The Dark Remains by Ian Rankin

Author:Ian Rankin [Rankin, Ian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canongate Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

22

The Glasgow Press Club was on West George Street. A curving staircase – the bane of many an over-weight journalist’s life – led to a locked door behind which sat a bar and a separate snooker room. Eddie Devlin was already there. Devlin worked for the Glasgow Herald and had an archivist’s knowledge of the city. A quarter-gill measure of whisky was waiting for Laidlaw, along with a jug of water. A TV was on in a corner of the room, showing what looked like an Open University programme.

‘Barman’s studying structural mechanics,’ Devlin explained. He had a pint of Tennent’s in front of him, and would doubtless refer to his glass as half empty rather than half full.

‘Get you a top-up?’ Laidlaw asked, but the reporter shook his head. ‘I must be losing my hearing, Eddie,’ Laidlaw chided him.

‘Doctor’s orders. He wants me losing two stone. I did suggest he lop off a limb or two, but he advised against.’

‘What’s the diagnosis?’

‘You name it, I’ve got it. Diabetes, scarred lungs, coronary heart disease. Oh, and a touch of toothache too.’

‘Sounds like a full house to me. You’re still working, though?’

‘Crime never sleeps, Jack, and neither does the Herald’s chief reporter. Actually, I do snatch a few hours here and there, though I’m always fretting I might not wake up again. So fill me with good cheer – tell me you’re here to divulge rather than dig.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you, Eddie.’ Laidlaw opened his cigarettes and offered Devlin one.

‘I’m trying to quit.’ Which didn’t stop him gazing wistfully at Laidlaw as he placed one between his lips and lit it.

‘Willpower apart, what’s the secret?’

‘Polo mints and chewing gum.’

‘Explains the toothache, at any rate.’ In a small act of charity, Laidlaw blew some smoke his friend’s way, watching Devlin inhale it. Then: ‘You hearing anything from your sources, Eddie?’ He dragged the ashtray across the table towards him.

‘About last night, you mean? One petrol bombing, two doings?’

‘That and everything else. I’m sensing a pattern behind the chaos, but it’s not quite revealed itself to me yet.’

‘You and me both. You know Carter wasn’t the type to keep his nose clean? Had trouble keeping his trousers zipped, too.’

‘We’ve spoken to Jennifer Love. Are we missing any others?’

‘Probably a slew of one-night stands and afternoon assignations. He’d go to that casino on Ingram Street. They have a couple of bedrooms on the top floor, sometimes used by clients when they’re the worse for wear – I’m talking high-rollers the casino treats with kid gloves. That’s where Carter took at least some of his conquests.’

‘Seems like everybody knew except his wife and kids.’

‘Isn’t that always the way of it, though?’

‘Is the casino still run by Joey Frazer?’ ‘It’s his name on the paperwork, but Colvin owns the building and takes the lion’s share of the profits.’

‘So if Carter got in over his head . . .’

‘Carter never did bet much. He’d eat a meal, drink a bottle of champagne, try a few spins of the wheel or hands of blackjack.

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