Page 58 of Between the Lies

‘I will find the truth. I’m sick of dancing to everyone else’s tunes. Screw evidence. We humans don’t work on logic or facts. We strive on emotions. If what you’re saying has a shred of truth to it, this was a crime of passion, of someone wanting something desperately. The answer doesn’t lie in facts. It lies in human emotions.’

Robert turned away, uncaring of the scene he was causing or the heads he was turning. ‘I don’t expect you to understand or to help me. But you won’t change my mind.’

‘I understand.’ Cheryl clutched at her crossbody purse. ‘I understandexactlywhat you’re feeling. You might think you’re doing the right thing. You might even think she’s not to be blamed. But at the end of the day, she’s broken the law. Don’t let your career be another of Nina Banerjee’s victims.’

Nina hadn’t done anything illegal except for trying to keep herself alive.

But Cheryl wasn’t done. She tugged at his arm. ‘You’re not a detective, Robert. This is not some fictional?—’

‘You’re right. And as I’m not part of the CID elite, I don’t play by your rules.’ Robert huffed, his heart cracking just a little. But he was done. For once, he knew his mind, and he wasn’t going to bend to someone else’s whims. ‘Goodbye,’ turning his back on them, he stalked away.

And this time his friends didn’t chase him.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

‘Woah, lady!’

Nina cursed and leaped out of the way. The cyclist zoomed past her, his middle finger raised.

That addled head of hers was going to cost her.

Nina would kick herself if it wouldn’t make her look demented.

After gaining her freedom, she’d found a wee, temporary hotel room since Dickheadson had warned her to stay in the area and had spent the next couple of days lying low, plotting her next move. While they couldn’t yet prove her guilt, Nina still sat on the top of the suspect pile.

While the old Nina would’ve been on a warpath to finding out the truth, the Nina who’d recently slept with Robert was more cautious, and this morning had chosen to go for a walk upon waking, meandering through the curving paths of Glasgow Green. She’d passed a few fir trees decorated with the odd ornament, the string of tinsel draped over them now sodden and torn, thanks to the weather. Just like her and Robert. She recalled his eyes, watching her like she’d hacked his heart out. After everything they’d been through, he still believed she’d murdered his wife.

Maybe she hadn’t given him enough credit. After all, he’d acknowledged that he thrived on human emotions. Perhaps his kindness towards her had been his way of manipulating her. Entice a woman starved of human touch and she’ll spill her darkest secrets the next minute.

Had he tattled on her to his pals? Called in the police and had her arrested?

Whatever the explanation was, it had reinforced her beliefs about staying away from people. No relationship could weather all storms. Eventually, a thunderbolt would strike it down.

Nina shoved her hands into her pockets and crossed underneath the McLennan Arch – the site of Glasgow’s last public hanging. It served as a good reminder for what she’d have in store if she gave into temptation. After all, McLennan had been executed for murdering his wife – there was an irony somewhere in that equation.

Nina crossed the wide street and rushed past the High Court to a place she’d only visited once: Billy’s Bar. This early in the day, the site appeared deserted. Good – she didn’t want any eavesdroppers. When Nina pushed the door, it groaned before swinging so hard it smacked straight into the back wall.

Nina winced.

‘Kitchen opens at noon,’ a voice boomed through the space.

Without its patrons crowding the tables, the area looked much larger. The murky brown walls, a dark bar and equally dark floors gave the space a cosy look instead of the dingy feeling she’d had the last time she’d been here. Her feet still stuck to the floor, and the smell of malt still hung in the air. At least it wasn’t the smell of smoke. They’d banned smoking in pubs a year before she’d set foot in the UK, thank God.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, then she spotted Billy right away. He stood at the back of the bar cleaning a few glasses.

‘Billy! How are you?’

Billy flashed her a grin. ‘Much better now that a lass like you’s here to see me.’

Nina tilted her head. ‘Who said I was here to see you? I thought you served lunch.’

A snort was his only response. Then Billy used the glass in his hand to point towards the stool by the counter.

After casting a glance towards the empty tables and chairs, then at the door, Nina sat her butt down. The stool creaked and tilted, almost toppling her over. Nina gripped the counter and righted herself.

Again Billy snorted. ‘And you wonder why I think you’re here to see me. You, lassie, aren’t someone I’d peg as a patron of a pub such as this one. I?—’

A young woman wearing an apron over black leggings and a T-shirt that said ‘Glaschu’, her blond hair swinging in a ponytail, emerged from the door behind the counter that led to Billy’s office. ‘Billy, do you know—?’ On seeing Nina, she froze, her eyes widening.

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