Chapter 4

Mark had the album out ready and waiting before Flick rang the bell of his apartment. He wondered about the two of them, on/off lovers for more than three years now. Neither of them seemed able to make that final commitment, to become an exclusive item. He knew there was something special about her, otherwise, why did he keep going back? He didn't do that with any of the many other women he hooked up with.

Mark opened the door and managed a tired smile at the vivacious brunette.

"You got here fast. How many speed limits did you break?" he asked.

"You know me. I don't drive fast, it's more like I fly low," Flick joked.

She spotted the picture album sitting on the table and took a seat on the sofa to begin going through it.

"Tea, coffee or juice?" Mark asked.

"Nothing for me, baby. I haven't got long, there's a shoot up in St Andrew's that I need to be at this afternoon," she replied.

Mark made himself a cup of coffee and then re-joined Flick in the sitting room. He watched her concentration as she flicked through the pages of the album she had made for him after their months of stake outs. It wasn't long before she gave a little cry of triumph.

"This one! This is Duncan Hamilton," she said.

Mark looked at the pic she was pointing to. There was nothing remarkable about the face that was in half profile. Short brown hair and plain features gave the young man a nondescript appearance.

"Here's a better one," Flick said, pointing to a second pic of Duncan Hamilton. "And here's his brother too."

Mark looked at another two pics and immediately saw the family resemblance between the two Hamilton brothers. These pics were face on and Mark knew he would recognise the two men now if he saw them again. He leaned over and carefully extracted the pics from the album.

"Thank you gorgeous, I guess all I need to do now is find out a little bit more about them. I think a little call to DI MacIntosh might be in order," he said.

"Okay, let me know how you get on. I really do need to dash," Flick said.

"Are you sure I can't tempt you to stay for a little exercise?" Mark leered.

Flick paused and he could see she was giving his suggestion serious consideration.

"No, sorry, I'll need to take a rain check. This shoot is really important, it's for one of the biggest selling sports magazines and I've got my mortgage to pay," she replied eventually.

"Sell your flat and move in here with me," Mark suggested impulsively.

There was another pause as both of them were surprised by his comment. Mark didn't know where the suggestion had come from, but having made it he found he quite liked the idea. Flick's left eyebrow raised as she stared at him. Mark had never given any suggestion about the possibility of a serious relationship before now and his offer caught her completely on the hop.

If the truth were told, she would have moved in with him several years before if he had asked her. Flick's hesitation and her on/off relationship with Mark were all down to a belief that he would never be serious about a girl. She realised she would need to think about this startling development. Was he really asking her to move in or had it just been an off the cuff remark, a throw away line?

"That's a pretty tempting offer, baby and I'm really going to have to think about it for a while. Somehow I just can't see you getting into the whole commitment thing that easily, you know? We do 'exercise' pretty well together and it's tempting, but I really do need to get moving."

Flick stood and gave Mark a quick peck on the lips before sweeping out of the apartment. Mark stood rooted to the spot for a few minutes after she had left. He had really asked Flick to move in with him? She hadn't said no either, but her comment about his lack of commitment was a killer. Mark knew only too well how women became frustrated with him for that exact 'character flaw' as they saw it. He realised that he found the idea of having Flick around very appealing indeed. His offer had come out of nowhere and he had to admit to himself that his subconscious seemed able to read his feelings for her only too well, making him blurt out the invitation without thinking.

His bachelor lifestyle had certainly been fun over the years, but what did he have to show for it? What legacy was he leaving behind in the world? If he died today, who would mourn his passing? When all was said and done, he was basically a sad, lonely figure with little love in his life. The fun was all illusory, short-term stuff, and certainly not shared in any meaningful way. Try as he might it was difficult to even remember some of the women he had bedded or to conjure up any kind of meaningful memories of his time spent with them.

Flick was different. Mark knew they connected on many different levels and what few good memories he was able to bring to mind were all ones of time spent with Flick. What if she was willing to move in with him? Would it work? Could he see them together in five, ten, twenty years time? Mark realised he had a smile on his face at that question - the idea of being with Flick really did make him happy. A picture of both of them together and young children playing around them sprang into his head.

"Whooah! Let's not take this too far!" he cautioned himself.

"Asking her to move in is one thing, but kids? I'll end up frightening the poor girl to death!"

He decided that he really would need to try and persuade Flick to give living with him a try at least, but perhaps he would keep any talk of children out of his offer.

Mark shook himself and lifted the phone to call DI MacIntosh, a stupid grin still plastered all over his face.

Drew looked closely at the two photographs the journalist had given him. If it wasn't for the fact that he recognised several of the other characters in the pics, he wouldn't have believed that Roddy and Duncan Hamilton had anything to do with the resurgence of the Cullen and O'Reilly gangs.

