Never Somewhere Else Read Online Free PDF Page B

sentence nine years ago and then nothing!’ And in that nothing, Lorimer added to himself bitterly, his life had presumably taken a downward turn after doing time and he had ended up in Glasgow amongst the other flotsam and jetsam to be found on the shoreline of every big city. ‘Okay, the old man might not have had much to add to his comment about the ambulance anyway. But I’d liked to have tied up his statement with this one from Alison Girdley.’
    Lorimer brandished thefile at the officers then turned on his heel.
    The girl had obviously had one hell of a fright, but there was a strength in her which had made her calm enough to answer questions sensibly. Even now a photofit was being made up on the memory she had of the face in the dark. Some of her tape recorded comments were in his mind now, chasing each other around like gerbils on a wheel as he strode down the corridor.
    ‘He opened his mouth as if …’
    ‘As if?’
    ‘As if he was yelling at me. But there was no sound.’ Then later: ‘I saw his teeth in the dark. They were so white.’
    Gently DS Wilson had asked questions. He had led the girl back into the depths of her experience, patiently going over details once again when she faltered. His fatherly smile and reassuring voice would have helped her to know that here she was safe. Despite re-living the dark and terror she had been able to give some description.
    Wilson had asked questions about his features. ‘Very short hair. Cropped. Stylish, I suppose. And dark, I think. I didn’t see too well. He had dark hairs on his arms. I remember that. They were bare under the white coat.’
    Lorimer tried to picture the snarl, the vicious lunge with the chain. If Alison Girdley hadn’t had such swift reactions … but then she was coming home from her karate club.
    ‘As if he wasyelling at me.’
    Didn’t they do that in combat sports? Wasn’t there some underlying psychological instinct which made an attacking warrior yell at his opponent? Thundering cavalry charges had screamed as they approached their enemy.
    Lorimer smiled slightly as he pushed open his office door. Psychological instincts indeed. Well, he knew who could make something out of that.
    Solly was patiently explaining the theory of behaviourism to his first-year students.
    ‘You see it’s
learned
behaviour. It’s a process of cause and event, or what you might call mental association. The rat associates lever-pressing with pellet-receiving. Press a lever: a pellet appears. If the pellets were not to appear then the rat’s behaviour would change. It could no longer associate the lever-pressing with receiving a pellet.’
    ‘But wouldn’t he
remember
?’ one student enquired.
    ‘Ah, now, memory. That would come under a different topic,’ began Solly. At that moment the telephone rang and five pairs of eyes watched Solly’s face as he picked up the receiver.
    ‘Ah … yes … well …’
    The students sat mutely, ears strained to pick up any crumbs which would give them a clue to the nature of the conversation.
    ‘No … that’s quite all right.’
    He listened for a few moments more then replaced the receiver.
    ‘Yes, quite a different topic altogether …’
    The students sighed in unison. Solly’s single-minded approach was legendary. He was impossible to divert once he had taken an idea down a particular road.
    Sometimes, Solly thought,people were afraid to look for the obvious. There was something endearing about the human mind which hared off in the direction of the tangled thicket when there were open spaces to gaze at instead.
    ‘Yes, Chief Inspector, American Indians.’ Lorimer’s eyebrows had shot up in scepticism at the psychologist’s suggestion. ‘A warrior brave would certainly do his utmost to appear terrifying: face paint and body paint carried symbols of ancestral spirits which were believed to give the warrior power. But it’s more than that. It’s the disguise which can overpower the enemy. The