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Back The Art of Dying Save as PDF
Chapters (90)
  1. PROLOGUE
  2. 1849
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. EDINBURGH
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  81. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  82. SEVENTY-NINE
  83. EIGHTY
  84. EIGHTY-ONE
  85. EPILOGUE
  86. HISTORICAL NOTE
  87. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  88. Extract from A Corruption of Blood
  89. 1850
  90. ONE

SEVENTY-ONE

logo missingaven leapt to his feet and began banging on the bars.

‘McLevy! Soutar!’ he shouted. ‘You need to act – someone is in danger!’

‘Aye, you if you don’t pipe doon,’ someone said.

Raven ignored him. ‘McLevy! Soutar! This is urgent!’

A man on the floor to Raven’s left looked up blearily from his puddle of vomit.

‘Haud your wheesht. There’s folk trying to sleep in here.’

Raven became aware that the stentorian snoring had stopped. He endured a moment’s concern that he might have incurred the wrath of whoever had been responsible for it, but it was far from the greatest of his cares. He resumed his hammering and shouting.

‘Hey,’ said another voice, to his right. He ignored that too.

‘Hey! I’m talking to you.’

There was an aggression to the tone that his instinct told him not to ignore. When Raven turned, he saw that he had unwittingly attracted the wrong kind of attention. There before him once again was the thief who had threatened him in Warnock’s Close. He had been apprehended too, perhaps having tried the same thing with a policeman nearby.

‘Aye. Me,’ he said, acknowledging Raven’s recognition. ‘And I would wager that you don’t have that fearful knife any more. But I wonder what remains in your pockets that you denied me before?’

Raven stood tall, bristling. For the second time that day, this cur had chosen the wrong time to cross him, for he was truly of a mind to beat a man with his fists.

‘Why don’t you come and take it from me then, you worthless wee skitter.’

His eyes locked on those of the thief, ready to read the signal that he was about to attack, whereupon Raven was felled by a blow from behind. Deliberately distracted by the man in front of him, an unseen confederate had caught him unawares from behind. There was a flash of light and pain as he took a blow to the back of the head, followed by a knee to the face as he fell. He was rolled onto his back and felt a heel to his ribs, then the thief was straddling him, rifling his pockets. He produced Raven’s pocket watch, holding it up on its chain for a moment before slipping it into his trousers. Then he produced his grotty little knife.

Raven’s eyes widened in horrified surprise.

‘Aye,’ the man said, raising it to strike. ‘It’s easier to hide a wee skelf.’