Vile Experiment: A DCI Kirk Ross Scottish Thriller by Duncan Wallace

Author:Duncan Wallace [Wallace, Duncan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Another phone call to the hospital’s security section confirmed that Dr. Lovett was still on duty, and that he was apparently still in the building. The security guard I talked to was quick to tell me that the system wasn’t foolproof and that Lovett could easily have slipped out without using his ID, but I told him we’d take the chance. It was clearly the most exciting thing the hospital’s guards had dealt with in some time, and I suspected more than a few had seen the press conference.

The fact that Lovett had opted to stay after we’d talked meant either he wasn’t guilty, or he was but was sure that we’d never gather enough evidence to prosecute. I wasn’t entirely sure which one was correct, but I hoped our next meeting would finally give me an answer.

When Rose and I stepped from the station, we were hit with a wind that carried the scent of rain. I glanced towards the sky, but the clouds were high and too thin to carry much of a storm. But that didn’t mean a massive thunderstorm wasn’t on the way.

“We should have driven back,” Rose huffed. “Now we’ve got to walk all the way back to Princess Square.”

“We never would have found a spot with all those media trucks and vans around,” I replied.

“If you’d parked where I do, it would have been okay,” she replied. “It’s not like you would have had a ticket so quickly.”

“Why do I doubt that?” I asked.

We walked along the riverside, which was a beautiful sight in the silver moonlight, and if I hadn’t been in the middle of a case, I would have liked to stand over there by the railings and listen to the slow ebb of water as it smacked against the banks. But I could do little more than give it a passing glance as we hurried by, and I felt myself sigh as I remembered special dinners out with my parents when I was a child. We’d stay out late, past my bedtime, and I would enjoy some kind of fizzy drink while they would have a gin or whisky before we walked slowly home along the banks.

A lot of Glaswegian life played out on those banks, and hundreds, if not thousands, of tourists graced the pavement each week. It was one of the few places on earth that felt like home to me, and it was a struggle to keep walking and not stop for a moment to soak in the scents and sounds of it.

But we turned away from the river and stepped onto a busy street, and though it was reaching midnight, the pubs and clubs were still going strong, and there were many people still littered around the streets. Some small puddles of vomit, that from the dim light, appeared to have a life of their own. I knew the mixture only consisted of booze, carrots, because for some reason there were always carrots in vomit, and whatever else the person had eaten that day, but it still looked like something alien.

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