new member of the gang. I winced as I looked at Bruce – he, and his sightlessness, were kept around as permanent reminders of what happened to Dark Angels who crossed Moses. He had deliberately blinded Bruce after he had questioned the authority of the Dark Angels’ leader, cut out his eyes as easily as peeling a banana.
‘Who’s that?’ I pointed to the new guy.
‘He’s the chemist.’ The fact that Bruce was now the one holding the street drugs only emphasized that he was an expendable – probably the most expendable – member of the gang. Moses Tierney has a flair for the dramatic, one that’s shared by the rest of the Dark Angels.
‘What’s his name?’ Moses was staring in the opposite direction, which was interesting – maybe he was embarrassed about selling drugs on street corners after all. ‘You know,’ I continued, ‘I’m not going to give up; and if he keeps standing there, I’ll be representing both of them, him and Blind Bruce, in court tomorrow anyway.’ Moses looked disappointed. He was hiding something – we were both sure I didn’t want to know, but it had gone too far now.
‘If I tell you, will you go?’ he asked, and I nodded. ‘His name’s Cal.’ I sniggered and flicked my eyes over the new guy. There was something different about him; for a start I could see the roots of his ginger hair, but he was also wearing a Breitling watch which, from where I was standing, looked authentic. I was surprised to see that he wore handmade brogues, of the type that Grandad wore. Odd.
I had to go. As I opened the throttle along George Street I felt as if strange eyes were upon me. I tried to shake off the uncomfortable feeling and hoped that I was just picking up on the air of panic in the city.
Perhaps I had just outstayed my welcome.
Chapter Eight
George Street, Edinburgh
Sunday 23 December, 1.25 a.m.
He stopped whistling to himself when he saw her – he knew it was her even before she took her helmet off. When she shook her curls free, he felt that she was toying with him but he was still mesmerized. His jaw was tight and his neck stiffened. He’d show her and then she’d be sorry .
The Christmas lights shone on her face and The Watcher was pleased that Brodie no longer looked tired or edgy. He hoped this situation would continue. Nothing wrong with a false sense of security – he needed a few more days to bring his plan to fruition. The thought of his plan excited him.
Her long auburn hair spilled around her shoulders in a whirl of tendrils. He cursed the fact that she was wearing her leathers but he could still imagine her body underneath them. He had a very good imagination.
He sniffed the cold night air – just on the periphery he imagined he could smell her. It felt as if she had been talking to that delinquent forever. What did she see in him? Didn’t they know what time it was? It was way past a good girl’s bedtime. A slow smile broke out on his face and reached his eyes. Tapping his fingers on the lamppost he bit his lip to cool his impatience – it was not yet his time.
A pretty girl like Brodie McLennan shouldn’t be left alone in a city like this when the Ripper was on the loose. A discreet laugh escaped his lips. Passers-by probably wondered what his private joke was, but it would remain private; that was the whole point of secrets. The Watcher liked secrets.
The Harley growled into life but she didn’t drive off. He was torn; it bothered him when she talked to Moses Tierney but at least he knew where she was. The Watcher knew that Tierney wanted her to leave; he kept looking over Brodie’s shoulder as if he was expecting someone he didn’t want her to see. When she finally did leave, The Watcher would have to find her again and that wasn’t always easy. He held his breath as he saw her drive off into the night. Resentment tightened the knot in his stomach – he couldn’t follow her yet.
Five minutes passed before Tierney’s mystery guest