He hesitated. Started looking around. The café was beginning to fill up. Maybe he was worried that someone was watching. Like who? He seemed satisfied, dropped his head again and said, “Maybe six months after the lass was born.” He looked ready to start glancing about again. Then gave me an explanation for his sudden attack of nerves. “You know about Jennifer Furst’s family, of course?” “Oh, aye. I’ve had my dealings with…Mary’s godfather.” Always came back to that bastard. I tried not to let Wickes see how I felt about Burns. Wickes said, “He’s something of a legend, aye?” I shrugged. “They say a lot of things about David Burns. If only half of them are true –” “– Then he’s the devil himself.” Wickes looked around the café, as though coming out of sleep, realising where he was. Caught the eye of the wee waitress, waved her over and ordered a fresh coffee. She looked at his mug with a strange expression as though she couldn’t figure why he hadn’t finished the last one.
