We sat on either side of the breakfast bar, letting the heavy silence build up as each waited for the other to say something. I cracked first.
‘Aye,’ I muttered, ‘the things you do for your friends, eh.’
She looked into her mug, as if she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to start crying again, so I let her off the hook. ‘I’m sorry, Susie. I should never have put us in that situation. I should have known better, but when you asked me to stay with you, I thought, well us being pals and all, and you being scared, well I thought …’
Her eyes came up and held mine. ‘I know,’ she said, ‘and when I wakened up and saw you there with your dong hanging out of your boxers, I just thought well, us being pals and all. . Don’t tell me you never shagged a pal before.’
She shook her head. ‘Please, don’t say any more, Oz. Stop apologising all the fucking time! Leave me with the illusion that you might have fancied me just a wee bit.’
‘Hey,’ I protested, ‘don’t get mad at me. How do you think I feel? My wife. . whom I love dearly, by the way, and who told me not even to think of putting you in a hotel. . is away, and what do I do? Probably the daftest of the many daft things I’ve ever done in my life. Yes, I was worried about you after what happened, but why didn’t I sleep in a chair outside the door?’
‘Good question.’
‘Because it never occurred to me, okay? I thought …’
Her brown eyes flashed. ‘You thought, what the hell, it’s only wee Susie, she’s no danger. Christ, but you are good for a girl’s morale! Couldn’t you even pretend you fancied me? I’m not shy about it. I wanted you. . no, shit, I needed you. . and I had you. Know what? I’d do it again too, only I wouldn’t want you to lower your standards any more.’
Somewhere, my brain registered that Mike Dylan had been right about her; she was really good at being manipulative. ‘Susie, don’t give me that,’ I shot back at her. ‘Listen, if I was in the market for a shag, you’d be the first person I’d ask. It’s not a matter of whether I fancy you or not, or whether I find you attractive. Of course, you’re fucking attractive! You’ve got a body on you that would give a jellyfish a hard on.
‘But allow me a bit of guilt here! Allow me a bit of self-recrimination. Prim’ll be back on Monday and I’ve got to figure out a way of looking her in the eye.’
She reached across the bar and patted my hand. She was smiling again, but there was a hard edge to it. ‘You’ll manage, Oz my son. From what I remember, you’ve managed it before.’
‘Jesus!’ I gasped. ‘That was below the belt.’
‘It was true, though, wasn’t it? You know something? Jack Gantry might not have been my natural father, but he raised me as if he was. Heredity isn’t everything; upbringing counts for much more. The old Lord Provost used to say to me, “You know, kid, there’s one thing that’ll stand between a man and his conscience every time. But he’ll never admit it.”
‘Maybe it’s time you did. You like women, Oz. You could have married Jan when you were both twenty-one, but you put her on the shelf so you could screw your way through Edinburgh. I know; she told me. Not in so many words, but she told me. You haven’t changed now, and you never will. Sure, you can wring your hands for the sake of it, you can have your guilt, and you can have your self-recrimination; but let’s have some honesty here as well. You could fuck the daylights out of me for the rest of the weekend and still look Prim in the eye when you meet her at the airport.
‘Oz, my dear, you are a serial shagger. You always have been and you always will be. Face the fact.’
I don’t know why. . no, that’s a lie, I do know why. . but when she said that, I closed my eyes and saw a face; not Jan’s, not Primavera’s, not hers, but the olive skin and dark eyes of Veronique Sanchez i Leclerc.
‘I’ll make it easy for you,’ Susie went on. ‘I’ll be gone by Sunday. I honestly don’t want to bust up your marriage, and I’m not as smooth as you. I know how perceptive Prim can be.’
She took a good swig of her coffee. ‘Strong stuff this. I can feel my brain beginning to work again. So let’s go back to what you were on about upstairs, just after you. . on your own initiative, by the way, not mine. . gave me that very enjoyable full body massage. What were you on about?’
