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<h2>11</h2>
<p>A biting north wind whistled round the straight edge of Loch
View, which stood with three other high-rise blocks on the edge of
town. The low pressure which had brought rain and sleet had moved
off slowly into the North Sea and behind it, a ridge of clear high
pressure dragged the freezing air down from the edge of Greenland,
frosting the night sky as temperatures plummeted. The wind made the
wires of the gantry moan as it plucked the steel braids with icy
fingers and rocked the platform slowly back and forth half-way up
the sheer side of the building.</p>
<p>Under normal circumstances, Jock Toner would have been mightily
peeved that he was still up in the rig on a dark and freezing
night. But the circumstances had changed. He'd been one of the team
of bricklayers repairing the worn concrete on the side of the
building which had weathered away like hard peeling scabs under the
weight of the winds. The gantry was suspended from a winch on rails
on the flat top of the block which allowed the men to be lowered
and raised at the touch of a button on the winding motor.</p>
<p>It had been cold work all day. The wind hadn't stopped and even
in the clear air, tiny ice crystals had whipped around the corner
of the building, whirling in the turbulence, to sting the men's
ears raw.</p>
<p>Ordinarily, Jock would have been home by now, probably dozing in
front of the television, or maybe down in the County Bar for a
couple of straight whiskies. He'd been last man to leave the hut,
and was just about to start up his old battered Ford when the
council's clerk of works had shown up unexpectedly. He'd pointed
out that the gantry had been lowered to the ground.</p>
<p>"What do you want me to do about it?" Jock had asked
truculently.</p>
<p>"Basically, I want you to get it right back up the top again,
where nobody can mess about with it."</p>
<p>"My shift finished half an hour ago," Jock argued.</p>
<p>"Well, you've got a choice. You can go home now and I can call
the works manager and get him out in the middle of the night," the
fellow had responded easily.</p>
<p>"It's six of one to me. I'll let him know you insisted he got a
call out. Either way, there's no way that thing can sit out for the
rest of the night. Any kid could climb on and start the motor."</p>
<p>He looked at Jock levelly, with a small smile.</p>
<p>"So, should I call the boss out?"</p>
<p>Jock let out a sigh of annoyance.</p>
<p>"No. I'll get the bloody thing," he grated. To himself he swore
he'd get Des Coleman, the rigger who should have stowed the
gear.</p>
<p>The management man waited by his van until Jock was half-way up
the side of the building before he walked to his car. Over the
whistling wind, he could hear the whine of the motor as it reeled
in the braided cables and the gantry slowly hoisted up and out of
site on the dark face of the blocks. Jock saw the headlamps stab
out and waited until the red tail lights had disappeared round the
corner. The ice crystals, condensed out of the frozen air, were
needling into his left ear and he cursed aloud. The gantry rose up
slowly and steadily.</p>
<p>He was nine floors up, just rising past a lighted window when
the wind swung the platform to the right, and a movement inside the
room caught his eye.</p>
<p>He had risen another nine feet before the image really
registered and he hit the stop switch with a stab of his finger,
then, with another jab, he thumbed the green button which reversed
the gantry. He lowered it the nine feet, hoping the wind would hide
the noise, then stood for a moment, holding on tight to the safety
bars.</p>
<p>The rig swung gently away from the lit window then back again
and Jock was able to confirm what he'd seen. His face broke into a
wide grin. It took three swings of the galley to identify the woman
on the floor as he hung out as far as he could, one hand gripping
the hawser, then about ten seconds to figure out why she was doing
what she was doing with such obvious vigour.</p>
<p>Isobel McIntyre was spreadeagled under the collector from the
Housemarket Supply Company. Both of them were exhibiting great
enthusiasm. The rep was fat and balding. Sweat was glistening
between his shoulderblades and he had the hairiest arse Jock Toner
had ever seen. His head was down on her shoulder and he was
thrusting away as if his life depended on it. Isobel's eyes were
screwed tight shut and her mouth was drawn back in a rictus of
concentration. Even through the double glazing and above the
whistling of the wind in the wires, Jock could hear the man's base
grunt and the woman's high, animal snarl. He'd worked on the
outside of buildings long enough to know that even if they had
looked, the reflection of the light on the glass would hide him
from the people inside the room.</p>
<p>He grinned again. Isobel was a distant relative of Jock's wife.
