Read Tooth for a Tooth (Di Gilchrist 3) for Free Online Page A

he would have to go with what he had.
    ‘Did you find anything on the cigarette lighter?’ he asked.
    Mackie shook his head. ‘One of those lighters you used to buy for ten a penny at Woolies.’
    ‘What about the markings?’
    ‘Inconclusive. Rusted to buggery. The scratches don’t spell out the name of the killer, if that’s what you’re asking.’ Mackie slid the ankle bone back into place, then brushed a finger over the healed fracture as if trying to determine how painful it must have been.
    Something in that action had Gilchrist wondering if it was ever too late to change careers. Rather than experience hardening him, Gilchrist found he had developed a weak stomach for the sights and smells of the mortuary. The memory of one recent postmortem was still fresh in his mind. He had been at a fiftieth the night before and consumed too many beers, as usual. The following morning, pale and heavy-stomached, he faced the decomposing body of a woman recovered from the River Eden and missing for ten days. When Mackie slapped her brain on to the scales with a splashy flourish, it was too much for Gilchrist. He had turned, too late, and vomited as he staggered away.
    Relief surged through him when his mobile rang, then sank when he recognized Mo’s number. He tried to keep his voice light. ‘Hi, Mo.’
    ‘Why didn’t you come back to the clubhouse? Everyone was expecting you.’
    ‘Everyone?’ he said, pushing through the door. ‘I didn’t know anyone.’
    ‘It’s not like you’d have had to have a political debate or anything.’
    He resisted reciting his usual excuse of being too busy. ‘I know, Mo. I’m sorry.’
    ‘If you ever gave Harry a chance, Dad, you’d like him. I know you would.’
    Gilchrist burst into early-afternoon sunlight, the sky bright through a narrow clearing of clouds. Harry’s name being spoken by his daughter still fired some primitive instinct through his system. Gail had left him for Harry, had taken their children with her. Why would Maureen think he would ever give Harry a chance? He tried to keep his voice level. ‘I’ll make a point of talking to him next time we meet.’
    ‘Don’t give me lip service, Dad. I don’t like it.’
    ‘I’m not, Mo, I’m—’
    ‘Mum and Harry were married for seven years, Dad. They were happy together. Did you ever think about that?’
    All the time
, he thought. ‘I know Harry was good for Mum,’ he said. ‘He’s going to miss her. We all are.’ He opened his car door, sat behind the wheel, pleased that his words appeared to have quietened her. He tried to shift the subject by asking, ‘How are you and Jack holding up?’
    A sniff, then, ‘OK. How about you?’
    ‘Hanging in there.’ He stabbed the key into the ignition, gave a twist and the engine fired into life. ‘Thinking back on the good times,’ he went on. ‘When you both were little.’
    When Maureen next spoke, her voice was as tight as a child’s. ‘Mum tried to put a face on it, Dad. But she was so ill. It was awful. Just watching her. There was nothing we could do.’
    Nothing we could do
. He remembered intending to call last week, then deciding against it. What could he have done? In the end they had all felt helpless.
    ‘When did you last see Mum?’ he asked.
    ‘The Sunday before . . .’ Her breath brushed the mouthpiece.
    ‘Was she asleep when she died?’ Why did he have to know the details?
    ‘Mum slipped away,’ she said. ‘It was peaceful at the end.’
    He caught an image of Gail glaring at him through eyes sunk deep in a skeletal face.
    ‘Will you speak to Harry?’ she said.
    Her question surprised him. ‘I don’t see the need.’
    ‘Not even to convey your condolences?’
    ‘We shook hands at the crematorium—’
    ‘Barely, Dad. That doesn’t count. You almost ran out of the place.’
    The speed with which Maureen’s emotions shifted never failed to amaze him. It was like listening to Gail all over again. On the upside, it was a sign of