Her fists clenched till the knuckles showed white. “Don’t give me that.” He lunged at her

Maggie protested. “But these children are minors,” she said. “Misdemeanours then: their involvement in Lucy Simmons’ murder, Willie’s drug dealing. Then there’s the activities of this Fatboy person – the pornographic material Lewis has just told us about…” “Hold on a minute,” Maggie stuck her head through the doorway. Kyle was fast asleep.

“Not to mention this Kym, her role in the whole business.” Brian paused for breath. “Need I go on?”

For a moment Maggie stood, chastened. When you heard it listed like that, it did seem like an awful lot. All the same, wasn’t it her job to stand up for the kids in her care?

“Don’t bother,” she backed off as far as the confined space would permit. “It’s obvious we’re not going to agree, so…”

“You couldn’t be more right,” Brian responded in an exasperated voice.

“Look,” his tone softened, “it’s not that I’m completely lacking in empathy.

“Of course I feel for those kids. Who wouldn’t? For you too, come to that. You’ve landed yourself in an impossible position.”

She looked up. Met his gaze. “Don’t I know it.” He grimaced. “I think we both know.” “What’s to be done, then?”

“I need to get these kids along to Queen Street. Pronto.”

“But Chisolm…” Maggie countered. She had a mental vision of her last run-in with the inspector.

“Tell you what…” Brian saw his opportunity to get back in her good books.

“Why don’t I step outside for a minute? Give the DI a ring? Try to smooth the path, so to speak, before this lot,” he jerked his head at the huddle of small boys, “have to be interviewed.”

He cast his eyes heavenwards. “You, too, Maggie Laird.”

Drugs raid

“You come for a kid?” Fatboy’s frame filled the doorway. He ran through the routine: right eye, left eye, right eye again. Focused somewhere in the middle.

“No,” Maggie wheezed. Knowing it would take time to launch a drugs raid, she’d doubled back from Brian’s flat to Esplanade Court only to find the lifts were still out of order.

“What then?”

“I’m a…” Play for time. Her palms were sweaty, her face filmed with perspiration. “I’m a friend of Kym’s.”

“Friend?” Fatboy scoffed. “Didn’t know she had any friends.”

“You learn something every minute.” She offered an ingratiating smile. “She here?”

“No. Only me. Kids have been picked up. Kym’s gone walkies. Left me in the lurch.”

Get yourself established. Maggie summoned her courage. “I’ll come in and wait, then.”

“Don’t know about that,” Fatboy eyed her with suspicion. “I’ve never laid eyes on you before.” She shrugged. “I could say the same about you.” “Well, you can never tell who’s on your doorstep in a place like this.” He cocked his head. “How is it you know Kym?”

Keep it vague. “Oh,” she responded airily, “Kym and me, we’ve mucked about together for ages.” She took a decisive pace forward. “I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“Better not be. She’s left her keys and there’s no way I’d leave the door on the latch.”

“I could hold the fort till she gets back,” she offered. “Let you get on.”

“We-ell, I’m not sure.” Fatboy took a backwards step. Go for it. Maggie slipped past him and marched down the hall.

Shabby

She found herself in a living room dominated by a shabby sofa and an oversized TV set. Off this space, there was a small kitchen.

Insinuate yourself. “Now I’m here,” she smiled, “maybe we should introduce ourselves?” Fatboy ducked his head. “I’m just a mate.” “Boyfriend?”

“Nae chance.”

“So,” Maggie persisted, “if you’re not Kym’s boyfriend, what have you been doing up here this past while?”

Oh, hell, she was going head-on again. “Don’t know what you mean.”

She spoke through clenched teeth. “I think you do.” “Nope.”

Too late now. “These party games…” Fatboy’s head shot upright. “Where did you get that from?”

“Never you mind.”

“Some kid, was it?”

Despite herself, Maggie blinked.

“Because you don’t want to listen to little kids.” Her hackles rose. She abandoned all pretence. “Little defenceless kids. Little kids that have been billeted on some spaced-out child minder.”

Fatboy’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you and Kym were pals.”

“Yes, well…”

Fatboy thrust his face in Maggie’s. “You’re not a friend of hers at all.”

“I’m…”

He gave her a rude shove. She reeled back. Caught her knees on the edge of the settee. Sat down with a dull thwack.

Fatboy loomed over her. “Just what are you doing here?”

Lord. I’ve done it again – jumped in without thinking. She steeled herself.

“I’ve just told you. I want to know what’s been going on in this flat.”

“Kym’s been minding kids on the QT.”

“I’m well aware of that. What I want you to tell me is what you’ve been doing.”

Fatboy smirked. “Watching Cbeebies.”

Her fists clenched till the knuckles showed white. “Don’t give me that.”

He lunged at her.

Gripped her by the throat.

“Listen to me!” Maggie struggled to free herself. She fought for air, her breath coming in short gasps.

Fatboy kneed her, forcing her back on to the settee. His full weight was on her now, the pressure on her neck relentless.

Around her the room was whizzing.

Stars shone before her eyes.

The last thing she remembered was Fatboy’s voice. “No, you listen to me.”

Satisfying

Kym wandered up St Machar Drive. She’d bought a half-bottle of vodka in the Spar. It was lying in her bag sending out “drink me” signals.

Now she was looking for some place to sit down. She frowned. She was sure there had been a bench at the top of Dunbar Street, but she must have got it wrong.

She crossed the road and made her way down the High Street to Wrights and Coopers Close.

The small memorial garden was protected by stout stone walls. It would make a braw corner for a bevvy.

She settled herself on a wooden seat, fished into her bag for the vodka bottle, took a satisfying slug.

She could feel the liquid burn its way down her throat to warm her innards.

Whoa, she settled back in her seat, that’s better.

More tomorrow.

Cross Purpose (£8.99) is the first in Claire Macleary’s Harcus & Laird crime trilogy, featuring an unlikely pair of middle aged female private investigators. The second, Burn Out, and the third, Runaway, are available now. All published by Saraband Publishing https:// saraband.net