She'd be shocked if she knew her second cousin's wife was doing it
to a fine tune on the floor of her living-room with the man from
the HSC. Jock wondered just how much the woman owed on her weekly
payments, for the supply company interest was extortionate. He also
wondered just how many other women were paying their bills on their
backs. As that thought struck him, he made a mental note to find
out when the fat and hairy little man made his regular visits to
his own house.</p>
<p>It was an hour after he clerk of works had disappeared in his
van and Jock was still up on the gantry, halfway between the top of
the building and the ground, enjoying every vicarious moment from
his vantage point.</p>
<p>The wind had dropped and the spindrift crystals were no longer
needling his ear. Up above the sky was velvet dark. There was no
moon to light the thin snow-clouds that had built up to hide the
stars.</p>
<p>Inside the room, the woman and the man had rolled on the floor
for a while then he had pulled her up onto the couch and after that
he'd even tried to lean her over the ironing table, though their
combined weight rocked it to much they gave up quickly. Jock was
surprised the spindly board had taken the weight and he thought to
himself, one hand now working slowly deep in the crotch of his
baggy overalls, that even if she was paying off debt, she was
thoroughly enjoying the instalment terms. The grunting noises
continued from the room as the rig swung silently, like a weighty
pendulum, back and forth on the long cables, while Jack held on
with his free hand.</p>
<p>The action changed and Isobel McIntyre crawled round to face in
the opposite direction. Her fair hair was lank with perspiration
and her whole body glistened. Jock knew she'd always been a looker,
and now he could see that the reality was even better than he'd
imagined. She had a long, slim body and pert little breasts that
were lacquered with sweat. He watched her head bob up and down and
his own hand started to move quickly. He couldn't remember ever
being so turned on before. It was almost better, he told himself,
than the real thing. He heard his own breath coming faster and
faster as the woman worked away on the man, taking her own pleasure
as she did, and in the cold night air, Jock's heavy breath fogged
the window.</p>
<p>He leaned out, taking a risk by letting go his anchor hand for a
moment, to rub the window with his elbow, when the gantry gave a
sudden, violent jolt at the apex of its swing.</p>
<p>Jock Toner's heart lurched just as violently as he was thrown
out over the railing.</p>
<p>"Oh Chri...." he squawked, in that instant not caring if the
people inside the house heard him or not. By pure reflex, his hand
shot out and hooked the cable just as his balance reached the point
of no return, and hauled him back. The rig shook with the sudden
movement. One edge scraped on the concrete facade with a metallic
grinding noise. Jock's breath swooped in and he felt the blood
drain from his face.</p>
<p>"What in the name..." he blurted aloud. For a moment he'd
completely lost interest in the action through the pane. He held on
tight to the railings while his heartbeat knocked on his ribs. His
belly was quaking with the surge of adrenalin and his knees were
jittering out of synch with each other. The gantry swung again,
still oscillating back and forth, but now slowing down. Jock took
several breaths to clear his head. He'd almost fallen straight off
the edge, and he was still stunned by how close, how
<em>instantaneous</em> it had been. His knuckles stood out white on
the railing top.</p>
<p>The scene in the house momentarily forgotten, he leaned over the
edge, peering down into the darkness below. A thin, ice-laden fog
was swirling around the building, punctuated here and there by the
dim lights behind curtained windows. Below the gantry, the braided
nylon guide rope dropped away out of sight. There was nothing
there, though Jock knew <em>something</em> had hit the rope. He
checked at his feet, where the braid was wound onto the plastic
spindle. One end trailed away down into the mist and then looped
back up again to where it was draped over the balustrade. At this
height, Jock knew it couldn't reach to the ground, so that ruled
out mischievous kids down there. He pondered the possibility that
someone had opened a window and tugged at the guide, but it was
hanging down from the far edge. Somebody would have to have long
arms to reach that far.</p>
<p>The wind tugged the hawser again and made it sing a weird.
mournful note. Jock leaned over again, peering downwards to see if
there was anything that could have jolted the platform so heavily,
but there was nothing at all. The cold mist was getting thicker.
Down in the distance, away to the left, the orange street-lamps
were getting dimmer, haloed by fuzzy rings of luminescence.</p>
<p>He turned back and touched the wall to stop the to-and-fro
motion of the gantry and then shifted his weight outwards, careful
to keep a grip on the bar. The fright was gone, and his heart was
already was steadying down to a normal beat. The danger over, Jock
Toner remembered the scene in the house. He leaned out as far as he
could until his head was just beyond the window edge. Isobel
McIntyre was facing in the opposite direction, astraddle the
hirsute debt collector. She had a small tattoo on the right cheek,
just above what Jock estimated would be the panty line. He watched
the pink curves move slowly and felt the pressure rise again.
