Sallowed Blood

Chapter Three

Chapter ThreeThey had to go to Edinburgh. Dad had announced this after spending some time on the phone, talking very quietly and very quickly, as if he were involved in some secret enterprise. Daniel wasn't particularly interested. He was spending what time he had left in his old house sorting through his belongings. What to take, what to give away to those he knew or to charity shops, what to sell…and, worst of all, what he had to throw away. Nothing else seemed particularly important to him.

He was sifting through his collection of DC comics when Dad came into his room, looking a little flustered. “We have to go away for a day or two,” he explained.

Daniel shrugged, not taking his eyes from a particularly spectacular Iron Man edition, “To Germany?”

“Scotland.”

“Scotland?” He sighed meaningfully. “Do I have to go?”

“Of course! Who will look after you if you stay here?” Dad reached down and ruffled his hair. “We have to get a train, and it leaves,” he glanced at his watch, “in about two hours, so let's move it!”

It was a glorious morning, the sun shining bright. They'd arrived in the city some time after seven the previous evening and had taken a taxi to their hotel. Daniel just let everything move past him in a sort of blur. He felt like a little dog, taken out on his lead, with no say in what happened or where they were going. One of the penalties, again, of being a teenager. So he stayed quiet and tried not to listen in to his dad's many telephone conversations. He had an urge to ask Dad to whom he was speaking. Every time he came off the phone, Dad seemed stressed and worried, with deep furrows appearing in his face. Whatever he was talking about, it obviously wasn't good.

After lunch, Dad told Daniel he had to go to a meeting and that he'd catch up with him down by the Ross Bandstand an hour or two later. Daniel was told – ordered, it sounded like – to sit on the mound in the Princes Street Gardens and wait. He agreed, knowing it would be safe. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of people all milling about in the Gardens. A real holiday atmosphere reverberated about the place, and Daniel stood next to a line of ornamental hedges, watching his Dad disappearing amongst the throng. Daniel wondered what meeting lured him away in such a hurry. Dad seemed different, preoccupied, obsessed with getting to wherever he needed to get to very quickly, even to the point that he was prepared to leave Daniel on his own in the park. It wasn't like Dad.

Trying not to think too much about things, Daniel spread himself out on the grass. He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. The sun beat down on his face and he let himself drift away, relaxed, and unconcerned. Time, trickling slowly by, was no longer important and he allowed the warmth, the distant hum of the people and a faint ringing of church bells to carry him far, far away.

He sat up with a start, groping for his mobile. He groaned when he read the time. He'd been asleep for over an hour. How was that [possible? He rubbed his face; it was wet, sticky with sweat. Where was his dad? He looked towards the statue of Robert Louis Stevenson. Beyond was the bandstand, but no band was playing, just a few people sitting around, eating and drinking. It all appeared very orderly, almost Edwardian. Children played, parents watched and smiled, couples cuddled in the warm grass. Somewhere nearby a dog barked with excitement. Then Daniel saw him, the German guy—the scary one, transforming that wonderful sunny day into something cold and menacing as fear gripped him, twisting through his stomach,

At first, he thought he was mistaken; the burly figure standing just to the side of the statue could have been anyone. And besides, why would he be here? How would he know where to come? But as the big man stepped out into full view, a sudden stab of panic seized Daniel by the throat.

It was Grüber all right, and he seemed to be waiting, the scowl on his face dark, menacing. He was here to confront Dad, no doubt about it.

Quickly, Daniel rolled over and got to his feet, keeping his back to the statue. With his head down, he walked away as naturally as he could in the opposite direction. He hoped not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, not sure whether the man had seen him, but not willing to find out by hanging around and looking at him. Instead he kept walking, over the mound, at a steady, even pace, resisting the urge to break into a run. No one gave him a second glance and soon, estimating he was far enough away, he slowed down until he almost come to a halt. He dropped to one knee and mimed tying a shoelace, while snatching a glance in the direction of the statue. He remembered how this man had walked up to him after the will, his face screwed up with anger. No, more like rage. But rage at what? What had Daniel done? He'd sat, this big man, too big for the chair, and hadn't spoken a single word throughout the entire reading of the will. However, he didn't have to speak to show what burned behind those hard eyes; he bristled with indignation, frustration … disbelief, even. And he'd spoken to Daniel afterwards with such … venom.

