finished.’
Gilchrist ignored the demand.
Patterson leaned forward, so his face came out of shadow. At that low angle, his pockmarks looked like tiny scars. ‘Unfortunately, we need to go through a PR exercise,’ he said. ‘I’ve prepared a press statement giving your reasons for stepping down.’
‘Which are?’
‘Your health.’
‘What’s wrong with my health?’
‘The Stabber case has taken its toll on you, Gilchrist. You’ve been advised by your doctor to take some rest.’
‘Nervous breakdown? That sort of thing?’
‘Well done. Any more of this and you’ll go up in my estimation.’
‘Would that please me?’
Patterson’s jaw twisted, sending a ripple of shadow across his cheeks.
Gilchrist pressed both hands flat on the edge of the desk. It gave him an odd sense of pleasure to see Patterson look up at him. ‘I don’t like it,’ he said.
‘It doesn’t matter what you like, Gilchrist.’
‘It does to me.’
‘You’ll do as you’re ordered. For God’s sake, man, St Andrews has been the focal point of the national news ever since that royal brat set foot in the place. And while he’s here, the last thing we need is a serial killer racking up his score because of your incompetence.’ Patterson’s nostrils flared, and Gilchrist had an image of fire and smoke billowing over the desk. ‘Whether you like it or not, Gilchrist, you will take medical leave.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my health.’
‘I know that, for Christ’s sake.’
Gilchrist shook his head. ‘I won’t do it.’
‘All right,’ said Patterson. ‘If that’s your decision.’
His manner was too calm for comfort. Gilchrist waited for the sting. It came in the following breath.
‘Let me put it this way, Gilchrist. Medical leave gives you the chance to have your job back when the case is solved.’
Gilchrist felt anger burn his face. The thought of grabbing Patterson by his hair and slamming him nose first onto his desk was almost irresistible. ‘And if it isn’t?’
Patterson seemed not to notice Gilchrist’s emotional struggle, and shrugged. ‘Alternatively, we could just fire you.’
‘For what?’
‘Incompetence. Insubordination. Poor time-keeping. Screwing secretaries. Like me to continue?’
‘That’s your prerogative.’
‘I’ve never liked you, Gilchrist. You’ve always known that. But others more senior than I seem to hold you in high esteem. They value your abilities as an investigator, of all things.’ He chuckled. ‘Mind boggling, if you ask me.’
Gilchrist almost laughed. He saw it now. Patterson wanted to fire him, but his hands were tied by others more senior. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ he said. ‘I’m off the case. Not for medical reasons but because you think I’m incompetent, the worst DI in the history of Fife Constabulary.’
Anger flared in Patterson’s eyes, held for a moment, then vanished. It really was amazing to follow the man’s thought process. Patterson pushed his seat back and stood, as if to intimidate Gilchrist. But at five-ten, he was a good three inches shorter. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but you’ll have to suffer the consequences.’
‘For what?’
‘Your failure to perform.’
‘And the consequences are?’
‘Demotion.’
Gilchrist walked away.
‘Get back here, Gilchrist. I’m not finished with you yet.’
Gilchrist reached the door, opened it, then faced Patterson. ‘I’m doing you a favour by stepping out of the way, Mark. So don’t push your luck.’
‘I’m warning you, Gilchrist—’
‘Do you know what your problem is?’
Patterson’s head jerked.
‘You’re so hell-bent on trying to even some imaginary score that you’ve forgotten what the game’s about. But let me tell you this. One word about a nervous breakdown, and I’ll sue you personally. I’ll hit you so hard you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to play the game in the first place.’
Gilchrist eased the door shut and took the stairs two at
Gilchrist ignored the demand.
Patterson leaned forward, so his face came out of shadow. At that low angle, his pockmarks looked like tiny scars. ‘Unfortunately, we need to go through a PR exercise,’ he said. ‘I’ve prepared a press statement giving your reasons for stepping down.’
‘Which are?’
‘Your health.’
‘What’s wrong with my health?’
‘The Stabber case has taken its toll on you, Gilchrist. You’ve been advised by your doctor to take some rest.’
‘Nervous breakdown? That sort of thing?’
‘Well done. Any more of this and you’ll go up in my estimation.’
‘Would that please me?’
Patterson’s jaw twisted, sending a ripple of shadow across his cheeks.
Gilchrist pressed both hands flat on the edge of the desk. It gave him an odd sense of pleasure to see Patterson look up at him. ‘I don’t like it,’ he said.
‘It doesn’t matter what you like, Gilchrist.’
‘It does to me.’
‘You’ll do as you’re ordered. For God’s sake, man, St Andrews has been the focal point of the national news ever since that royal brat set foot in the place. And while he’s here, the last thing we need is a serial killer racking up his score because of your incompetence.’ Patterson’s nostrils flared, and Gilchrist had an image of fire and smoke billowing over the desk. ‘Whether you like it or not, Gilchrist, you will take medical leave.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my health.’
‘I know that, for Christ’s sake.’
Gilchrist shook his head. ‘I won’t do it.’
‘All right,’ said Patterson. ‘If that’s your decision.’
His manner was too calm for comfort. Gilchrist waited for the sting. It came in the following breath.
‘Let me put it this way, Gilchrist. Medical leave gives you the chance to have your job back when the case is solved.’
Gilchrist felt anger burn his face. The thought of grabbing Patterson by his hair and slamming him nose first onto his desk was almost irresistible. ‘And if it isn’t?’
Patterson seemed not to notice Gilchrist’s emotional struggle, and shrugged. ‘Alternatively, we could just fire you.’
‘For what?’
‘Incompetence. Insubordination. Poor time-keeping. Screwing secretaries. Like me to continue?’
‘That’s your prerogative.’
‘I’ve never liked you, Gilchrist. You’ve always known that. But others more senior than I seem to hold you in high esteem. They value your abilities as an investigator, of all things.’ He chuckled. ‘Mind boggling, if you ask me.’
Gilchrist almost laughed. He saw it now. Patterson wanted to fire him, but his hands were tied by others more senior. ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do,’ he said. ‘I’m off the case. Not for medical reasons but because you think I’m incompetent, the worst DI in the history of Fife Constabulary.’
Anger flared in Patterson’s eyes, held for a moment, then vanished. It really was amazing to follow the man’s thought process. Patterson pushed his seat back and stood, as if to intimidate Gilchrist. But at five-ten, he was a good three inches shorter. ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but you’ll have to suffer the consequences.’
‘For what?’
‘Your failure to perform.’
‘And the consequences are?’
‘Demotion.’
Gilchrist walked away.
‘Get back here, Gilchrist. I’m not finished with you yet.’
Gilchrist reached the door, opened it, then faced Patterson. ‘I’m doing you a favour by stepping out of the way, Mark. So don’t push your luck.’
‘I’m warning you, Gilchrist—’
‘Do you know what your problem is?’
Patterson’s head jerked.
‘You’re so hell-bent on trying to even some imaginary score that you’ve forgotten what the game’s about. But let me tell you this. One word about a nervous breakdown, and I’ll sue you personally. I’ll hit you so hard you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to play the game in the first place.’
Gilchrist eased the door shut and took the stairs two at
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