‘Yes, please,’ I said. I was more than happy to change the subject. ‘First off, tell me this. Do you have any history of sleepwalking? Do you often go to sleep in one place and waken up in another?’
‘Never,’ she replied firmly. ‘I’ve crawled into bed often enough, like last night, but I’ve never ever crawled out of it.’
‘Okay. Now, what do you remember about last night?’
‘From when?’
‘From the beginning.’
‘I remember we had a couple of beers and went out in a taxi.’
‘What did I do before we went out?’
She frowned. ‘Went for a slash? I don’t know.’
‘No, immediately before we went out; at the front door.’
‘Ahh. You set the alarm.’
‘Right. Go on.’
‘We went to that fisherman’s place and had a meal, and a bottle of nice pink fizzy wine. Torres de Casta, it was.’
‘Very good. Before we left, you went to the ladies. Were you okay there?’
She raised her eyebrows, and smirked at me. ‘Everything was a perfectly normal colour, if that’s what you mean.’
‘No, you daft bitch. Did you slip, did the bevvy get to you, did you flake out?’
‘No. I did what I had to do, then came back to join you.’
‘Right, next.’
‘We went to that wee bar, to see the nice old dear who gave me a lift. I went on to the brandy.’
‘I went to the gents again while we were there. When I was away, did anything happen? Did you fall off your bar stool or anything?’
‘Certainly not! While you were away the two guys who’d been playing pool came through, paid Jo for their drinks, and left. Then a German couple came in. Then you came back.’
‘Then?’
She sighed and smiled, blushing slightly. ‘That’s it. I remember you coming back and sitting down beside me, and finishing another big horse of a brandy. Then it all got very vague, until I was looking up and seeing you and my bum was feeling cold on the floor. Thinking back, the first thing I thought was that I’d fainted and that, yes, I had fallen off my bar stool. I was puzzled though; ’cos I knew I’d been wearing knickers when we went out.’
I felt myself frowning as I looked at her. ‘Think really carefully, Susie. Can you remember dreaming, even?’
She concentrated. I waited for almost a minute. ‘You know,’ she murmured, eventually. ‘I think I can. It was a funny dream. You were in it. You were standing in a big dark room; you were holding my boots in your hands, of all things. I knew I had to get your attention; I tried to shout to you but I couldn’t. I tried to run to you, but I couldn’t. I could feel someone dragging me in the opposite direction and all the time you were getting further away.’
‘How was he pulling you?’
She looked at me. ‘By the arms,’ she whispered. ‘Oz, does that mean anything?’
I pushed myself off my chair and walked across to the back door, which was at the end of a small hallway. Susie followed me, without being asked.
I showed her a panel set in the wall. ‘That’s a second control panel for the alarm system. It’s old technology, but it’s sound. You can set it, or disable it, back and front. You can do it manually, or with a remote; once it’s set, the whole ground floor is covered, and all the bedrooms that aren’t programmed out. Just now, that means yours and mine. I always set it at night, Susie; always with the remote as I go upstairs. Just as I always lock all the doors, then and when I go out. The shutters are all secured by bolts on the inside, but even if they weren’t, the windows have sensors. The only way to get into this house quietly when the alarm is set is by coming in through the back or front doors and switching it o
ff.
‘I realised this morning that when I came down to see to you last night, the alarm didn’t go off. I checked it; it had been disabled. Then I checked all the doors, and the windows, just for luck.’ I grabbed the handle of the back door, turned it and swung it open.
‘It was like that,’ I told her. I didn’t have to draw her any more pictures. She stood there, looking up at me shocked.
I put my hands on her shoulders, to steady both of us, maybe. ‘Susie, love,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to frighten you, but. . I don’t think you were sleepwalking last night. I think someone broke in here, took you out of bed and chucked you down the stairs.’
I felt her start to shake; her chin quivered. ‘Why would anyone want to do that?’ she asked me, in a small voice.
‘I don’t know. I really don’t.’
She looked up at me in a strange way; there was fear in there, but something more than that. Her shivering grew more violent, and I had the distinct impression that she wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. . or was afraid to find them.
