sorry, boss,’ Sutherland grinned at him then laughed and winked as though he knew exactly what sort of business a man got up to at this time of the morning in this part of the city. Waving, the DI rejoined his pals and Lorimer watched them disappear over the brow of the hill and on down towards Sauchiehall Street.
Cursing under his breath, Lorimer made his way across the now empty square and down towards Pitt Street. There was no sign of any woman waiting for custom tonight so he pulled up his coat collar against a sharp wind that had begun to knife his face and started to trace a circuit around the square. Shadows from the darkened streets fell across his path and, looking up at the street lamps ahead, Lorimer could almost imagine the female figures from his earlier dream. But there was no flesh and blood female here tonight to take the place of these spectral figures. Sighing, he decided to take a stroll downhill just in case he ran into any of the regular girls before turning back for his car.
Lorimer was almost level with the entrance to police headquarters when he slowed down to look up at the building. The street might be deserted but lights from one of the offices above shining into the night showed traces of a human presence. Someone was doing a spot of overtime. His eyes followed the levels back down to the reception area and the darkened stairwell that led to the main hall where he had addressed the men and women from the press.
Suddenly his feet came to a halt. He had seen that woman in his dream before. And it was inside this very building. She was the stranger amongst the regular journalists who came daily, gathering for titbits like the rude starlings clustered around his bird table.
Lorimer frowned, making twin creases between his dark brows. Something wasn’t right, though. He was now certain that he had seen her in a different context, though where and when was a mystery. And, for some reason that he could not explain, it was the image of the first woman wrapped around that street lamp, her blonde hair tied back, that kept coming into his mind.
Maggie Lorimer groaned in her sleep as her husband slipped back into bed. Pulling the sheets over his body, Lorimer wished he could cuddle in to her warmth, but that would mean waking her up and he didn’t want to be so selfish. Tomorrow was not just a working day for them both: Maggie had all the preparation and work for her school’s Burns Supper. She’d mentioned that new woman, Lena or something her name was, trying to muscle in on what was for Maggie a pleasurable activity. She’d not been too happy about the supply teacher staying on, had she? Well, you couldn’t always choose your colleagues, he thought, remembering the drunken DI grabbing his arm in the street. Sutherland would have a whopper of a hangover in the morning and with a little luck would have forgotten all about seeing his boss in the passing.
CHAPTER 26
‘Best idea is to speak to the warden at Robertson Street,’ Helen James told him. ‘Mattie Watson. Want me to square it with her?’
‘That’s probably a good idea,’ Lorimer replied. The warden was known to keep her charges under her wing like some sort of mother hen and Helen James had spent months cultivating a friendship with the woman.
‘Do you feel well enough to come along with me if she okays it?’ he added suddenly.
‘I don’t think so,’ the DCI replied. ‘The girls can be a tad unpredictable and I don’t feel strong enough to cope if any of them become nasty.’
‘Oh?’
‘Well,’ James continued, ‘not all of them look kindly towards the police. See us as out to get them, if you know what I mean.’
‘But you’ve done such a lot to help them,’ Lorimer insisted.
‘Aye, well, not all of them know that, do they? And there are girls coming on to the scene all the time who don’t know me from Adam. Look, why don’t I ring you back once I’ve spoken to the warden? Then you can talk to her yourself. See if you can use some of your legendary charm.’
She chuckled as she put down the telephone, wondering if the man who had been chosen to head up the Serious Crimes Squad had any notion of how his presence might go down at the drop-in