The Book of Souls (Inspector McLean #2)(24)

‘Don’t you even start. I suppose you want to talk to him.’

‘Actually, I was hoping I might be able to borrow him for the evening.’ He glanced at the dark clouds, the empty, lamp-lit back street. ‘What’s left of it.’

‘Please, take him. He’s only getting in the way here. Just promise to bring him back.’

‘OK, Rae. It’s a deal. Tell him I’ll be in The Arms in half an hour.’

Putting his phone away, McLean voiced an unheard thanks that he’d caught Rachel in a good mood. Lately, as the impending wedding loomed slightly closer, she’d taken to calling him at the oddest of times to ask him stupid questions. Had he organised the stag night? Did he have a partner for the wedding? What was she going to wear? He could only pity Phil. His ex-flatmate and best friend was surely having to endure ten times worse.

Even allowing the time it took to grab a kebab and eat it in the steamy warmth of the shop, McLean still made it to the pub first. He was halfway down his pint before the swinging doors drew in a blast of chill air and the gangly, unkempt figure he’d been expecting.

‘You’re late.’ McLean held up the full glass that had once been twin to his own. Phil took it, draining enough to match in one long gulp.

‘Cheers, I needed that.’ He wiped foam from his upper lip and smiled. McLean thought he looked tired, the creases round his eyes less from laughter than from lack of sleep. ‘Christ, sometimes I wonder what possessed me.’

‘Rachel getting that bad, eh? She sounded all right on the phone.’

‘No, not Rae. Sure she’s a bit obsessed, but she makes up for that in other ways.’ Phil smirked, something of his old self showing through. ‘No, it’s the lab. I thought being a professor meant sitting in my office all day reading papers, making life miserable for undergrads and waiting for the invitations to international conferences to come in.’

‘And it’s not?’

‘Hell, no. I’ve got a budget the size of a small banana republic, a staff of overpaid academic prima donnas, each of whom needs their ego massaging at least once a day, and that’s not to mention the committees. Health and safety, public relations, ethics. I can’t remember the last time I actually picked up a test tube. What’s so funny?’

‘You.’ McLean slapped his old friend on the back. ‘You sound almost grown up.’

‘Yeah, well, I guess. People depend on me.’

‘Tell me about it. Sounds a lot like being an inspector. Technically I’m a detective, but half the time all I’m doing is telling sergeants and constables what to do.’

‘At least it’s only half the time. Here, let me get another one in.’ Phil had finished his pint, and McLean drained what was left of his, waiting patiently whilst it was replaced. They took their bounty to a table far away from the noisy jukebox blaring out old eighties’ tunes.

‘So, you’ve got your best man speech sorted, I take it?’ Phil asked.

‘Can’t I just wing it?’

‘Depends on whether or not you want to live out the day, mate. You’ve not seen Rachel when she’s roused.’

‘Perhaps I’d better do something about that then. And I guess there’s your stag night, too. Any idea what you want to do?’

‘As long as it doesn’t involve too many of your police friends.’

McLean feigned a hurt look. ‘What’s wrong with them?’

‘Individually? Nothing at all. Bob’s a good laugh. That young lad, Mac-whatsit – a bit earnest, but he’s got promise. Big Andy’s useful in a pub quiz team. But you know, get them all together at once and it can get a bit out of hand. I used to think undergrads drank too much.’

McLean remembered Big Andy Houseman’s stag night, and knew what Phil was talking about. Put a bunch of off-duty policemen together in the same place as large quantities of alcohol and it was never likely to be pretty.

‘I’ll keep the uniform count down, Phil. You can trust me on that.’

‘What’re you planning then. Ten-pin bowling and curry? Skating at Murrayfield? A lap-dancing club down in Leith?’

‘And you wish.’ McLean made a mental note to get started on organising something. It was only six months since Phil had asked him to be his best man, after all. ‘Rachel will kill me if I do anything involving women, you know.’

‘Of course. But she doesn’t need to know. Anyway, Jenny’s got something outrageous organised for the hens. She was asking, by the way. Wanted to know if she should ask Emma along, to get to know some of the other girls, you know. So she’s not completely lost come the day.’

‘I don’t know.’ McLean took a long sip of his beer, uncomfortable at the way the conversation had turned and not quite sure why. ‘I’ll have to ask her.’

‘What? You mean you haven’t asked her already? You have asked her, haven’t you? Tell me you have. Rae’ll have a fit if she thinks the best man’s coming single.’

‘I will, Phil. I promise.’

‘I don’t know, Tony. What is it with you two anyway? You seemed right pally for a while back there. Then ... what?’

‘Shifts, the job. I don’t know, Phil. Maybe I’ve just got used to being single.’