I got it at last. ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘No, Susie, I promise you it wasn’t me. I’m the good guy here, honest.’ I pulled her to me and hugged her, as if to emphasise my innocence.
She pressed her face into my chest. ‘Sorry.’ I felt her say it as much as I heard it. ‘I know you didn’t, or wouldn’t, really. It’s just that when I came round, I saw you and when you said that. . I just had a terrible thought.’ She laughed, nervously. ‘Too many movies, I guess, and with you being in them now and all.’
She slid an arm around my neck, pulled herself up on her toes, and kissed me. Her lips were full and moist, and she seemed to taste of honey; her tongue flicked mine. I should have pulled back, but instead I felt myself draw her to me. I tried in vain to think of mistletoe. It was still Christmas, after all. ‘Susie,’ I murmured, as our mouths managed to unweld themselves.
‘Funny, innit?’ she said, in a voice that matched her taste. ‘We’ve had sex, but that’s the first time we’ve ever kissed.’
‘And the last, eh?’ I tried my best to smile.
‘We’ll see,’ she answered, teasing, as she took her arms from my neck and linked them round my waist. And then she was serious. ‘I’m sorry I got scared then, Oz. Christ,’ she exclaimed suddenly, ‘I’m entitled to be, though.
‘In a way I’d rather it was you that was the homicidal maniac! At least I know you. The thought that there’s a complete stranger out there who’s got it in for me. . that does give me the willies.’
I eased myself out of her grasp and guided her back to the kitchen, then I poured the last of the coffee and steered her though to the living room. She sat beside me on the big soft sofa, big hair, big chest, legs pulled up under her. ‘What’s been happening in Glasgow since I’ve been away?’ I asked her. ‘Have you been making any enemies?’
She shook her head at once. ‘No. Since Mike. .’ She hesitated for a second. ‘I’ve just been running my business; that’s all. I haven’t had any social life, and I certainly haven’t been screwing any other husbands. There are no wronged women after me, if that’s what you mean.’
‘It wasn’t, but anyway, let’s assume that it was a man who got in here. Whoever left those marks on you has hands at least as big as mine. Tell me; what sort of deals have you been doing lately?’
‘Deals? I’m a builder, not a corporate lawyer.’
‘Semantics. What projects have you got on the go?’
Susie threw her head back, gazing upwards. Her thick red hair fell back; she had small ears, I noticed for the first time, surprisingly delicate features for such a robust girl. The skin on her neck, above her sweater was fine as well, soft, milk-white and absolutely unlined.
Her eyes locked back on to mine, making me start, in spite of myself. ‘Since I closed the Healthcare division,’ she began, ‘the Gantry Group’s a lot easier to run. I can keep track of it all, no problem. Our financial control’s a lot better, thanks to Jan’s work. The books all balance; nobody’s been into the till and put themselves in danger of exposure.
‘Let’s start with the housing division. Remember that big conversion project with the old church in the middle of Glasgow? That’s finally under way; the councillors fell into line. I’ve got private housing estates at various stages of development in Milngavie, Whitecraigs, Houston, Bothwell, Troon, and Lanark, and a land bank to follow all that. I’m also doing a big refurbishment project for a housing association in Barlanark, funded by Scottish Homes and a couple of banks.
‘Then there’s the construction division. I’m working on a retail park development on the south side of Glasgow, on a small factory estate in Mossend, and on a specialist hospital. . geriatric. . in Stirling. I’m building a new section of dual carriageway on the A1 in East Lothian, and a lump of trunk road in South Ayrshire. Plus I’ve also just tendered successfully for a project to build a private industrial park in Cumnock.’
‘Do you think you might have any aggrieved rivals?’ I asked her.
‘No. I know my only competitor in that bid. He wasn’t trying too hard; he’d have been overstretched if he’d won it. He was really only in it to help me. I’ll scratch his back some time to make up for it.
