Pilgrim Soul Read Online Free PDF Page B

offence.’
    At the word, his guard dogs perked up, as though Sanny had said ‘rabbits’. Their juices were running at the thought of some action. Preferably some violent action.
    ‘A man who wants no trouble in his life wouldn’t dream of giving offence. I just want a word.’
    Carmichael’s brain whirred for a while; then he turned to his men. ‘Mind the bag. Let’s take a wee donner, Brodie. I could do wi’ some air.’
    We walked out into the street. Sanny seemed to have got shorter. He was barely up to my shoulder. The cold air rushed at us and he pulled his coat tight.
    ‘First right, Brodie.’
    We walked past his corner scout, who looked at us askance, querying what his boss was up to. We turned round the corner and into a quiet side street. Carmichael walked purposefully along the
road and pushed into a crumbling café. A warm fug of smoke, hot fat and sweaty clothes wrapped itself around us like a sticky blanket. There were six tables. We had a choice of six.
Carmichael steered towards the one farthest from the window and door. A swarthy man in a manky pinny nodded at Carmichael and inspected me.
    ‘Twa teas, Bertie. The big yin’s paying,’ said Sanny as he took a seat. Two mugs of tea materialised, hot and grey, like thin kaolin. Carmichael filled his with sugar.
    ‘Now, whit’s goin’ on, Brodie?’
    I told him about the nine thefts and the cocky gasman. Carmichael stirred his tea throughout the explanation. I kept waiting for his spoon to come to a halt in the syrup.
    ‘. . . and your name came up, Sanny, as someone who might be aware of – shall we say the
flow
of goods?’
    ‘Is that a fact? And who gave you ma name, might I ask?’
    ‘Inspector Duncan Todd.’
    ‘I ken Todd. So he finally made inspector? No’ a bad lad. A left-fitter, mind. And he’s wrang aboot this. But, haud on, Brodie. Why the fuck should Ah tell yous
anything?’
    ‘For a quiet life, Sanny. Todd needs to meet his quotas. New inspector? You know how it is. I talked him out of raiding your very well-known set-up here on the strength of you giving us a
wee nod in the right direction. It would be seen to be a help, Sanny. And you could be left in peace.’
    He sat back and chewed his tea for a while. ‘That’s a kind o’ blackmail, Brodie.’
    ‘Between friends? It’s more a kind of
you help me, I help you
.’
    He leaned forward. ‘Once a cop, always a bloody cop.’ I waited. Sanny drummed on the table with his fingers. ‘Ah’ve heard McGill’s got some new stock in.’
There was a hiss from my cup. He got up and walked out, leaving his fag floating in my tea.
    I had a name. Interestingly it was one of the other names Duncan had given me. Whether it was the right name or not, I’d aim to find out on Monday.

SIX
    O ver the weekend Sam and I began tidying up the house in advance of the first inspection by our new housekeeper.
    ‘I’d be ashamed to let Izzie Dunlop see this place. The state of it.’
    ‘Isn’t that the point?’
    ‘Just carry the hoover upstairs, Douglas, and don’t be difficult.’
    The rest of the time we spent dodging questions about Sam’s impending assignment in Hamburg. I could tell she was both anxious and excited by the challenge. I didn’t want to terrify
her by recounting my own experiences. She didn’t want to talk about it in case it turned out as horrible as she expected.
    On Monday morning I set out for McGill’s. The pawnbroker is an essential part of Glasgow life. He oils the machine that permits the working man – or more often, the
non-working man – to live from one week to the next in the absence of five bob for food or a shilling for the electric. He’s the bridge that connects one slim pay packet with the next,
when an unsuccessful flutter on the dogs or a successful session on a Saturday night in the Drouthy Drover has left a mortal dent in the readies.
    As often as not it’s the woman that wears out the path between her home and the sign of the