Isobel had a superior way about her. He knew she would <em>die</em>
if she thought she'd been watched doing it to a band playing with
the man from HSC. His hand stole back inside his overalls again and
the mist swirled thicker around him. His attention was nailed on
the scene beyond the window.</p>
<p>Then something dripped on his shoulder just at the same time as
he heard the scraping noise a little way above his head.</p>
<p>At first he thought it was a bird-dropping. Sometimes the
starlings would flock in their thousands on winter nights, roosting
on the high edges of the tall buildings. It was an occupational
hazard for anyone who worked at a height, but Jock knew there were
no starlings flying in the winter mist. He'd have heard their
chattering, and up here, the night was silent apart from the
moaning of the wind in the wires and the muffled, guttural noises
emanating from Isobel McIntyre's living room. He looked up into the
darkness overhead. The pulley wires were taut parallel lines which
soared upwards but disappeared from view only a few yards higher
than the level where he stood.</p>
<p>Something spattered again, catching him on the side of his head
and dripping down his cheek.</p>
<p>At once he smelled the thick scent and his nose wrinkled in
disgust.</p>
<p>"What the..." he grunted, again failing to finish a
sentence.</p>
<p>Then something hit the wires with such force that it sounded
like a base-string plucked hard. The gantry jumped about a foot
into the air and bounced. Jock felt himself thrown against the
balustrade again, but this time he was holding tight with his free
hand.</p>
<p>He swung back while the platform was still moving and peered up
again. A misty shape moved overhead, close in to the building,
though the movement was obscured by the thickening mist.</p>
<p>Jock moved away from the window.</p>
<p>"Who's there?" he called up softly, not wishing to disturb the
man and woman inside the house.</p>
<p>The scraping noise came again. It sounded like stone on stone,
muffled by the night.</p>
<p>He was about to call out again when something white flickered
wanly in the darkness. Beyond it, a black shadow elongated. Jock
pulled himself up to his full height, eyes trying to make it out
when the shadow came suddenly <em>racing</em> down the side of the
wall. It happened so fast that Jock Toner never had the chance to
even open him mouth.</p>
<p>The shape, blacker than night, moved with astonishing speed. It
came lunging with a liquid, pistoning motion, the white thing
flapping alongside it. He got a glimpse of a jointed arm. Two huge
orange eyes flicked open, and then something hit him so hard on the
side of the neck he heard the harsh rip of muscles tearing above
his shoulder. His grip was torn from the railing and he flopped
against the outer edge.</p>
<p>The shadow came looming right at him. The eyes blazed again.
Something cold and hard gripped him by the head. He could feel the
clench of massive fingers on each temple and the bones felt as if
they were simply caving in under the pressure. His arms shot out to
ward the thing off. His knuckle hit blindly against the electric
motor housing and accidentally jammed the yellow button. The engine
whined into life as the gantry took a lurch and started to
climb.</p>
<p>Even then, Jack Toner was aware of the foul stench which
suddenly assaulted his nostrils. It smelled like rotting flesh.</p>
<p>Then he was falling. There was an abrupt twist and a searing
pain as he was lifted in one jerking heave and thrown over the
railing.</p>
<p>He screamed then, very loud and very clear as he plummeted
through the mist. The force of the throw had sent him out from the
building, much further than a man could have jumped. In that
supercharged moment, jumbled thoughts and pictures flashed and
fizzed in the man's brain. He was falling and he was going to die.
