With her hair hanging loose to her waist and striding as confidently as a man, Hairy Meg made quite an impression in the Bell Street Police Office. She crossed the Duty Room with a smile on her face, sat opposite Watters, placed her elbows on his desk and cupped her chin in her hands. “Well go on, then, Sergeant. What do you want to ask me? It"s about that murder, isn"t it? That Forsyth fellow.”
“It is,” Watters said. “I want to trace the murderer, and I hope you can help me.”
“Aye,” Meg said, without allowing her gaze to stray from Watters" face. “I liked Andy Forsyth.”
Watters tried to hide his surprise. “How well did you know him?”
“As well as you know anybody who shares your bed,” Meg said.
Watters signalled to Duff to start taking notes. “When did you meet him?”
“Every fourth We
