Back Where the Bodies are Buried Save as PDF
Chapters (49)
  1. Also by Christopher Brookmyre
  2. COPYRIGHT
  3. Contents
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgements
  6. The Loneliness and the Scream
  7. Jasmine Screws Up
  8. Whodunit
  9. The Presence of Absence
  10. Machinery
  11. The Long View
  12. A Whole Child Ago
  13. Motives
  14. Baby Steps and Dainty Feet
  15. Higher Powers
  16. Asylum
  17. This Dark Place
  18. View from a Dead End
  19. The Mercy of the Court
  20. Run to Ground
  21. Explosive Information
  22. The Abandoned
  23. Played
  24. Witness
  25. Identity
  26. Fire-Damaged
  27. Lost in the Swamp
  28. Darken the Memory
  29. Naming the Sins
  30. Stolen Glances
  31. Beyond the Visible Spectrum
  32. The Biggest Gang in Glasgow
  33. Infrared and Sonic Boom
  34. That Golden Rule
  35. Quiet Little Voices
  36. Clarity
  37. Listening to Fear
  38. Locust in Flight
  39. Phantoms
  40. Secret Trades
  41. Names on a Page
  42. Two Porcupines Making Love
  43. Sins of the Father
  44. Old School
  45. A One-Way Trip to the Campsies
  46. Family (i)
  47. Family (ii)
  48. Forgiveness
  49. Four Words

There’s a lot of cops just like them. They’ve done their thirty, they’re approaching retirement and they’re skint despite working hard all their lives, yet every day they see these chancers driving about in their pimped four-by-fours, spending money like water.

She felt like the walls of the room were expanding away from her, once again the world’s dimensions altering so that things around her no longer quite fitted the way they used to. Nothing was certain any more. Clark’s Law was in tatters, the good guys were very, very bad guys, and here she was on the same side as not only her bête noire from Locust, but one of the few people on this earth towards whom she harboured genuinely murderous feelings.

It seemed, under the circumstances, way past time that he showed her his.

‘You said someone tried to kill you on Wednesday, down south?’ she asked.

Jasmine nodded eagerly; Fallan just stared.

‘Bob Cairns threw one of the very few sickies of his entire police career on Wednesday. As you put it, Mr Fallan, I’m disinclined to believe these incidents are unrelated. This thing at Central station took planning. It took care, patience and above all, discretion. So with all that on his plate, on the day before the big operation, why would Bob Cairns be driving down to Northumberland in the hope of killing you?’

‘Because it’s no use having a share in a three-mill drug score if you’re going to spend the rest of your life in jail.’

Fallan looked to the girl and gave her a gesture as though to say ‘the floor is yours’.

Catherine felt an anxious pang of anticipation, wondering whether this ceding of control meant he was coming through with the quid pro quo.

The girl said her piece.

Was he ever.

Sins of the Father

Ruaraidh Wilson stood with his back to them, staring out on to St Vincent Street through his office’s imposing triptych of towering windows. Catherine was reminded of his conduct in court, turning his back thus while he mentally composed a rebuttal in that most unusual of circumstances: a question or an answer he was not expecting.