He saw himself swoop down to the concrete flagstones below and saw
himself splatter and bounce.</p>
<p>Then the nylon guide rope which had snagged around his calf as
he went over the edge snapped him to a halt in mid-air as he
reached the end of its drop. The force of the stall snatched his
thigh-bone out of his hip socket and pain exploded inside him in a
white flare. There was no time, or breath for a sigh of relief, but
in that instant Jock Toner realised what had happened. The pain was
washed away in the realisation that he was not falling any longer,
that he was not going to splatter and bounce wetly on the concrete
below. Relief swamped him.</p>
<p>If Jock Toner had not been thrown out twenty feet from the side
of Lock View, then he would have probably survived. But when he hit
the end of the rope and felt his leg wrench out of its socket, he
bounced like a weight on the end of a piece of string and came
hurtling back in towards the building. He was spinning wildly as he
tumbled back from the far end of the pendulum arc, yelling all the
while, unable to control his position. The gantry was still making
its automatic ascent of the building. Jock came flying inwards and
spun just at the moment his head was below the top edge of Isobel
McIntyre's window. The upward pull on the hawsers coupled with his
swing ensured that his forehead connected with the sharp concrete
edge with a muted crunching sound. A huge flash of white light
seared through his mind as the circuits sparked and fizzled
instantaneously in his brain just at the moment the concrete edge
smashed a deep chiselled line into his forehead. Isobel McIntyre's
window went red and opaque. A piece of Jock's skull lifted like a
flap and went spiralling down through the mist to land with a crack
on the concrete.</p>
<p>High up on the edge of the building, Jock Toner's body twitched
and danced as it was drawn upwards, spraying his blood. The whole
forefront of his brain was completely gone, but the brain stem just
carried on as if nothing had happened. His heart still pumped and
his nerves shook and shivered as he was hauled slowly skywards into
the night. From the gaping hole in the front of his head, the blood
came gouting out in a series of pulses.</p>
<p>Finally the engine reached the top and the automatic cut-out
kicked in. The gantry whined to a stop. Thirty feet below it, Jock
Toner's body quivered and spasmed, unseen by any human eye while
his blood ran in rivers down the rough edge of the building where
it froze in long, dribbling streaks. Down below, on the concrete on
the north edge of the building, it formed a thin slick which iced
over in less than an hour.</p>
<p>Inside the house where he'd watched the two people grunting on
the floor, Isobel McIntyre sat up.</p>
<p>"Did you hear something?" she asked.</p>
<p>"What?" the man asked, out of breath.</p>
<p>"I thought I heard a noise."</p>
<p>"Probably me," the hairy man said. He reached over to the seat
where his clothes were crumpled in a heap and dragged his shirt
across to wipe the sweat from his brow.</p>
<p>"What time is it?"</p>
<p>"Getting late. You'd better get out of here before my Kenny gets
in." Isobel got to her feet, and came acros to the window. She
could see nothing out there. The was no light outside to show her
the red coating on the window. She'd see it in the morning, along
with the congealing scrap of flesh stuck to the roughcast edge just
above her window and she would flee to the bathroom where she would
be immediately and violently sick. The sickness would come upon her
again one morning before the week was out, but there was another
reason for that and it's another story.</p>
<p>Jock Toner's frozen and bloodless cadaver was not found until
late the following morning by the team who came back to work to
finish off the concreting. In fact, it was Neil Gunn, an
eighteen-year-old apprentice who noticed the shape dangling from
the gantry an hour after he'd started work. He got such a fright
that all he could do was hang on to the safety rail on the top of
the block and scream for help from the foreman who was down in the
hut. The ganger called the police and the fir brigade who had to
take one of the clattering lifts up to the roof and manually wind
the gantry down to ground level where Jack Toner's body hit the
ground like a log, frozen stiff.</p>
<p>At that time, everybody believed it had been an accident. All
except one person who knew it was not.</p>
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			`<h2>11</h2>`
			`<p>A biting north wind whistled round the straight edge of Loch`
			`View, which stood with three other high-rise blocks on the edge of`
			`town. The low pressure which had brought rain and sleet had moved`
			`off slowly into the North Sea and behind it, a ridge of clear high`
			`pressure dragged the freezing air down from the edge of Greenland,`
			`frosting the night sky as temperatures plummeted. The wind made the`
