killed my sister, you cunt." Brian was banging him rhythmically against the wall. Weird tried to force his hands away, but the other man was far stronger.
"I never touched her," Weird howled. "It wasnae us."
"Well, who the fuck was it? Youse were the only ones there," Brian raged. He released Weird's parka and raised his fist. "Let's see how you like it, cunt." He smashed a right hook into Weird's jaw and followed it with a crushing left to his face. Weird's knees gave way. He thought the bottom half of his face was going to come away in his hands.
It was only the beginning. Suddenly feet and fists were flying, thumping cruelly into his body. Blood, tears and mucus streamed down his face. Time slowed to a trickle, distorting words and intensifying every agonizing contact. He'd never been in a grown-up fight before, and the naked violence of it terrified him. "Jesus, Jesus," he sobbed.
"He's not going to help you now, you big streak of piss," somebody shouted.
Then, blessedly, it stopped. As suddenly as the blows ended, silence fell. "What's going on here?" he heard a woman say. He lifted his head out of the fetal crouch he'd adopted. A WPC was standing over him. Behind her, he could see the constable Alex had fetched through the snow. His assailants stood around, sullen, hands in their pockets.
"Just a bit of fun," Brian Duff said.
"Doesn't look very funny to me, Brian. Lucky for him the landlord had the good sense to call this one in," the woman said, bending down to peer at Weird's face. He pushed himself into a sitting position and coughed up a mouthful of snot and blood. "You're Tom Mackie, aren't you?" she said, understanding dawning.
"Aye," he groaned.
"I'll radio for an ambulance," she said.
"No," Weird said, somehow getting his feet under him and tottering upright. "I'll be fine. Just a bit of fun." Speaking, he discovered, took an effort. It felt like he'd had a jaw transplant that he hadn't learned how to work yet.
"I think your nose is broken, son," the male cop said. What was his name? Morton? Lawton? Lawson, that was it.
"It's OK. I live with a doctor."
"He was a medical student the last I heard," Lawson said.
"We'll give you a lift home in the patrol car," the woman said. "I'm Constable Hogg, and this is Constable Lawson. Jimmy, keep an eye on him, will you? I need to have a word with these morons. Colin, Brian? Over here. You others? Make yourselves scarce." She led Colin and Brian to one side. She was careful to stay close enough to Lawson for him to dive in if things got out of hand.
"What the hell was that about?" she demanded. "Look at the state of him."
Slack-jawed, glassy-eyed and sweating with exertion, Brian gave a drunken sneer. "Less than he deserves. You know what that was about. We're just doing your job for you because you're a bunch of useless twats who couldn't detect your way out of a paper bag."
"Shut up, Brian," Colin urged. He was only marginally more sober than his brother, but he had always had more of an instinct for staying out of trouble. "Look, we're sorry, OK? Things just got a bit out of hand."
"I'll say. You've half-killed him."
"Aye well, him and his pals didnae leave the job half-done when they started it," Brian said pugnaciously. Suddenly, his face crumpled and hot tears trickled down his cheeks. "My wee sister. My Rosie. You wouldnae treat a dog the way they treated her."
"You've got it wrong, Brian. They're witnesses, not suspects," Janice said wearily. "I told you that the night it happened."
"You're the only ones round here that think that," Brian said.
"Will you shut up?" Colin said. He turned to Janice. "You arresting us, or what?"
Janice sighed. "I know you buried Rosie today. I was there. I saw how upset your parents were. For their sake, I'm willing to turn a blind eye. I don't think Mr. Mackie will want to press charges." As Colin went to speak, she held up a cautionary finger. "This only works provided you and Cassius Clay here keep your hands to yourself. Leave this to us, Colin."
He nodded. "OK, Janice."
Brian looked astonished. "When did you start calling her Janice? She's not on our side, you know."
"Shut the fuck up, Brian," Colin said, syllable by pointed syllable. "I apologize for my brother. He's had a wee bit too much to drink."
"Don't worry about it. But you're