Water of Death Read Free

you?”
    I handed the grass to Davie. We watched the miscreants get into the Youth Development Department van then I turned back to get my gear.
    â€œThe future of the city,” Davie said morosely as he caught up with me. “Giving these headbangers special treatment is only going to make them harder to control later. Anyone caught with black-market drugs should be nailed to the floor like in the old days.”
    â€œHand that stuff over for analysis, will you?” We both knew that wouldn’t make any difference. The guard’s no longer permitted to give underage citizens the third degree so they probably wouldn’t find out where the grass came from. I shrugged. “Stupid bastards. I told them to keep their distance but they had to have a go.”
    Davie laughed. “They weren’t the only ones. You sorted them out pretty effectively, Quint.”
    â€œI’ll probably end up on a charge. Unwarranted force.”
    â€œI don’t think so. I’ll be writing the report, remember.”
    The citizens under the trees were pretending they’d gone back to sleep. Davie’s presence was making them shy. Even in the recently approved informal shirtsleeve order, the grey City Guard uniform isn’t the most popular apparel in Edinburgh. The woman came to reclaim her vouchers, flashing me a brief smile of thanks. She probably thought I was an undercover guard operative.
    â€œI’ll give you a lift home,” Davie said as we headed for his vehicle. “What were you doing here anyway?”
    â€œTrying unsuccessfully to find somewhere cool in this sweat pit to read my book.”
    â€œWhat have you got?” Davie took the volume from under my arm and laughed. “ Black and Blue ? Just like the state of your knuckles tomorrow morning.”
    â€œVery funny, guardsman.”
    â€œIsn’t it that book on the proscribed list?” he asked dubiously.
    â€œThe Council lifted the ban on pre-Enlightenment Scottish crime fiction at the end of last year. Don’t you remember?”
    â€œI just put a stop to crime,” he said pointedly. “I don’t read stories about it.”
    â€œThat’ll be right. You said something about taking me to my place?”
    Davie wrenched open the passenger door of one of the guard’s few surviving Land-Rovers. “At your service, sir,” he said with fake deference. “Number 13 Gilmore Place it is, sir.”
    But as things turned out, we didn’t make it.
    Tollcross is as busy a junction as you get in Edinburgh. A guard vehicle on watch, a couple of Supply Directorate delivery vans, the ubiquitous Water Department tractor and a flurry of citizens on bicycles constitute traffic congestion these days. There was even a Japanese tourist in one of the hire cars provided by an American multinational that the Council did a deal with. He was scratching his head. The lack of other private cars in the streets was obviously worrying him.
    â€œWhy were you frying yourself in the Meadows, Quint?” Davie asked. “There are bits of grass around the castle that actually get watered. It’s quieter there too.”
    I looked at the burly figure next to me. He was still wearing the beard that used to be required of male auxiliaries even though the current Council’s made it optional. God knows what the temperature was beneath the matted growth.
    â€œQuiet if you don’t mind being stared at by sentries,” I replied. “Since they moved the auxiliary training camp away from the Meadows, it’s become a much more relaxing place.”
    â€œArsehole.” Davie was shaking his head. “Anyone would think you hadn’t spent ten years as one of us.” He laughed. “Till they saw how handy you are with your fists.”
    My mobile rang before I could tell him how proud I was to have been demoted from the rank of auxiliary.
    â€œIs that you, Dalrymple?”
    I let out a