			`wires of the gantry moan as it plucked the steel braids with icy`
			`fingers and rocked the platform slowly back and forth half-way up`
			`the sheer side of the building.</p>`
			`<p>Under normal circumstances, Jock Toner would have been mightily`
			`peeved that he was still up in the rig on a dark and freezing`
			`night. But the circumstances had changed. He'd been one of the team`
			`of bricklayers repairing the worn concrete on the side of the`
			`building which had weathered away like hard peeling scabs under the`
			`weight of the winds. The gantry was suspended from a winch on rails`
			`on the flat top of the block which allowed the men to be lowered`
			`and raised at the touch of a button on the winding motor.</p>`
			`<p>It had been cold work all day. The wind hadn't stopped and even`
			`in the clear air, tiny ice crystals had whipped around the corner`
			`of the building, whirling in the turbulence, to sting the men's`
			`ears raw.</p>`
			`<p>Ordinarily, Jock would have been home by now, probably dozing in`
			`front of the television, or maybe down in the County Bar for a`
			`couple of straight whiskies. He'd been last man to leave the hut,`
			`and was just about to start up his old battered Ford when the`
			`council's clerk of works had shown up unexpectedly. He'd pointed`
			`out that the gantry had been lowered to the ground.</p>`
			`<p>"What do you want me to do about it?" Jock had asked`
			`truculently.</p>`
			`<p>"Basically, I want you to get it right back up the top again,`
			`where nobody can mess about with it."</p>`
			`<p>"My shift finished half an hour ago," Jock argued.</p>`
			`<p>"Well, you've got a choice. You can go home now and I can call`
			`the works manager and get him out in the middle of the night," the`
			`fellow had responded easily.</p>`
			`<p>"It's six of one to me. I'll let him know you insisted he got a`
			`call out. Either way, there's no way that thing can sit out for the`
			`rest of the night. Any kid could climb on and start the motor."</p>`
			`<p>He looked at Jock levelly, with a small smile.</p>`
			`<p>"So, should I call the boss out?"</p>`
			`<p>Jock let out a sigh of annoyance.</p>`
			`<p>"No. I'll get the bloody thing," he grated. To himself he swore`
			`he'd get Des Coleman, the rigger who should have stowed the`
			`gear.</p>`
			`<p>The management man waited by his van until Jock was half-way up`
			`the side of the building before he walked to his car. Over the`
			`whistling wind, he could hear the whine of the motor as it reeled`
			`in the braided cables and the gantry slowly hoisted up and out of`
			`site on the dark face of the blocks. Jock saw the headlamps stab`
			`out and waited until the red tail lights had disappeared round the`
			`corner. The ice crystals, condensed out of the frozen air, were`
			`needling into his left ear and he cursed aloud. The gantry rose up`
			`slowly and steadily.</p>`
			`<p>He was nine floors up, just rising past a lighted window when`
			`the wind swung the platform to the right, and a movement inside the`
			`room caught his eye.</p>`
			`<p>He had risen another nine feet before the image really`
			`registered and he hit the stop switch with a stab of his finger,`
			`then, with another jab, he thumbed the green button which reversed`
			`the gantry. He lowered it the nine feet, hoping the wind would hide`
			`the noise, then stood for a moment, holding on tight to the safety`
			`bars.</p>`
			`<p>The rig swung gently away from the lit window then back again`
			`and Jock was able to confirm what he'd seen. His face broke into a`
			`wide grin. It took three swings of the galley to identify the woman`
			`on the floor as he hung out as far as he could, one hand gripping`
			`the hawser, then about ten seconds to figure out why she was doing`
			`what she was doing with such obvious vigour.</p>`
			`<p>Isobel McIntyre was spreadeagled under the collector from the`
			`Housemarket Supply Company. Both of them were exhibiting great`
			`enthusiasm. The rep was fat and balding. Sweat was glistening`
			`between his shoulderblades and he had the hairiest arse Jock Toner`
			`had ever seen. His head was down on her shoulder and he was`
			`thrusting away as if his life depended on it. Isobel's eyes were`
			`screwed tight shut and her mouth was drawn back in a rictus of`
			`concentration. Even through the double glazing and above the`
			`whistling of the wind in the wires, Jock could hear the man's base`
			`grunt and the woman's high, animal snarl. He'd worked on the`
			`outside of buildings long enough to know that even if they had`
			`looked, the reflection of the light on the glass would hide him`
			`from the people inside the room.</p>`
			`<p>He grinned again. Isobel was a distant relative of Jock's wife.`
			`She'd be shocked if she knew her second cousin's wife was doing it`
			`to a fine tune on the floor of her living-room with the man from`
