Read Online Dark Suits and Sad Songs by Denzil Meyrick - Free Book Online

integrating their new inhabitants into the community, these towns and villages found themselves increasingly blighted by the same problems that had prompted this urban exodus in the first place. Doors once left unlocked were firmly bolted; the friendly faces in the street turned into those of people the locals neither recognised nor liked the look of. The smart tenement flats that lined the main streets, where well-to-do merchants once brought up their families became dens where crime and depravity flourished, and from which only grasping landlords profited.
    Malky Miller was a fine example of this. He had been placed in ‘community care’ by social services when he was seventeen, then moved to Kinloch, where he could be more closely monitored by social workers and hopefully given a fresh start away from the influence of his troubled family. In his second week there, a friend of his had caught the bus from Glasgow and brought Malky his first haul of drugs to sell. Now, two years on, with many customers and much less danger than in the city, Malky had become one of Kinloch’s most affluent dealers.
    Today, he was going up a level; such was his success that he was being rewarded with a visit from the boss, or someone so close to the boss that it made no difference. He had tidied up his flat in anticipation. Consisting only of a living room with a curtained-off galley kitchen, a tiny toilet and shower room, and a bedroom just big enough to contain the double bed, this housekeeping hadn’t taken long. Sweaty, and a bit shaky after his exertions, he sat on his large recliner and stared at the huge flatscreen TV that dominated the room and was, apart from the Audi A3 parked down the street, one of the few trappings of his financial gain. Had the children of Glasgow’s deprived families been properly educated and mentored, some of them would undoubtedly have become captains of industry, such was their acumen for business. The ruthlessness and greed that drove Malky differed little from his peers working in financial services all over the world, though it was just possible that Malky was a more likeable person, a trait that made him good at selling.
    Fighting the desperate desire to shoot up – he wanted to be straight for his visitor – he sprang up from the recliner and walked across the room. In front of an old fireplace sat a three-bar electric fire which Malky reached behind to produce a black cloth bag. He looked into it and smiled. The heft of notes, drugs and requisite paraphernalia felt good in his hand; though not his only stash, this was his biggest. He checked them all, many times, every day, just to make sure they were there. He replaced the bag behind the fire, stood up, felt dizzy, then returned to the recliner as quickly as he could. He hoped they would come soon. He needed a fix.
    *
    ‘Welcome back, Brian.’ Annie held her arms out wide as Scott walked into the County Hotel’s vestibule. ‘How’re you daein’?’ She was genuinely pleased to see the detective.
    ‘I’ll be doin’ a lot better when I get a dram or two doon my neck. That bloody road doesnae get any better.’
    ‘Here, gie me your cases, I’ll get Bobby the cellar man tae take them up tae your room. C’mon in an’ get a bite tae eat, an’ a refreshment, tae. After a’, it’s nearly twelve, an’ you’ve had a long journey.’ Annie ushered him into the wood-panelled bar. ‘Whoot time is Mr Daley expecting you?’
    ‘Och, dinnae worry aboot oor Jimmy. He knows the score. I’m on light duties for the next few months, so I’ll just ease myself in tae things gradually.’
    ‘Here’s the menu,’ Annie said, sitting Scott at a table near the bar. ‘Noo, whoot can I get you tae drink. On the hoose, mind.’
    ‘Good stuff, Annie, I don’t mind if I do. A dram, please, better make it a double, since you’re offering.’ DS Scott smiled and sat back in his seat. The drive to Kinloch had been longer than he remembered. The road was