Read Witness the Dead for Free Online Page B

that.’ He paused, brain whirring. ‘Is she really dead?’
    ‘Yes, Mr Wylde. She is.’
    ‘Wisnae me.’
    ‘Can you prove that, Robert? Who can vouch for where you were?’
    Wylde’s face crumpled. ‘No one. I can’t give you a name. No one.’
    ‘Okay. Where does Kirsty McAndrew live?’
    ‘With her mum and dad. In Elcho Street, no’ far off the Gallowgate.’
    ‘What’s her mum and dad’s name?’
    ‘Um. Donald and, er, Geraldine. Donny and Geraldine. Oh, fuck, they’ll be . . . It wisnae me. Honestly. It wisnae.’
    ‘Hmm. Mr Wylde, you assaulted two police officers today. Will you confirm that for the tape?’
    The duty solicitor coughed and tried to interrupt, but Wylde spoke over him.
    ‘Yes. I cut them. I’m sorry. I thought . . . I . . . I cut them with razor blades. But I didn’t touch Kirsty. I swear it.’

Chapter 6
    Saturday night
    Her back was pressed against the cold, grey granite of the Victoria Bridge, at the beginning of Gorbals Street. Her front was pressed against his chest, his mouth seeking hers. Somewhere on the fringes of the kiss, she heard a car horn blare and the hiss of air brakes as a bus slowed on the vast junction with Clyde Street on the southern fringes of the city centre. It was way after midnight but the crossing was still busy with traffic.
    ‘Come on, I’ll walk you home.’
    ‘No, you won’t. There’s no need. You know it’s only going to take me twenty minutes to walk it. Look, I can see my flat from here.’
    He followed her gaze to where the twin towers of Caledonia Road were in sight, albeit nearly a mile away. Giant twinkling shadows on the other side of the river.
    ‘Aye, Hannah, twenty minutes at this time of night.’
    ‘You wouldn’t be coming in, anyway. I’m working in the morning and my mother wouldn’t like it.’
    He looked away but couldn’t hide a smile. ‘That’s not why I’m offering.’
    ‘Course it isn’t.’
    ‘I’m just not happy about you walking home on your own. You know that.’
    ‘Gary, I’ll be fine. Anyway, how am I going to manage that half-marathon next week if I can’t walk home? It’s only a mile.’
    ‘Yeah but—’
    ‘But nothing.’ She leaned in and kissed him again, knowing he would give in, just as he usually did.
    Moments later she pulled herself away, her hands flat against his ribcage, teasingly holding him off. ‘See you tomorrow night?’
    ‘Yeah. Pick you up?’
    ‘No, I’ll get you in town. I’m going to meet Emma first for a couple of drinks. I’ll text you.’
    ‘A couple of drinks? I know what you and your sister are like when you get started. Try and be sober when I get there, eh?’
    At that, she slipped away from him and backed off, grinning at him as she reversed. ‘You’ll just have to wait and see. Can’t promise anything. Like you said, you know what I’m like when I get started.’
    ‘Tease.’
    ‘You love it. Byeeee.’
    She waved and turned with only the slightest hint of unsteadiness, caused as much by her heels as the unknown number of vodka-and-cranberries. She was still waving as she began the march across the bridge, the Clyde inky black below its five broad stone arches. She didn’t look but she knew he would be running across the junction in search of his bus or possibly a last drink.
    How many times had she walked across this bridge? Thousands, probably. Sometimes she’d take the Albert Bridge from the Saltmarket and get onto Laurieston Road that way. It was six and half a dozen in terms of distance. She liked the walk, even if Gary wasn’t keen on her taking it. She’d done it thousands of times before she’d met him and with probably a couple of thousand more to come.
    There was a point, midway across just as she reached the central arch, where she always made a little hop. She’d done it since she was a kid, walking either to or from town with her mum and dad. It marked, in her head at least, the halfway point in the river, the moment she crossed south of