			`the HSC. Jock wondered just how much the woman owed on her weekly`
			`payments, for the supply company interest was extortionate. He also`
			`wondered just how many other women were paying their bills on their`
			`backs. As that thought struck him, he made a mental note to find`
			`out when the fat and hairy little man made his regular visits to`
			`his own house.</p>`
			`<p>It was an hour after he clerk of works had disappeared in his`
			`van and Jock was still up on the gantry, halfway between the top of`
			`the building and the ground, enjoying every vicarious moment from`
			`his vantage point.</p>`
			`<p>The wind had dropped and the spindrift crystals were no longer`
			`needling his ear. Up above the sky was velvet dark. There was no`
			`moon to light the thin snow-clouds that had built up to hide the`
			`stars.</p>`
			`<p>Inside the room, the woman and the man had rolled on the floor`
			`for a while then he had pulled her up onto the couch and after that`
			`he'd even tried to lean her over the ironing table, though their`
			`combined weight rocked it to much they gave up quickly. Jock was`
			`surprised the spindly board had taken the weight and he thought to`
			`himself, one hand now working slowly deep in the crotch of his`
			`baggy overalls, that even if she was paying off debt, she was`
			`thoroughly enjoying the instalment terms. The grunting noises`
			`continued from the room as the rig swung silently, like a weighty`
			`pendulum, back and forth on the long cables, while Jack held on`
			`with his free hand.</p>`
			`<p>The action changed and Isobel McIntyre crawled round to face in`
			`the opposite direction. Her fair hair was lank with perspiration`
			`and her whole body glistened. Jock knew she'd always been a looker,`
			`and now he could see that the reality was even better than he'd`
			`imagined. She had a long, slim body and pert little breasts that`
			`were lacquered with sweat. He watched her head bob up and down and`
			`his own hand started to move quickly. He couldn't remember ever`
			`being so turned on before. It was almost better, he told himself,`
			`than the real thing. He heard his own breath coming faster and`
			`faster as the woman worked away on the man, taking her own pleasure`
			`as she did, and in the cold night air, Jock's heavy breath fogged`
			`the window.</p>`
			`<p>He leaned out, taking a risk by letting go his anchor hand for a`
			`moment, to rub the window with his elbow, when the gantry gave a`
			`sudden, violent jolt at the apex of its swing.</p>`
			`<p>Jock Toner's heart lurched just as violently as he was thrown`
			`out over the railing.</p>`
			`<p>"Oh Chri...." he squawked, in that instant not caring if the`
			`people inside the house heard him or not. By pure reflex, his hand`
			`shot out and hooked the cable just as his balance reached the point`
			`of no return, and hauled him back. The rig shook with the sudden`
			`movement. One edge scraped on the concrete facade with a metallic`
			`grinding noise. Jock's breath swooped in and he felt the blood`
			`drain from his face.</p>`
			`<p>"What in the name..." he blurted aloud. For a moment he'd`
			`completely lost interest in the action through the pane. He held on`
			`tight to the railings while his heartbeat knocked on his ribs. His`
			`belly was quaking with the surge of adrenalin and his knees were`
			`jittering out of synch with each other. The gantry swung again,`
			`still oscillating back and forth, but now slowing down. Jock took`
			`several breaths to clear his head. He'd almost fallen straight off`
			`the edge, and he was still stunned by how close, how`
			`<em>instantaneous</em> it had been. His knuckles stood out white on`
			`the railing top.</p>`
			`<p>The scene in the house momentarily forgotten, he leaned over the`
			`edge, peering down into the darkness below. A thin, ice-laden fog`
			`was swirling around the building, punctuated here and there by the`
			`dim lights behind curtained windows. Below the gantry, the braided`
			`nylon guide rope dropped away out of sight. There was nothing`
			`there, though Jock knew <em>something</em> had hit the rope. He`
			`checked at his feet, where the braid was wound onto the plastic`
			`spindle. One end trailed away down into the mist and then looped`
			`back up again to where it was draped over the balustrade. At this`
			`height, Jock knew it couldn't reach to the ground, so that ruled`
			`out mischievous kids down there. He pondered the possibility that`
			`someone had opened a window and tugged at the guide, but it was`
			`hanging down from the far edge. Somebody would have to have long`
			`arms to reach that far.</p>`
			`<p>The wind tugged the hawser again and made it sing a weird.`
			`mournful note. Jock leaned over again, peering downwards to see if`
			`there was anything that could have jolted the platform so heavily,`
			`but there was nothing at all. The cold mist was getting thicker.`