‘Finally,’ said Susie, ‘there’s what I called managed investments. I had intended getting out of that sector. In fact I’ve sold off all the group’s industrial estate holdings, all our tenanted factories, to one of the big pension funds. But one of my private banking consultants came to me last May looking for funding for a major golf course, country club and housing development, promising me big returns on my capital, and fast, too; like double it in two years.
‘It looked good, but there were a couple of big downsides to it, so my natural reaction was to say no, and I did, at first. But my adviser told me who the other investors were; serious people with good records, all of them. So I decided to go with their judgement and put a chunk of money into it.’
‘How big a chunk?’
‘A lot less than I got for the estates; only a couple of million.’
I whistled; I knew from Jan’s work with the Gantry Group, just how big it was on paper, but I hadn’t really thought about it. I think of myself, and Prim as being fairly seriously rich, one way and another, but I realised that we weren’t in the same league as the redhead on my couch.
‘What were the downsides to the investment?’
‘One was that I didn’t know the guys who were running the project, but my consultant checked them out and said that they were okay. They’re a couple of entrepreneurs from Manchester, apparently, called Jeffrey Chandler and William Hickok. The other drawback was that the project isn’t in Britain.’
‘Where is it?’
‘It’s in Spain; not all that far from here, in fact. Near a place called Oyastraight, or something like that.’
‘You mean Ullastret.’
‘What?’
‘That’s how you pronounce it. Remember yesterday, and where we had lunch? It’s not that far away.’
‘Whatever. To tell you the gospel truth, Oz, that’s one reason why I decided to come to see you and Prim; so that I could go and see the place and check it out.’
‘Why? Isn’t it kosher?’
‘No, as far as I know it’s fine, but it’s taking longer to get off the ground than I’d hoped. They were supposed to break ground last September, and they reported that they did, but apparently the excavators turned up some archaeological treasure or other, and the government put a hold on work.’
This sounded like a familiar story; I’d been in Spain long enough to have heard others like it. What I had never heard of was a golf course development in Ullastret. . most other places, but not there. . but then I had been away from the Costa Brava for a while.
‘How much of the project are you in for?’
‘One third.’
‘And where’s the money?’
‘We had to lodge it in Spain. It’s being held by
something called the Banco Provincial, in Barcelona.’
‘Who knew you were coming over here, Susie?’ I asked her.
She gave another pondering frown. ‘Let’s see. Joe knows, Ann Hay, my deputy chief executive, she knows, and I told Brian Murphy. He’s the consultant who brought me the deal in the first place.’
‘How well do you know Murphy?’
‘Well enough. He’s never lost me any money and he’s given me some good introductions.’
‘What did you tell Ann Hay and Murphy, exactly? Where did you say you were going?’
‘I gave them your address, and I told Brian to make arrangements for me to visit the development next week sometime. I was planning to get you to take me.’
She broke off. ‘Oz, I don’t like where this is heading. Are you thinking. .?’
‘. . that what happened last night was linked to this project? It’s the only local connection I can come up with.’
‘But if someone was trying to get me, why would they do it like that. Why not just throttle me as I slept, or something like that?’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘I don’t know. But I’m sure that if this is linked to your project, the guys wouldn’t want it coming back to them. I’d guess that maybe the idea was to kill you by chucking you down the stairs, so that either it would be written off as an accident or I would carry the can.’ I gave her a quick reassuring smile. ‘Too bad for them you turned out to be bouncier than you look.
‘I also think,’ I continued, ‘that I might have interrupted the guy before he could do you any more serious damage. . if he meant to.’
Susie finished her second mug of coffee. ‘I should bugger off out of your road, shouldn’t I?’ she said. ‘Otherwise I’m putting you in danger.’
Maybe I should have taken my chance and gone along with that, but I couldn’t. ‘Bollocks to that,’ I told her, firmly. ‘If, and it’s a big fanciful if, last night was linked to your trip out here, and if someone is out to stop you from looking into this development, you’re safer with me now than anywhere else. They’ve tried. They’ve failed. They’re not going to chance coming back here again for another shot.’
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