His initial enquiries had turned up squat! His colleagues in Dundee had taken a few days but eventually were able to provide Drew with a little more information on the two brothers. They were from the Camperdown area of Dundee, not far from the city's two football ground - Tannadice Park and Dens Park. They had attended Glebe High School for the pre-requisite four years and then left, subsequently having a number of years employed in various supermarkets.

The Dundee detectives carried out some light touch investigation as a courtesy to Drew and were able to confirm that the Hamilton brothers hadn't been involved in any crime as far as they could tell. Having spoken to friends of the brothers, they were able to verify that Roddy and Duncan had moved South to Glasgow seeking better work.

"Well I did say that these guys were smarter than the average criminal, but they look so squeaky clean it's hard to imagine they could be running two of Glasgow's hardest gangs," Drew thought to himself, still staring at the photographs of the brothers.

"What happened to turn these two Dundee nothings into two big time Charlies here in Glasgow? How do you flit from being a supermarket worker with no history of crime to running an organisation that's behind drugs, prostitution and god knows what else?"

MacIntosh glanced at the clock on the wall of his office and roused himself. He grabbed his raincoat from the peg on the back of the door and made his way through Stewart Street station to find his car. He had arranged to meet Mark MacGhee at 3:30pm and if he didn't hurry he was going to be late.

Mark sat in the restaurant that was part of the service for visitors to the Burrell art collection. The huge art collection had been bequeathed to the city of Glasgow in the 1940s by Sir William Burrell, a very wealthy industrialist who had collected art from all around the world.

The collection contained an important assortment of medieval art including stained glass and tapestries, oak furniture, medieval weapons and armour, Islamic art, and artefacts from ancient Egypt and China. There was also impressionism, work by Degas and Cezanne, modern sculpture and countless other pieces - an amazing array of objects and all collected by one man.

Unfortunately, the art was somewhat lost on Mark. He sipped a cup of coffee and looked out through the restaurant's glazed front onto the lawns in the courtyard of the Burrell museum building. His thoughts were very much on Flick, a habit he had been falling into more and more over the past few days.

There had been no opportunity to see her since she had been at the apartment and he found himself coming up with excuses that would give him a reason to phone her. It didn't occur to him that merely phoning to ask her out would have been reason enough - old habits die hard it seems. None of his ideas sounded all that plausible and he had therefore put off making a call. Now he hoped his meeting with DI MacIntosh might give him information to start back on the trail of the mysterious men behind the Glasgow gangs - that was guaranteed to bring Flick back into his life.

Mark saw MacIntosh weaving his way through the tables to join him. The detectives face gave no hint of whether he had good news or bad news, perhaps a legacy of his day to day work where he would give nothing away to his adversaries.

"Good to see you, Mark," MacIntosh said as he took a seat.

A waitress bustled over and Drew ordered coffee and a Danish. The two men exchanged small talk until the order was delivered and they had privacy.

"So, what have you found? Have I given you the vital clue you need to open this up?" Mark asked eagerly.

"What you've given me is more of a headache than a cure to be honest," Drew replied "I can see from your pictures that the Hamilton brothers are associating with known gang members here in Glasgow, but they have no form whatsoever."

"I thought that was the point you were making to me months ago?" Mark queried.

"I know, I know. But this is like nothing I've ever seen before. These two have got no known links to any criminals or any criminal activity at all. I can't figure out how two young men, barely twenty years of age, have gone from stacking shelves in a supermarket to being 'Mr Big'."

"Have you tried the Dundee end to see if there's anything of interest in their background?" Mark asked.

Drew gave him a withering look that made it clear the question was both stupid and insulting.

"Of course I did! What do you take me for, a rank amateur? The Dundee police gave them a clean bill of health on all counts. Not even anything juvenile, nothing," Drew answered.

"Maybe you haven't gone back far enough?" Mark suggested.

Drew gave him another dirty look, but then considered Mark's question a little more.

"If we go back any farther it would mean going into their school records. I really don't have time for that, there are plenty of other cases to look at in Glasgow you know. No, I'm convinced there's nothing in their past - it's their future that will give me what I need to collar them. I'll let them play their little games. Sooner or later they'll make a mistake, they always do. Now I know who they are, their cards are marked," Drew sighed.

Mark realised he was extremely disappointed. He had hoped that MacIntosh would give him something more to go on, something he could get his teeth into and something that would justify calling on Flick. The detective's apparent lack of enthusiasm for taking things any further drained his own excitement away.

MacIntosh was a busy man and he didn't hang around the museum long. Mark hunched over this coffee, trying to think of something that would cheer him up. He knew that modern day journalists were held in contempt by many. They were seen as lazy and sensationalist, often merely visiting a company's website to read their press releases and reporting almost word for word what they read.