			`Down in the distance, away to the left, the orange street-lamps`
			`were getting dimmer, haloed by fuzzy rings of luminescence.</p>`
			`<p>He turned back and touched the wall to stop the to-and-fro`
			`motion of the gantry and then shifted his weight outwards, careful`
			`to keep a grip on the bar. The fright was gone, and his heart was`
			`already was steadying down to a normal beat. The danger over, Jock`
			`Toner remembered the scene in the house. He leaned out as far as he`
			`could until his head was just beyond the window edge. Isobel`
			`McIntyre was facing in the opposite direction, astraddle the`
			`hirsute debt collector. She had a small tattoo on the right cheek,`
			`just above what Jock estimated would be the panty line. He watched`
			`the pink curves move slowly and felt the pressure rise again.`
			`Isobel had a superior way about her. He knew she would <em>die</em>`
			`if she thought she'd been watched doing it to a band playing with`
			`the man from HSC. His hand stole back inside his overalls again and`
			`the mist swirled thicker around him. His attention was nailed on`
			`the scene beyond the window.</p>`
			`<p>Then something dripped on his shoulder just at the same time as`
			`he heard the scraping noise a little way above his head.</p>`
			`<p>At first he thought it was a bird-dropping. Sometimes the`
			`starlings would flock in their thousands on winter nights, roosting`
			`on the high edges of the tall buildings. It was an occupational`
			`hazard for anyone who worked at a height, but Jock knew there were`
			`no starlings flying in the winter mist. He'd have heard their`
			`chattering, and up here, the night was silent apart from the`
			`moaning of the wind in the wires and the muffled, guttural noises`
			`emanating from Isobel McIntyre's living room. He looked up into the`
			`darkness overhead. The pulley wires were taut parallel lines which`
			`soared upwards but disappeared from view only a few yards higher`
			`than the level where he stood.</p>`
			`<p>Something spattered again, catching him on the side of his head`
			`and dripping down his cheek.</p>`
			`<p>At once he smelled the thick scent and his nose wrinkled in`
			`disgust.</p>`
			`<p>"What the..." he grunted, again failing to finish a`
			`sentence.</p>`
			`<p>Then something hit the wires with such force that it sounded`
			`like a base-string plucked hard. The gantry jumped about a foot`
			`into the air and bounced. Jock felt himself thrown against the`
			`balustrade again, but this time he was holding tight with his free`
			`hand.</p>`
			`<p>He swung back while the platform was still moving and peered up`
			`again. A misty shape moved overhead, close in to the building,`
			`though the movement was obscured by the thickening mist.</p>`
			`<p>Jock moved away from the window.</p>`
			`<p>"Who's there?" he called up softly, not wishing to disturb the`
			`man and woman inside the house.</p>`
			`<p>The scraping noise came again. It sounded like stone on stone,`
			`muffled by the night.</p>`
			`<p>He was about to call out again when something white flickered`
			`wanly in the darkness. Beyond it, a black shadow elongated. Jock`
			`pulled himself up to his full height, eyes trying to make it out`
			`when the shadow came suddenly <em>racing</em> down the side of the`
			`wall. It happened so fast that Jock Toner never had the chance to`
			`even open him mouth.</p>`
			`<p>The shape, blacker than night, moved with astonishing speed. It`
			`came lunging with a liquid, pistoning motion, the white thing`
			`flapping alongside it. He got a glimpse of a jointed arm. Two huge`
			`orange eyes flicked open, and then something hit him so hard on the`
			`side of the neck he heard the harsh rip of muscles tearing above`
			`his shoulder. His grip was torn from the railing and he flopped`
			`against the outer edge.</p>`
			`<p>The shadow came looming right at him. The eyes blazed again.`
			`Something cold and hard gripped him by the head. He could feel the`
			`clench of massive fingers on each temple and the bones felt as if`
			`they were simply caving in under the pressure. His arms shot out to`
			`ward the thing off. His knuckle hit blindly against the electric`
			`motor housing and accidentally jammed the yellow button. The engine`
			`whined into life as the gantry took a lurch and started to`
			`climb.</p>`
			`<p>Even then, Jack Toner was aware of the foul stench which`
			`suddenly assaulted his nostrils. It smelled like rotting flesh.</p>`
			`<p>Then he was falling. There was an abrupt twist and a searing`
			`pain as he was lifted in one jerking heave and thrown over the`
			`railing.</p>`
			`<p>He screamed then, very loud and very clear as he plummeted`
			`through the mist. The force of the throw had sent him out from the`
			`building, much further than a man could have jumped. In that`
			`supercharged moment, jumbled thoughts and pictures flashed and`
