Read The Barber Surgeon's Hairshirt (Barney Thomson series) for Free Online Page B

Christmas edition of Blitz! on her knee. A few seconds, then she glanced out the corner of her eye.
    ‘Sandwich, then?’
    ‘As long as you don’t think it’s a trade.’
    She handed him the turkey ham and lettuce, they steamed through the rain towards the Dunblane bypass. They thought their private thoughts. Vague feelings of disquiet at the outside possibility of coming up against the infamous Barber Surgeon. Would they each die a horrible death? Ferguson had told Proudfoot he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to identify her body if she’d been reduced to twenty packets of frozen meat. All charm.
    The visit to Henderson’s the barbers the previous day had been as unhelpful as their entire investigation threatened to be. Three barbers – James Henderson, Arnie Braithwaite and Chip Ripkin – none of whom had had any insight into the disappearance of Barney Thomson. They had plenty of opinions and handy hints on what to do to him should he ever be found – Henderson in particular having several innovative suggestions regarding Barney’s scrotum – but nothing that was actually of any help. They’d left after an hour, aware that there was nothing new to be gleaned about Barney Thomson in Glasgow. It was Inverness or nothing; and more likely, Inverness and nothing.
    Mulholland had considered stopping off in Perth to speak to the suspect’s brother, Allan. Had chosen to make a phone call instead, as he’d thought it might be a waste of time. Suspicions confirmed. Allan and Barbara Thomson had changed their surname, and it hadn’t been until Mulholland had threatened to arrive on his doorstep with the full weight of CID that Allan had even admitted knowing Barney. However, he’d had little to concede beyond that – and he had not been lying – and after fifteen minutes’ fruitless discussion, the brother had had to retire to share a bottle of £4.95 Chilean Chardonnay – fruity with a hint of lighter fluid – with his wife.
    ‘So, what does Blitz! have to say for itself, then? Usual stuff about how to have an orgasm with a staple gun?’
    Proudfoot licked some Irn Bru from her lips, turned back to the cover. He glanced over at the photo of the pale Bic, wearing midnight-maroon lipstick.
    ‘Not that far off,’ she said. ‘We’ve got, Jet Ski Sex – 1,001 Great Positions. Tantric Sex – Don’t Think About It, Just Do It! Cindy Crawford On Learning To Live With A Big Spot On Your Face. Ukranian Catalogue Hunks – The Best Thirty Quid You’ll Ever Spend .’
    ‘You’re making those up,’ said Mulholland.
    ‘Sadly no. Want to hear the rest?’
    ‘Might learn something.’
    ‘ Getting The Most From Your Dildo. How To Spot A Multiple Orgasm. Toothpaste Tube Masturbation – We Test All The Well-Known Brands. Johnny Depp’s Armpits – Hairy, Horny & Yours For A Fiver. Men And Sex – Why You Might be Better Off With A Doughnut . That’s just about it.’
    ‘A doughnut?’
    ‘I missed one. Why I’ve Had It With Men – Gretchen Schumacher Tells All .’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know, what d’you think of Gretchen? Just looks like a stick of rhubarb with nipples to me.’
    ‘A doughnut?’
    ‘All these supermodels are the same these days. The older ones with the boobs are all right, but these new ones. A bunch of wee lassies. Horrible. Most of them look ill.’
    She let out a long sigh, opened up the mag to the Johnny Depp article. Mulholland sat in the outside lane again, passing a stream of octogenarian Sunday drivers, defying convention by going out midweek.
    ‘A doughnut?’
    She ignored him. They drove on in silence.
    Time passed, rain fell, cars were overtaken, cars got in the way, cars sped by in the outside lane. For all that he concentrated on the road, or tried to think about his wife or the woman sitting next to him, Joel Mulholland could not help but think about Barney Thomson.
    What kind of monster would commit the crimes that he had committed? Could you call such a being a