Read Watcher for Free Online

predictably.
    ‘Oh, shut up – that wasn’t talking, that was grunting. And you may have noticed you did a hell of a lot more of it than me, so don’t go thinking you’ve waltzed back into town like bloody Casanova.’
    ‘I got a call. A personal one.’
    I didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow of interest, finding my cuticles much more interesting instead.
    ‘From your Grandad. He had a bit of news for me – namely that you and Joe were definitely over, and if I came back, I might find myself in with a shout.’
    ‘Lovely,’ I hissed. ‘Did he offer you a dowry as well?’
    ‘The timing was perfect – the Sudanese government was throwing me out anyway. And I got here in time for Christmas.’
    He pulled on a red Santa hat that lay on the floor.
    ‘How about we give it a try?’
    I slammed the door on my way out.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    Susie Wong’s, George Street, Edinburgh
Sunday 23 December, 1.25 a.m.
    I’d ridden the Fat Boy thousands of times – I needed the instant focus that comes over me when I kick-start the engine. I wanted the answers to some questions and the first one was – how drunk was I when I dragged Jack Deans back to my bed? Sadly, I couldn’t have been that bad as I seemed fine to drive – I’d have to just put it down to bad judgement. Again.
    I had other things to bother me – I had to get to Malcolm and had been delayed by the festive scenario I’d just left behind in my flat. A chill had settled in my bones; I hoped it could be explained away by the fact that it was minus two degrees. The pavements were slippery and young girls teetered down the street singing Christmas songs.
    Following Malcolm’s instructions I headed off to meet Moses en route to the police station. The Christmas lights were up in George Street and it was quite a show, classier than the Blackpool illuminations – I didn’t like to admit it, but they always made me feel good. Moses Tierney, leader of the Dark Angels gang, and my most important client, had opened a new club there. I walked into Susie Wong’s and saw him immediately. As usual he was dressed in full-length black leather coat, leather trousers, black silk shirt and handmade boots. He was leaning on his ebony walking cane surveying the scene when I got there. He raised his cane in salute to me but kept his eyes firmly on the queue. Very few people in Edinburgh know he is the owner; they dismiss the presence of the Dark Angels as the hired muscle, but Moses is shrewd. I’d never underestimate him.
    ‘Have you got Malcolm’s pills?’
    ‘They’re just coming.’
    The burglary skills of the Dark Angels come in handy sometimes.
    ‘Business is good,’ I commented, shaking my hair, trying to get the knots out of it. Moses turned to me and said, ‘Appearances can be deceptive,’ before turning away. I followed the line of his eyes. A large queue had formed outside the club where two young Dark Angels were out of uniform. The Dark Angels were a brand. They marketed fear in the city, instantly recognizable from their platinum-white hair and ashen skin. Both sexes wore black from head to toe, including nail varnish. Mascara was optional for the men; immaculate grooming was not. They scared lots of people, but I loved them. Moses had looked after me for years – many of them without me knowing it – and, along with Kailash, had saved my life. He wasn’t a criminal to me; he was a guardian angel.
    ‘What are you up to?’ I asked. Moses didn’t reply: too busy directing operations. It was a game that we often played – I had to see if I could figure out his scam, even although we both knew that, as soon as I did, I’d have to leave. It was bound to be illegal. I scrutinized the two Dark Angels. They were beautiful – but that was generally the case. The boy was around seventeen and wore a 1920s evening suit, with tails and a white tie. A battered brown leather suitcase was open on a table. It contained his props. He pulled out two