			`fizzed in the man's brain. He was falling and he was going to die.`
			`He saw himself swoop down to the concrete flagstones below and saw`
			`himself splatter and bounce.</p>`
			`<p>Then the nylon guide rope which had snagged around his calf as`
			`he went over the edge snapped him to a halt in mid-air as he`
			`reached the end of its drop. The force of the stall snatched his`
			`thigh-bone out of his hip socket and pain exploded inside him in a`
			`white flare. There was no time, or breath for a sigh of relief, but`
			`in that instant Jock Toner realised what had happened. The pain was`
			`washed away in the realisation that he was not falling any longer,`
			`that he was not going to splatter and bounce wetly on the concrete`
			`below. Relief swamped him.</p>`
			`<p>If Jock Toner had not been thrown out twenty feet from the side`
			`of Lock View, then he would have probably survived. But when he hit`
			`the end of the rope and felt his leg wrench out of its socket, he`
			`bounced like a weight on the end of a piece of string and came`
			`hurtling back in towards the building. He was spinning wildly as he`
			`tumbled back from the far end of the pendulum arc, yelling all the`
			`while, unable to control his position. The gantry was still making`
			`its automatic ascent of the building. Jock came flying inwards and`
			`spun just at the moment his head was below the top edge of Isobel`
			`McIntyre's window. The upward pull on the hawsers coupled with his`
			`swing ensured that his forehead connected with the sharp concrete`
			`edge with a muted crunching sound. A huge flash of white light`
			`seared through his mind as the circuits sparked and fizzled`
			`instantaneously in his brain just at the moment the concrete edge`
			`smashed a deep chiselled line into his forehead. Isobel McIntyre's`
			`window went red and opaque. A piece of Jock's skull lifted like a`
			`flap and went spiralling down through the mist to land with a crack`
			`on the concrete.</p>`
			`<p>High up on the edge of the building, Jock Toner's body twitched`
			`and danced as it was drawn upwards, spraying his blood. The whole`
			`forefront of his brain was completely gone, but the brain stem just`
			`carried on as if nothing had happened. His heart still pumped and`
			`his nerves shook and shivered as he was hauled slowly skywards into`
			`the night. From the gaping hole in the front of his head, the blood`
			`came gouting out in a series of pulses.</p>`
			`<p>Finally the engine reached the top and the automatic cut-out`
			`kicked in. The gantry whined to a stop. Thirty feet below it, Jock`
			`Toner's body quivered and spasmed, unseen by any human eye while`
			`his blood ran in rivers down the rough edge of the building where`
			`it froze in long, dribbling streaks. Down below, on the concrete on`
			`the north edge of the building, it formed a thin slick which iced`
			`over in less than an hour.</p>`
			`<p>Inside the house where he'd watched the two people grunting on`
			`the floor, Isobel McIntyre sat up.</p>`
			`<p>"Did you hear something?" she asked.</p>`
			`<p>"What?" the man asked, out of breath.</p>`
			`<p>"I thought I heard a noise."</p>`
			`<p>"Probably me," the hairy man said. He reached over to the seat`
			`where his clothes were crumpled in a heap and dragged his shirt`
			`across to wipe the sweat from his brow.</p>`
			`<p>"What time is it?"</p>`
			`<p>"Getting late. You'd better get out of here before my Kenny gets`
			`in." Isobel got to her feet, and came acros to the window. She`
			`could see nothing out there. The was no light outside to show her`
			`the red coating on the window. She'd see it in the morning, along`
			`with the congealing scrap of flesh stuck to the roughcast edge just`
			`above her window and she would flee to the bathroom where she would`
			`be immediately and violently sick. The sickness would come upon her`
			`again one morning before the week was out, but there was another`
			`reason for that and it's another story.</p>`
			`<p>Jock Toner's frozen and bloodless cadaver was not found until`
			`late the following morning by the team who came back to work to`
			`finish off the concreting. In fact, it was Neil Gunn, an`
			`eighteen-year-old apprentice who noticed the shape dangling from`
			`the gantry an hour after he'd started work. He got such a fright`
			`that all he could do was hang on to the safety rail on the top of`
			`the block and scream for help from the foreman who was down in the`
			`hut. The ganger called the police and the fir brigade who had to`
			`take one of the clattering lifts up to the roof and manually wind`
			`the gantry down to ground level where Jack Toner's body hit the`
			`ground like a log, frozen stiff.</p>`
			`<p>At that time, everybody believed it had been an accident. All`
			`except one person who knew it was not.</p>`
			`</div>`
			`</div>`
			`</body>`
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