‘Right enough, but how?’ Steffy repeated as she scratched thoughtfully at a scab on her arm, watched the blood pool, spat on her fingers and wiped it. ‘You should go down tae the Royal, go intae Accident and Emergency. Go now, show them the bruises. Then call the polis. Get him done for assault and battery.’

‘You mad, Steffy? That the vodka talking? Whit can they dae? It’s a domestic – they’d no get involved. Gie him a warning, mibbe.’ The vodka had hit home and Lizzie started to cry, ‘I miss my wee Duchess.’

Steffy reached across and patted her friend’s arm. ‘Aye hen, I know but there’s nae point in going to the polis about Duchess, it’s only a wee bird. They’d piss themselves laughing. And even though they hate his guts, they can’t really arrest him for killing it.’

Lizzie pointed to her friend’s arm. ‘Gonnae no get blood on my settee, Steffy, it’s no even paid for yet.’

‘Sorry hen.’ Steffy licked the blood from her fingers and then sucked at the scab.

Lizzie sipped her drink.

Steffy studied the scab. ‘Clean enough now?’

‘Aye, fine hen, but I want revenge for him doing this tae me and for killing ma wee bird.’

‘You’re your father’s daughter, right enough Lizzie.’

‘Mason forgets I know where the bodies are buried.’

‘Whit bodies?’ Steffy’s voice was too high.

‘No literally, ya numpty. It’s when you know a lot about somebody. Stuff that can get them into trouble.’

‘So, how’s that work then?’

‘Speak to somebody.’

‘Who?’

Lizzie blew a whorl of smoke into the air and watched it float. ‘Andy Doyle. If Mason’s going into business with wee Stevie Tenant, then it’s got tae be drugs.’

‘Thought you had tae marry intae the Tenant clan?’

‘Stevie must be expanding, going out on his own. My guess is the two of them are going up against Andy Doyle.’

Steffy coughed up some of her vodka, ‘Christ, Lizzie. Andy Doyle.’

‘Aye, I know,’ Lizzie agreed.

Steffy stubbed out her cigarette and reached for the bottle. ‘Let me just fill us up again hen – if you’re getting involved with Doyle, I think you’re going to need it.’

Outside the storm had returned and a thick curtain of rain fell from the dark sky. A flash of light accompanied a siren as an ambulance sped into the night, illuminating the road for an instant before plunging it back into semi-darkness.

Chapter 36

Mason stood in the shadows behind The Fern Hotel. There was a smoking shelter and a bin for butts but most of the smokers had tossed them onto the concrete. Stella had driven around the back of the hotel and parked the four-by-four. In the distance, the sound of a police siren faded into the night. Stella approached him. He bared his teeth in a smile. ‘Stella doll, good of you to come. Sorry we cannae meet in public.’

She waited.

He tried to make conversation, his voice friendly. ‘Did you not used to be called Maggie?’

Stella’s voice was sour. ‘What’s it to you?’

His tone changed as he tapped the video. ‘Stella, Stella, star. That why you changed it, you wanted tae be a star?’

Stella chewed gum, stared at Mason through narrowed eyes, waited.

‘Well, I suppose you have become a kind of a star, Stella,’ he paused. ‘You mind of Davey Tenant? Good-looking boy. Ended up doing time in the Bar-L?’

Stella waited.

‘That’s where we met,’ Mason continued. ‘He’s got a nickname in the jail – they call him Pretty-Boy. It wisnae very pleasant, if you get my drift, so Pretty-Boy needed a bit of protection. See, he needed to pay me to keep the worst of the vultures away from him. A boy that good-looking gets passed around. My protection cost, though. And Pretty-Boy didnae have much. Only one thing that he thought might be worth something. And it was on the outside. Any ideas what your ex-boyfriend had, Stella?’

Silence.

‘A wee home-made video. But I can get it copied onto a DVD. Anyway, I think the correct term for it is sex tape. You and him had a wee fling. Pretty-Boy Davey was specific about the dates.’

She waited.