He narrowed his eyes and studied the figure more keenly, hoping against hope he'd made a mistake, but no. Daniel's heart thumped in his temples. No doubt about it, no mistake … it was Grüber. Those massive shoulders and square, closely cropped head gave him away. By the way he scanned the surroundings, it didn't appear that he had seen Daniel, which came as a monumental relief. Carefully, still anxious not to do anything too quickly and call attention to himself, Daniel sat down, bringing his knees up to his chest, and watched the big man from out of the corner of his eye, waiting.

Grüber stood like the statue beside him, impassive, unmoving. Had he followed Daniel and Dad here, all the way to Scotland? How else did he know that he and his dad would be in Edinburgh? Unless … unless he'd been on the other end of Dad's telephone conversations. That must be it. Everything fell into place, those snatched words, the shouting, Dad's agitated state. Grüber must have arranged to meet Dad here, but why? What was it he wanted, nothing out of the ordinary that was for sure because, even from this distance, the aura of danger, of threat emanated from his powerhouse of a body. Daniel noticed how people moved away from him as they approached, as if they sensed it too. Awful, sickening fear gnawed away at his insides. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Without warning, Grüber moved, with the grace and ease of a cat, so lithe and supple for someone so large. A dangerous man, not someone to cross. He'd seen something and Daniel sat up, craning his neck, desperate to see, sudden concern for his dad gripping him. He pulled out his mobile again. “Where is he?” he said out loud, the tension becoming tangible as his fingers hovered over the touch screen, preparing to call up Dad's number.

From the corner of his eye, Daniel spied him and he almost cried out with relief as Dad appeared at that exact, same moment. Not sure what to do, he hauled himself to his feet and watched Grüber take a forward, to block Dad's path. Before Daniel could do anything, Grüber was hailing Dad with a wave and a shout. Daniel, fear freezing his blood, immobilizing his limbs, wanted to shout out a warning to prevent something from happening, but already he could see it was too late.

Holding his breath, heartbeat pounding so violently and loudly everyone around must have heard it, he watched, wide-eyed as Dad stopped, not in the least surprised, and stuck out his hand in greeting. Soon the two of them became locked in an animated conversation. Daniel, bewildered, waited. Caution, tinged with a dash of curiosity, told him he shouldn't reveal himself, not just yet. He wanted to know what this was all about, so he moved closer, taking a circular route around the two of them When he got behind them he was close to the Ross Bandstand. He had a better view from here, and he could clearly see Dad's face. Gone was the previous, welcoming smile. He appeared flustered, angry almost. Grüber towered, and when his great shoulders tensed, Daniel felt sure there would be trouble. And suddenly, there was. Grüber stabbed a thick finger straight into Dad's chest, and Dad responded, fists bunching. For a moment there was stand-off, two rutting bucks measuring one another's strengths. Making his decision, Daniel knew he had to act, if not, violence would erupt. He spurred himself into action and ran towards them, raising his voice to shout, “Dad!”

Grüber turned and gave him a sharp look. It was clear he could barely contain his anger. Without a backwards glance, he stormed off, muttering something indecipherable. Dad, breathing hard, turned to Daniel as he came running up, blowing out his cheeks with exertion.

“Hey! There you are! Thought you'd got lost.”

Daniel took a few breaths. He needed to play this out with care, not reveal too much. “No. Been here for ages. Who was that guy?”

“Who? Oh,” Dad, never a good actor, seemed confused, his voice fractious and high-pitched. Daniel almost laughed at his Dad's pathetic attempts to feign bewilderment. “Oh, him? Don't know, just someone asking directions.”

A lie, and Daniel knew it. Why would Dad do that? To protect him, or to keep him in the dark? Either way, he had a right to know what was going on. He decided to try something, to see how much Dad would keep him in the mix, “I thought he might have been that man from the solicitor's? What was his name? Grüber. That's it. Was it him?”

For a moment, Dad paled. But he seemed to recover quickly, laughing nervously, “No, no, it wasn't him. Just looked like him, I suppose. Anyway, come on, we have to go and get something to eat.” With that Dad steered Daniel away, putting his arm around his shoulder.

But Daniel knew it wasn't true. Dad had lied, but why would he? What was he afraid of, and why wouldn't he take Daniel into his confidence? The thoughts disturbed Daniel. As he walked alongside his dad, he kept his eyes firmly to the ground.