The Bad Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

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    â€˜What items?’
    Caskie, who wore a dark blue suit that was a little too baggy for him, looked like a young man who’d been promoted beyond his experience. This situation was obviously awkward for him. In other circumstances, she might have been touched by his immaturity.
    He said, ‘Specimens of counterfeit money.’
    She laughed in disbelief. ‘Counterfeit money ?’
    Caskie had pleasing blue eyes, a detail she remembered only later. And he had a hard time looking at her.
    â€˜And you have to tear my whole bloody house apart to search for this alleged counterfeit money?’
    â€˜Some of the men are a little …’ and Caskie hesitated.
    â€˜They’re brutes, Caskie. They’re enjoying themselves, for God’s sake!’
    â€˜I admit they’re over-enthusiastic –’
    â€˜ Over-enthusiastic? Who do I sue for damages if you don’t find this alleged counterfeit money?’
    â€˜We try to leave things the way we found them.’
    â€˜And I sailed up the Clyde on a water biscuit. How do you put back broken vases and a broken mirror?’
    â€˜You’d be reimbursed for that kind of thing.’
    â€˜And my peace of mind – do I get reimbursed for that?’
    Caskie touched her arm. ‘We go through a rigorous process to get warrants like this, Mrs Caskie. They’re not handed out lightly. Usually we get them only when we’re sure.’
    â€˜And you’re sure, are you?’
    â€˜I’m not enjoying this.’
    â€˜Somehow I believe you,’ she said. She flicked her cigarette into the rain. ‘At least my children are at school and don’t have to see this demolition.’
    A uniformed policeman stepped out into the yard and gestured to Caskie. Caskie placed the umbrella in Flora’s hand and said, ‘Excuse me,’ and then he disappeared inside the house. She smoked another cigarette, listened to rain drum on the taut black skin of the umbrella. She cursed Jackie Mallon. She cursed him for bringing these men into her home.
    Counterfeit money. No. Stolen goods maybe, just maybe; she didn’t think he was beyond doing a dodgy deal concerning paintings, statues, antique jewels. But fake money was something else altogether, big-time crime against the financial structure of the country, against the bloody government. Serious business. Serious punishment.
    Caskie came back. ‘We found what we were looking for,’ he said quietly.
    Flora was dizzy , lost her balance, slipped against Caskie, who had to catch and hold her. She stood with her face pressed into his shoulder while he talked quietly and reassuringly about how his men were making the place tidy again, it wouldn’t be one hundred per cent but it wouldn’t look too bad.
    She stopped listening to his individual words. She liked the soothing sound of his voice.
    â€˜Do you know where your husband is?’ Caskie asked.
    She said she didn’t. It was true. He’d been gone for the last two days.
    â€˜Myself and another officer will wait for him,’ Caskie said. ‘And you can tell the children we’re here to investigate the break-in.’
    Jackie came home the evening of The Raid. He was arrested before he could enter the house. Cuffed on the street and tossed into the back of a car and driven away quickly; the kids didn’t see it happen. No charges were ever brought against him. His lawyer argued that the counterfeit notes had been planted by police officers who had long-standing grudges against Mallon because they suspected him of crimes they could never prove. The only charge they’d ever been able to make stick was the business of the stolen statues – and that case, the lawyer contended, was so thin as to be downright transparent. Besides, the evidence of involvement in a counterfeit scheme was circumstantial at best.
    Flora didn’t believe Jackie was innocent. He’d brought