The Complaints

‘What was the name of the chippie near us?’ Fox was frowning in concentration, but his father thought for a moment and shook his head.

‘Can’t help.’

‘Maybe I should ask Lauder Lodge if there’s a room there for me…’

‘You’ll get it eventually.’

‘The room, or the name of the chippie?’

Mitch Fox smiled at this. He’d had enough to eat, so offered the remainder to Malcolm, who shook his head. They rose to their feet and started walking. Mitch was stiff at first, but tried not to show it. People they passed either nodded a greeting or said hello. There were plenty of gulls around, but Fox dumped the remains of the food in a bin instead.

‘Are Hearts home or away?’ Mitch asked.

‘Couldn’t even tell you who they’re playing.’

‘You loved going to a game when you were a kid.’

‘I think it was the swearing I liked. And I’ve not been to a match all season.’ Fox’s father had paused again, leaning against the sea wall.

‘Are things really okay, son?’ he asked.

‘No, not really.’

‘Do you want to tell your old man about it?’

But all Malcolm Fox could do was shake his head.

They found a pub and went inside, Mitch selecting their table while Malcolm fetched the drinks – a sparkling water and a half of IPA. His father asked him how long it was since he’d had a ‘real’ drink, and confessed that Audrey Sanderson kept a supply of brandy in her bedside cabinet. Fox sat in silence for a minute, then took a deep breath.

‘Do you really want to know why I stopped drinking?’

‘Because you realised it was going to end up killing you?’ his father guessed. But Fox shook his head.

‘After Elaine left, I took to it hard. Kept pestering her, to the point where I could probably have been done as a stalker. I went round to see her one night. I’d had a skinful, and I ended up punching her.’ He went quiet, but his father wasn’t about to interrupt. ‘She could have had me prosecuted. My career would have been in tatters. When I phoned her to apologise… well, it took some persuading before she’d even talk to me, and then all she said was “stop drinking”. And I knew she was right.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ Mitch asked quietly. ‘Why now?’

‘Because of what happened to Vince,’ his son explained. ‘I’ve always hated him, hated the way he treated Jude, but now that he’s dead…’

Mitch waited for Fox to make eye contact. ‘You’re not like him,’ he stated. ‘Don’t go thinking you are.’

They settled back to watch the football on TV, staying for the results. It was five o’clock and nearly dark when they emerged. Fox drove his father back to Lauder Lodge in silence, receiving a firm look from one of the staff members. Mr Fox, it transpired, was late for supper.

‘Lucky we’ve kept it for you,’ the woman advised.

‘That’s debatable,’ Mitch muttered, stretching a hand out towards his son. The two men shook.

On his way home, Fox thought about stopping and buying some flowers for A

CALL ME WHEN YOU GET IN.

Fox took out his phone but then paused, tapping it against his teeth. He locked the door after him and got back into his car. Five minutes later, he was parking on the street outside Breck’s home. The houses had their own driveways and garages, meaning there was plenty of space kerbside. It struck him, though, that the surveillance van really must have stood out because of this. As he pressed the remote-locking button, he noticed that a young woman was just coming out of Breck’s, shrugging her arms into her coat and wrapping a scarf around her neck. She was heading towards Breck’s Mazda, but saw him and managed to place him. She gave a wave and a smile.

‘Just nipping out for pizza – do you want any?’

Fox, halfway down the path by now, shook his head. ‘It’s A

She nodded and got into the driving seat. ‘There’s a bottle of wine open,’ she informed him, giving another wave before driving off. Fox rang the doorbell and waited.

‘Forgotten something?’ Jamie Breck was asking as he opened the door. Then his eyes widened. ‘Oh, it’s you.’ He was dressed in T-shirt and denims, his feet bare. There was music playing – it sounded vaguely Brazilian to Fox.

‘Didn’t mean to interrupt,’ Fox began.

‘A

Yes, Malcolm, good question… ‘I thought I knew the street,’ he explained. ‘Then I just got lucky – saw A

‘So now my guilty little secret is out.’

‘She’s your girlfriend?’ Fox deduced.

‘Yes.’

‘Does Giles know?’

‘I reckon he suspects, not that it’s a state secret or anything. It’s just that we’ll both take a ribbing when it gets out.’

‘What rank is she?’

‘Detective constable – her surname’s Cartwright, if you want to keep things nice and formal.’ Breck broke off again. ‘Come in, won’t you?’

Fox followed him inside. The place had a very modern feel – well decorated and laid out. The music was coming from an MP3 system and there was a flat-screen TV attached to one wall. The lights had been dimmed but Breck powered them up again. On the floor by the sofa sat a wine bottle, two glasses and Breck’s shoes and socks.

‘Look, I don’t want to interrupt anything,’ Fox said.

‘Not a problem, Malcolm. I think I’m still in shock from yesterday – how about you?’

Fox nodded and slipped his hands into his coat pockets. ‘You had something to tell me?’ he prompted.

Breck had collapsed on to the sofa. He stretched out a hand towards his wine glass and lifted it to his mouth. ‘It’s your friend Kaye,’ he said before drinking.

‘What about him?’

‘A

‘You were saying about Tony Kaye…?’

Breck sloshed the wine around in his glass. ‘Remember you told me about your sister’s mystery visitor on the Monday night?’ He stared at Fox above the rim of the glass.

‘Kaye?’ Fox guessed.

‘Seems that a “concerned citizen” called to let police know of a car parked illegally in Jude’s street – one front and one back tyre up on the pavement.’ Breck managed the faintest of smiles. ‘You’ve got to love Edinburgh’s army of nosy parkers.’ He lifted a remote control from the sofa and used it to turn down the music. ‘Anyway, they called it in and eventually someone noticed it. Turns out our concerned citizen had made a note of the make and model of car, plus a partial registration. Nissan X-Trail.’

‘That’s what Tony Kaye drives.’

‘And his registration matches.’

‘Partially,’ Fox stressed.

‘Partially,’ Breck conceded. ‘But it’s enough to satisfy Billy Giles.’

Fox thought for a moment. ‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ he said.

‘Maybe not.’ Breck took another mouthful of wine. ‘Anyway, I thought you’d want to know, since Kaye doesn’t seem to have mentioned it to you himself.’

Fox didn’t know how to answer, so nodded slowly instead. ‘Does he know he’s been rumbled?’

‘His presence at Torphichen has been requested first thing tomorrow. ’

‘Giles has the team working a Sunday?’

‘He reckons the budget will stretch to it. Will you stay and have some pizza?’

‘I can’t. Listen… thanks for letting me know. I wouldn’t want A