy’s house seems to be what’s wanted. So that’s where we come in. Basically, I think our role is just to babysit Henry’s boss.’

'That doesn't sound too difficult, on the face of it. So why on earth do they need to bring in private detectives from outside Edinburgh to do the job?' 

'Good question, Annie. I don't know the answer, but Henry said he would email me full details so we can give it the once over, before we commit to anything.' 

'And was the delicate subject of money mentioned at any stage of your schmoozing with Henry?'
 

'Yes, that was mentioned. He quoted a fee of £1500 a day, plus expenses. With no time limit on the job, but a minimum of at least ten day's work for us. So, pretty good money.' 

'What did you say?' 

'I played it cool and said I would think about it and discuss it with my wonderful new partner.' 

'I'm not sure,' said Annie. 'Don't you think there's something not quite right about this?'
 

'What do you mean?' 

'Well, I just think it all sounds too good to be true. The client is, apparently, allowing Henry to pay well over the odds and sub-contract the work to us, instead of a local firm. Why would he do that? And then he dragged both of us through to Edinburgh and didn't bother to properly explain what's going on.' 

'Lighten up, Annie, will you. It's just a routine bit of work. We do it, get well paid and then scuttle back to Glasgow with a big cheque. Everything in the world doesn't always need to make perfect sense.'
 

'Well, just for the record, I don't like
anything
about your pal, Hooray Henry. He's a smart arse and his snobby, sexist jokes are crude and completely unfunny. In fact, he's so bad, he makes
you
look quite the Renaissance man.'

'Cheers for that, Annie. But it's not as if he's a complete stranger. I've worked with him before, remember. He played it straight down the line with me every time and then paid our agreed fee promptly at the end of each job. So I really don't see what the problem is. He's just a little eccentric and likes to mix business with a bit of pleasure. Works for me.' 

'I'm just saying,' said Annie, still unconvinced. 'Look, I know things have been quiet workwise recently, while you were off recuperating, and we can certainly do with the money. But still.' 

'I trust your instincts, Annie, I really do. Tell you what, let's wait till he sends us the full brief before we decide one way or another. Is that a deal, partner?' 

'Okay, deal.'