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

Maureen’s recovery. He had to take that from it. Then it hit him with a clarity that stunned him that he was through trying to understand why Gail left. He had was through trying to work out why she hated him. He was just through. Gail was gone, now nothing more than a memory, her face and body and barely remembered smile only images on long-forgotten photographs. He wished he had called at Christmas, spoken to her at New Year, maybe even paid her one last visit in the summer.
    ‘You’re right, Mo. I should’ve been more considerate.’
    ‘Harry loved Mum. He really looked after her.’
    Gilchrist struggled to keep quiet.
    ‘And
she
loved
him
,’ she pressed on. ‘Don’t forget that.’
    He almost asked why she would tell him that, as if she blamed him for their divorce. After all, Gail was the one who’d had the affair. But he had travelled that road with Maureen before and knew he was on a losing ride. Instead, he said, ‘I know.’
    His submission seemed to work. ‘I know you loved Mum, Dad,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you must be hurting, too. But Harry took care of her, you know.’
    Hearing those words hurt. If he had been there for Gail, been there when she needed him, instead of working the case of the day, would their marriage have survived?
    ‘Mum didn’t want you to visit because of the way she looked.’
    ‘It wouldn’t have mattered to me how she looked.’
    ‘It mattered to Mum.’
    Gilchrist stared across fields that stirred alive with the shadows of tumbling clouds. Beyond, on the horizon, the black silhouette of a ship seemed anchored in time. He felt an inexplicable urge to be standing on board, facing the wind, breathing in the promise of—
    ‘Mum was only a shadow of herself.’ Maureen’s voice cut into his thoughts like a cold wind. ‘She couldn’t keep her food down. You would hardly have recognized her.’
    Gilchrist pressed his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes, surprised by the sting. Gail had always been a fighter, and she had fought for every one of those final closing days. ‘I’m sorry, Mo,’ he offered. ‘I’m not thinking straight. The whole thing’s come as a shock. Are you all right?’ He listened to another sniff, then said, ‘I’ll be in Glasgow this evening. We could meet if you’d like.’
    ‘I can’t.’
    No explanation, just a statement that dared him to challenge her. But what hurt was the thought that she might prefer to visit Harry rather than spend time with her father. He forced those thoughts away. She had somewhere to go, friends to see. Not Harry.
    ‘Let’s talk later,’ he said.
    ‘Sure.’
    He hung up, but not before Maureen.
    He gritted his teeth. After Gail and Harry moved to Glasgow, taking Jack and Maureen with them, he often felt he was out of touch with his children. He promised himself he would call more often, spend more time with them, now Gail had gone. Not that they needed him, if the truth be told, but that he needed them.
    With that thought, he called Jack, but could only leave a message, asking him to get back for a chat. He eased the Mercedes off the grass verge and called Stan as he accelerated into traffic.
    ‘Listen to this, boss. Nance visited the university, like you asked.’
    Gilchrist pressed the phone to his ear. Nance could be as tough as a bulldog when she got her teeth into something, and twice as determined.
    ‘She spoke to the dean of the geography and geosciences faculty, who said that female students often formed clubs that provided each of its members with a token of membership. Pens, diaries—’
    ‘Cigarette lighters?’
    ‘Correct, boss.’
    ‘And get this,’ Stan went on, failing to keep the triumph from his voice. ‘They were often initialled.’ A pause, as if to let the statement settle. ‘I’m willing to bet we’ll find initials on the cigarette lighter.’
    ‘Willing enough to try to clear the twenty quid you owe me?’
    ‘Done.’
    ‘Sorry to burst your bubble, Stan,