Blood City by Douglas Skelton sampler

lood city
They had only been here 15 minutes but already the Glasgow winter
night was beginning to bite. Jack Frost wasn’t just nipping at his
nose, he was bloody well gnawing. Donovan’s ears were burning,
a phenomenon that had always struck him as rather strange. How
could you be cold, but feel as if someone was holding a match to
your ear? He would have pondered this conundrum further, but he
was too damn frozen to bother. Behind him he could hear the dark
waters of the canal lapping against the stone walls, but he knew
the sub-zero air would soon choke the life from the sound and still
the surface to ice. From where they stood beside the Forth and
Clyde Canal they could look across the dark sprawl of Firhill and
Maryhill. A thick frost floated over the city streets, making a white
carpet of the tenement roofs and sparkling diamonds of the street
lights. The grass at their feet was just beginning to whiten. But the
girl lying on it was already white.
His eyes flicked involuntarily to the broken corpse lying just off
the towpath. She lay on her back, her arms outstretched, one leg
bent under the other. Her skirt was tucked up around her waist, the
remnants of her ripped underwear lying beneath her. Her blouse
had been torn open and her bra wrenched away to reveal her
breasts. Donovan wanted to reach down and cover her, to preserve
at least some of her dignity, but knew that would be a cardinal sin.
Instead he looked away.
‘Fuck me, it’s freezing,’ said Jimmy Knight, stamping his feet on
the cold-hardened pathway beside him. ‘When they gonnae get this
show on the road?’
‘No be long,’ said Donovan.
‘Better fuckin no be, ‘cos soon they’ll have another two stiffs to
work wi if they don’t get their arses in gear.’
PC Jimmy Knight stepped closer to the girl’s body, rubbing his
gloved hands together to create some semblance of heat.
‘D’you know what the tragedy of this is?’ Donovan remained
silent, knowing his neighbour’s question was rhetorical. ‘D’you
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