A Pound of Flesh

Chapter 42


Maggie listened as the dawn chorus began. A memorable night, he had said. Well nobody in Strathclyde Police would easily forget the night of Detective Superintendent Lorimer’s fortieth, would they? He had called her, of course, let her know why he had failed to return from that trip upstairs. The dancing had continued till well after midnight, Maggie watching the door to see if he would return before the last guests departed. She had made her lonely way to the empty room, taken off her pretty clothes and slipped ruefully into the new nightdress bought specially for the occasion. He had come back when the first stirrings of life had begun in the hotel, taking off his clothes quietly so as not to disturb her. But Maggie had been awake, full of questions, and so he had talked and she had listened, hearing the parts of the story he wanted to share. Tomorrow would bring more answers, he’d promised.

Till then Maggie lay listening to her husband breathing. Two more lives had been snuffed out tonight, one a man whose intentions appeared to be as vicious as the weapon taken from the wrecked car; the other a woman who had hidden her identity behind a façade, seeking to avenge the woman she had loved.

She looked at the sky that was visible above the buildings outside the hotel window. Then, as Maggie watched, the skies began to lighten, the moon unseen now behind a bank of clouds.