What Will Burn by James Oswald (latest novels to read .TXT) 📗

had come to his turn, he worried that his own story of betrayal might seem pathetic, but they’d all been outraged on his behalf. One of the men, Anthony he thought his name was, had even promised to look into the lawyer who’d tricked Gary into signing that fateful document. The one that lost him his house, his child, his job and God knew what else besides.

And then everything had changed.

Some of them had gone for a drink after the meeting. More stories from the courts and the endless list of injustices done to men who were only trying to provide for their families. Gary was glad nobody asked him to buy a round. His money’s almost run out and he’s behind on the rent already. They were winding up anyway, but then Fielding gets a text that obviously means something. Gary can’t see what it says or who it’s from. Fielding tells them he needs to cut things short, and it’s only when the other two get up to leave Gary realises it means he has to go too.

That’s when he sees the redhead. The bitch from the protests. Sure, she’s dressed herself up a bit smarter, and she’s got a hat on to hide her hair, but he’d recognise her any day. She shouted in his face, accused him of being in league with paedos. That’s not something you forget in a hurry. Last he heard she’d been arrested and thrown in a cell. So why’s she sitting in a little alcove off the main bar along with a couple of young women who must be lezzies given how close they’re sitting together? He turns back to tell Fielding, but the lawyer’s on his phone and the other men have gone. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

But it bothers him, all the same. One of the lezzies looks familiar too, though he really can’t place her. Still, he knows that there’s something going on, so instead of heading back to his grotty little bedsit in Gorgie and the constant whining of the landlady, he finds a corner of reception to sit and watch.

It doesn’t take long for something to happen, but it’s not what he was expecting. Not at all. The flunky in the ridiculous uniform hurries to the front door, pulls it open just in time for someone to come in. Instinctively, Gary tries to hide, make himself invisible, even though the woman who has just entered has never seen him before. He’s seen her, though. On the news, in the papers, and in photographs Fielding’s shared with him and the others. This is the queen bitch, the one who runs the cops in Edinburgh. The cops who arrested him for assault when all he’d done was give Bella the slap she deserved for nagging him to go change Wee Mary. Fielding’s told him all about her, the things she did to him in London, the way she screwed her way to the top of the police and the men she shat on, careers she destroyed, on her way up. He hates everything about her.

So why is she coming to see him? Why here? Why now?

From where he sits, Gary has a good view through the open door to the bar and Fielding’s table. He can even see the little alcove across the room where that redhead bitch is chatting with her lezzie friends. That’s when it hits him where he’s seen the other one before. Here. In this bar. With that giant bastard who was so tall he had to stoop through the doorway. She’s a cop, for fuck’s sake. Not locking the bitch up in a cell but taking her out for a drink.

Gary’s anger is burning bright now. He’s on his feet, striding across the reception area towards the bar, ready to defend Fielding when the police corner him or try to arrest him. But they don’t do that.

The one on the far side of the bar looks like she’s snogging her girlfriend, but Gary’s not so easily fooled. She’s hiding from her boss, using the clinch to stop herself from being recognised like Captain America and Scarlett Johansson in that movie. It stops him in his tracks, and just in time too. The senior cop, the top bitch, sees Fielding at the same time as the lawyer spots her standing just inside the bar. Gary’s expecting angry faces, arguments. What he gets is Fielding standing up swiftly and embracing the woman like an old friend.

Like a lover.

They chat briefly, and then Fielding’s grabbing his coat from the back of the seat. Gary’s almost caught out, but he ducks down the little corridor that leads to the gents as the two of them walk out arm in arm. They’re so engrossed in each other, they barely notice the doorman opening the door and wishing them a good evening. And they certainly don’t see Gary as he darts out behind them to follow.

They don’t go far, just a couple of hundred metres down the road to where one of the new glass-walled apartment blocks glows in the night. Fielding taps at the keypad beside the door, the lock buzzes, and the two of them go inside. Only one reason Gary can think of for them to do that, and it makes no sense.

He hears footsteps on the pavement and shrinks into the shadows, unnoticed as the three women walk swiftly by, chattering away. They carry on down the road until the next set of traffic lights, cross, and make their way back along the other side. When they reach the apartment block, the one who’s a cop pulls out her phone and plays with it for a while. They’re arguing, but from where he is, Gary can’t hear what they’re saying. Then they set off again, back towards the Lothian Road.

He watches them go, then stares up at the building. It’s impossible to see into any of the apartments from where he stands, and he’s