A Pound of Flesh

Chapter 40





The telephone ringing at 6.30 next morning made Lorimer sit up in bed and snatch it quickly. Maggie sat up sleepily, watching her husband’s face for any signs that might tell her what was happening. When it lit up with a smile she let out a sigh of relief, unaware that she had been holding her breath.

‘She’s going to be all right,’ he said as he put down the phone at last. ‘Still hasn’t regained consciousness and they’re taking her in to theatre first thing but she’s out of danger, they say.’

Maggie reached out and clung to his arm. ‘Happy birthday,’ she whispered, finding his cheek and kissing it.

‘Good grief! I’d forgotten all about that,’ he smiled, turning to her and taking her into his arms. ‘Well, that news is the best present I could’ve had,’ he added softly.

Tucked against his chest, Maggie gave a grin that she knew he could not see: there were more surprises in store later on. Just wait and see if this day didn’t get better and better, she thought happily.


Rita Livingstone sat nursing her coffee cup as Lorimer outlined the plans for the squad. It had been a long morning so far. The news about Barbara Knox had spread like wildfire throughout the department, speculation running high about who had abducted the police officer and why. It had been a stroke of sheer luck that she had been located way up in Glennifer Braes. Whoever had made that 999 call deserved a medal. Although a cynical part of Rita wondered if the caller might have been instrumental in throwing the woman down that gully in the first place. Some villains simply baulked at the idea of doing in another human being and this was, after all, a police officer. But now there was a different sort of news to consider, something that would affect them all.

‘What will you do yourself, sir?’ she asked quietly.

‘That hasn’t been decided yet, Rita,’ Lorimer sighed. ‘But it was hinted that I might be transferred to a divisional HQ somewhere.’

‘In Strathclyde?’

Lorimer’s eyebrows rose. ‘Better be. My wife works in Muirpark Secondary and I don’t think she’d be too happy to have to relocate.’

Rita Livingstone noticed a softness in her superior’s eyes at the mention of his wife but she did not change her own expression. There was something there that caused her a sudden pang. This man, childless though he might be, had that rare thing: a loving marriage. It was his fortieth birthday today, Rita knew. She had noticed the date on his personnel file way before Christmas and made a note of it. His wife had sworn her to secrecy about the party this evening and Rita was gratified to have been the only one in the squad to have received an invitation. He hasn’t had much time to get to know his new colleagues, Maggie Lorimer had told her, but he speaks so warmly of you that I thought you’d like to come along.

This afternoon she had planned a wee surprise for the boss: a cake from Asda with the Strathclyde Police logo on top and two chunky wax candles shaped in a 4 and a 0. Not everybody would be able to be there, given the workload, but enough to wish this man well on his special day.

‘I’ve hardly had time to get to know any of you,’ Lorimer said, unconsciously echoing his wife’s words.

‘It happens,’ Rita shrugged. ‘But we did think the squad might have lasted a good bit longer or been transformed into something else. You know, same thing but under another name.’

Lorimer remained silent. The squad was being streamlined, Joyce Rogers had told him, but there had been a hint that a similar unit might emerge elsewhere, possibly out at Govan. Yet there had been no mention of the Pitt Street officers being deployed there. Had the Pattison case come to a satisfactory conclusion would he be looking forward to commanding a new squad over on the south side of the city? Perhaps. He hadn’t asked that particular question, though, preferring to await whatever fate had in store.


As the final bell of the day rang out, Maggie packed up the last of her papers into a well-worn satchel and headed out after her class. The day had remained clear and crisp and the sun was still above the rooftops as she left the school, the sky blue beyond the lines of leafless trees that ran along the adjacent cricket grounds. It looked like being a fine night for the party. She had plenty of time to get ready at home, call anyone who might have left messages and leave out packs of food for Chancer. Jean, their wonderful cleaning lady who came in twice a week, had offered to pop in and feed the cat so that they could enjoy their overnight stay in the Malmaison. As she drove home, Maggie found herself humming along to an old Joni Mitchell song that she’d put on the CD player.

There was a DJ coming later on after the meal and there would be dancing till after midnight. She grinned as she remembered being shown that luxurious room and the chequered floor in the en suite bathroom: the bed was easily big enough for a night of fun and games. Then there was the promise of a big breakfast (if they got up in time, she thought wickedly) before a taxi took her back to Muirpark for work. Maggie made a mental note of everybody who was to be there and her grin deepened as she anticipated her husband’s delight at seeing so many of his old friends. Och, it was going to be a night to remember! She was certain of that.


The woman who sometimes called herself Diana sat on the edge of the bed, intent on filing her nails into gentle curves. A pot of scarlet polish sat on the bedside table, ready to be applied once she had performed the initial manicure. Tonight was going to be the night when she finally found him. Her face took on a thoughtful cast. Barbara had been able to tell her so much, hadn’t she? The surveillance operation was a difficulty she hadn’t expected to face, though. The woman smiled, tossing back her mane of dark hair. With any luck they would simply take her for one of the undercover officers. And that shouldn’t be something that would present any problems, should it?

She laid down the nail file on the satin bedspread and glanced out of the window. It was to be a full moon tonight and the scraps of cloud lingering above the city were shifting fast, swept along by a chill east wind. Well, neither wind nor weather was going to stop her now: she’d be ready and waiting whenever that white car appeared on the corner.


Lorimer smiled to himself as he tucked the birthday card away in his desk drawer. It had been nice of Rita to organise the cake and everything and several of the team had managed to sign his card, some of them adding cheeky comments. Then the smile turned to a sigh. It would remain as a small souvenir of his time with them all in Pitt Street, something to look back on when he was fifty, maybe, and approaching retirement.

He looked at his desk and nodded in satisfaction. All the paperwork was in order, the undercover units organised for tonight so he could slip off with a clear conscience and enjoy his evening with Maggie. A quiet night, just the two of them, was what he wanted and he was glad she hadn’t suggested anything more. He glanced at his watch and rose from his chair. It was time to be off, have a quick shower and shave then change into whatever met with his wife’s approval for their night out.

As Lorimer walked across the street to where the silver Lexus was parked, he saw its outline glimmering in the moonlight. Happy birthday to me, he sang softly. He hoped Maggie wouldn’t have spent her hard-earned money on anything else. It’s all I want, he’d told her simply, when he’d first brought it home. The big car unlocked itself silently and he moved into the driver’s seat, shivering suddenly. Goose walked over your grave? he asked himself then pushed the heated seat control to its maximum before driving off into the night.