‘See and the dates mean that you were two-timing Andy Doyle. Can’t think of him being pleased about that.’ Mason’s eyes shone. ‘What do you think, Stella-star?’

Her jaw moved rhythmically, gum being pushed around her mouth. ‘It was a long while ago. I was a different person then.’

Mason held out his hands palms up. ‘Fair enough, then Doyle won’t be too bothered that the lassie he’s shacked up with has the starring role in a wee home-made porn movie. See if this gets out, every gangster in Glasgow will be laughing at Doyle. How do you think he’ll take to that? Don’t know about you, Stella hen, but I’m guessing, not very well.’

Silence. Stella chewed, stared at Mason unblinking. Ground the heel of her shoe into the ground.

Mason continued. ‘The stuff ye get up to in that wee film, I wis dead impressed.’

‘Davey’s a bastard for recording us.’

Mason shrugged.

Stella chewed.

Mason kept his voice pleasant. ‘You on the stage now an all?’

‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

‘Mibbe it’ll help them see you in a new way. For different roles, I mean. More exotic.’ He cast a sly glance at her breasts, then held her gaze. ‘Ye understand whit I’m getting at?’

‘I’m already an actress, Mason.’ The rhythmic chewing, the steel in her voice, the hate in her eyes.

‘You did a good job of looking like you were enjoying it.’

‘Everyone’s had sex. It’s not a big shock.’ Stella’s voice held. Almost.

‘Aye, mibbe not, but you’re Doyle’s property now. And Davey Tenant’s wee brother Stevie is up against Doyle for territory. Think it’s getting a bit complicated? You having sex with the enemy?’

‘It’s not like Andy thought he was getting a virgin.’

‘Aye but what happens in private is one thing – see, this wee video nasty makes it public. See, it’ll look like you’re soiled goods. Kind of second-hand.’

Stella looked hard at Mason. ‘So, big shot, what is it you want?’

He reached across and stroked her arm. She flinched. ‘Don’t be like that, Stella doll, let’s keep this friendly.’

Stella grabbed his hand, dug her nails in. ‘Fuck off.’

Mason pulled back, saw that she’d drawn blood. ‘Okay, you want to keep it purely professional? Fine. I want six grand for this tape. Or,’ he held it up, ‘Doyle gets a private screening and gets to know the dates.’

‘So, what’s the payback time, a few months? Six?’

‘Oh no, Stella,’ Mason winked, ‘two days max. Forty-eight hours. It’s not that I don’t trust you but there’s no point in giving you time to make up some dross for Doyle. This needs to be kept fresh. Forty-eight hours, hen.’

Stella turned, crossed the dark car park and climbed into her four-by-four, the red sole of her shoe flashing. When she put the key into the ignition, her hand shook. She glanced at the CCTV camera above the exit, put her foot down on the accelerator and drove, missing Mason by inches.

Twenty minutes later Stella parked the car in the darkest spot behind the Smuggler’s Rest. She opened her mobile, punched in the number and waited for it to be answered. ‘Sonny, it’s Stella. I’m round the back. I need to ask a favour.’

A few minutes later, Sonny climbed into the four-by-four.

Ten minutes later he stepped out again and Stella drove off, alone.

Chapter 37

Wheeler sat on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand, Sonny Rollins on the CD, the track ‘St Thomas’ playing. She had left the blinds open and a crescent moon sat in the dark sky. The storm had passed and she watched the raindrops fall gently against the window panes. She had been thinking about James Gilmore and how, other than his mother, no one seemed to care very much that he was dead. Where were the friends and lovers who make up the substance and fabric of one’s life? She wondered who would be at his funeral. She had attended funerals where there had been standing room only and others where she had been one of two attendees. The other being the minister. She guessed Gilmore’s would be more like the latter, although his colleagues at Watervale Academy, St Austin’s and Cuthbertson High might get together to make a bit of a show. Maybe, but she hadn’t sensed any real friendship or warmth towards him from any of the other staff, not even from Nancy Paton.