Spent the night in an East End kip house. Came cheap, but none too cheerful. Knew I needed to make more permanent arrangements, and soon.
Going out the door my phone rang, was Amy. I said, ‘Oh hi, was just about to give you a ring.’
‘What kind — diamond?’
‘Ha! Lot cheaper.’
‘ Ruby?’
‘Closer, was thinking Orange — mobile.’
Loud sigh followed. ‘At least I know you’re not going to disappoint me tonight. We’re still on, aren’t we?’
I’d forgotten all about it, said, ‘’Course we are.’
‘Great.’ She sounded ecstatic, boosted my worth. ‘Because I thought I might get my hooks into you a bit earlier, make sure you don’t go AWOL on me again.’
This crushed me, I didn’t want to be tied down by anybody. ‘How early?’
‘Like, now-ish.’
I looked at my watch. Wasn’t yet nine, in the a.m. ‘Where are you?’
Suddenly I felt a solid slap on my shoulder.
‘Here!’
‘Jesus! Are you trying to end me?’
She laughed like a drain. Amy looked luscious in tight white jeans, a kooky hip-hugging dress thrown over them. ‘You’re not quite in your heart attack years yet, Gus!’
‘I’m a damn sight nearer after that, let me tell you. What are you playing at?’
‘Thought I’d come and meet you.’
‘How did you know where I’d be? I hardly know the answer to that one myself these days.’
‘Impulse. Female intuition — call it what you like.’
‘Stalking.’
The smile went. ‘Not funny!’
‘Touchy subject? The voice of experience?’
She grabbed my arm. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘and try to lighten up. Old, I can handle, old prick, no thanks.’
Thought about saying I was the same age all over, but left it.
There seemed to be something different about Amy today, but I couldn’t place it. Truth was, I’d a distraction. Kept turning around to look for the Cube. Don’t know why. I’d no reason to think he’d be following me at this moment, just a trick of the memory, I supposed. The first time he’d shown, Amy was in my company, but I’d nothing to suggest this was anything more than coincidence.
We got a rare blast of sun, grabbed some fruit smoothies and settled down in Holyrood Park. I ruined the healthy look with a Scotch pie — real cow-brain special.
‘You should go veggie,’ said Amy.
‘I should do lots of things, going veggie’s about bottom of the list.’
‘Oh, whatever!’ There it was again. Amy’s vocabulary tripped across the Atlantic. Maybe there was hope for her generation to shake off some home-grown influences.
‘Don’t you mean, like whatever?’
‘Eh?’
‘No matter.’ I felt bored with the conversation, changed tack. ‘Amy, do you remember when I ran into you the other day?’
‘With the tie. God, what was that like?’
‘Yeah. Enough about the tie.’ I shook my head. ‘There was a guy, remember?’
‘No, not really… well, maybe… You said something about a guy with a paper. Why?’
‘He showed up again.’
‘Freaky.’
‘I thought so.’
‘Is he, like, following you?’
‘I’m pretty sure he’s bloody following me. And some bastard turned over my gaff.’
‘What? Like the movies? That’s just mental.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Who do you think it is?’
I laid it all out for her: Billy’s murder; the Latvian girls; the death threat. I left nothing out. I gave her an ideal opportunity to take off, run for the hills. But, all credit to her, she seemed concerned. Whether it came down to a lack of years or romantic idealism, her hackles seemed well and truly raised.
‘Gus, this is just awful.’
I nodded into my smoothie.
‘I wouldn’t have believed…’ She looked out into the road, an old woman struggled along with a shopping trolley. ‘I mean, it all seems so normal out there.’
Her statement seemed absurd to me. I hadn’t known normal for a very long time.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘What I have to — find Billy’s killer.’
‘I want to help.’
I smiled at her. She meant every word, but the idea that she could be any help to me was laughable and the exact opposite of what I’d hoped she’d say.
‘You’re doing that already — listening to this is a help, Amy. You’re helping me get all this straight in my mind. It’s a lot to carry around.’
‘That’s not what I meant. I meant proper help.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. There’s got to be something I could do.’
It crossed my mind that by keeping her around I’d take the edge off the danger — it might be tricky making a hit on me with a witness about. But I scrubbed the idea. She had to go, I knew it.
‘The reason I told you all this wasn’t to get you involved. I wanted to explain things, why I have to-’
‘Oh, here it comes.’ She flung back her head. A tremor of tiny ripples passed along the top of her smoothie.
‘It’s not like that.’
‘No?’
‘What I’m trying to tell you is that if you stick around me, you could be in danger. Maybe not as much as me, but there might be trouble.’
She stood up. ‘You bastard.’
‘ Sorry?’
As I looked at her I became aware of what bugged me about her appearance. A new piercing sat above her lip, to the right.
‘You’ve got a piercing?’
‘Oh, so you noticed.’
‘I did. I did. Look, sit back down, Amy.’
She calmed a bit. ‘It’s called a Monroe.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Marilyn Monroe.’ Amy pointed to the shiny piece of silver above her lip. ‘She had, like, a beauty spot or something about here.’
I liked the idea, said, ‘Nice — I’ve climbed all the Munros, you know.’
She frowned on me. ‘I think you’ve missed one!’