Scottie rang him on his mobile.
"There will be a note." he told him, too calmly. What? A note for what?
Danny did not understand. But he would have been surprised and shocked to find that Scottie's glove-wearing taxi driver was the same man as had taken Danny to the hotel to meet the informant, when he was asking questions about Alex. He would have even remembered the taxi's number. Danny would examine the note carefully for any clues to Scottie's death; which he did not believe for a moment was a suicide.
Scottie had been a good friend to him; friend, mentor, father figure. Danny had had no one, and there was a time when it had been the same for Scottie. He knew that on some level, Scottie might have wanted more from him, to love him as a romantic partner, but had been much too decent to push it, and seemed satisfied enough with Danny's friendship, and if the relationship should fall out of balance because of Danny's neediness, dropping by unannounced once too often, and although Danny was welcome any time, Scottie had said, he had no problem telling Danny so - which Danny appreciated. He would never want to take advantage of his friend. But now, it seemed Scottie had to pay the price for his divided loyalties. He had sacrificed everything for Danny. Or had he been the good spy all along, and just could no longer continue with the ruse? When Danny saw him like that at the Heath, at the end, he sank to the ground, his body heaving with deep sobs.
He occupied his days after that speculating about the activities of the residents of the building across the street, looking out over the rubbish bins below and into the opened windows, when the blinds were raised, as to whether or not he was being surveilled by them from the confines of a safe house.
Even Claire now encouraged him to put it all behind him, after the funeral.
"When you're ready," she said, "I'll be here." Which Danny understood her to mean that he should pick up with his own studies and move forward, as Scottie and probably even Alex would have wanted him to do. "Talent but no drive", or "ambition but no conviction" were assessments he'd heard all his life.
Was he going to be content to navigate through life like sonar though water?
He moved from the cramped little flat that he shared with several other students into Scottie's home now, driving there in Scottie's classic blue Jensen C-V8 sportscar. His flatmates Pavel and Sara both hugged him and wished him well, and thought it would do him a world of good.