Callum knelt by the side of the bed and dragged out a big file box. Rummaged inside for the maroon half-size ring-binders buried under the flats insurance schedule, the mortgage documents, and the HP agreement for the telly.
Elaines voice belted out from the kitchen. Did you stay up half the night reading again?
Maybe. He tucked the binders into a small backpack, plucked the copy of The Monsters Who Came for Dinner from the bedside cabinet, and wandered through. You dont have to do that.
Yes I do. She lumped a couple of slices of white from the bread bin onto the chopping board and slathered them with spread. You want cheese-and-pickle, or egg?
Go back to bed, its fine.
Just because Im stuck here with Peanut, doesnt mean Im useless.
Callum stepped behind her and kissed the back of her neck. No one thinks youre useless.
Youll have to have cheese-and-pickle, were out of eggs.
The flats phone launched into its semi-classical theme tune again.
She froze.
Its OK, Ill get it. He marched through to the lounge. Grabbed up the phone. Hello?
Nothing.
Checked the caller display. Same as last night. NUMBER WITHHELD.
Who is this?
Silence.
Click.
Yeah, that was getting old very quickly.
He turned, and there was Elaine, holding out a little Tupperware box in one hand and a banana in the other. Who was it?
Automated-dialling PPI nonsense again.
Theres a mini Mars Bar in there too. You know. She lowered her eyes. To keep your strength up.
He tucked the box and banana into his backpack. Its just a boring wee meeting with Professional Standards, itll be fine. Promise. That sounded confident, didnt it? Completely unlike the lie it was. He replaced The Monsters Who Came for Dinner in its bookshelf slot, grabbed a tatty paperback at random: The Beginners Guide to Shoplifting, and added it to the pack.
Callum... She put a hand against his chest.
What can they do? Theyve got no evidence they cant, because I didnt do anything, did I?
She gave him a little pained smile. We love you.
I know. A kiss on the cheek. Got to go, dont want to be late for the rubber heelers.
Callum shifted in his seat.
The waiting room was... disturbingly neutral. Blue carpet, magnolia walls, a row of four soft-ish chairs along one wall, a sideboard-sized filing unit thing on the other complete with the obligatory pile of well-thumbed, ancient magazines. A water dispenser in the corner. A framed painting of Oldcastles skyline rendered in all manner of bright and unnatural colours.
Callum shifted in his seat.
The waiting room was... disturbingly neutral. Blue carpet, magnolia walls, a row of four soft-ish chairs along one wall, a sideboard-sized filing unit thing on the other complete with the obligatory pile of well-thumbed, ancient magazines. A water dispenser in the corner. A framed painting of Oldcastles skyline rendered in all manner of bright and unnatural colours.
He checked his phone 07:13.
Oldest interview technique in the business leave your victim to stew for a while. Let them work themselves into a state of nervous exhaustion worrying about what you knew.
Well, tough: they knew sod-all. Because there was sod-all to know.
The only thing up-to-date on the sideboard was a copy of that mornings Castle News and Post, the banner headline: BODY FOUND IN CASTLEVIEW FLAT above a photo of the craphole Glen Carmichael and his mates were doing up. There was an inset pic of three figures standing outside the main entrance while SOC Smurfs shuffled past in the background. McAdams, Franklin, and right in the middle staring straight at the camera his own face. Looking tired and fed up. So they were right: the camera didnt lie. All three of them got a namecheck, though theyd managed to spell McAdams name wrong. Which was nice.
Right underneath the main story, was DRUG DEN UPSTAIRS MADE LIFE A LIVING HELL, a shocking exclusive with Murder Flats downstairs neighbour! continued on page six. There was always someone.
Callum dumped the paper and dipped into his rucksack instead, pulling out The Beginners Guide to Shoplifting. Settled back to read the first short story. A bit heavy on the adverbs, but other than that, it was OK.
He was just starting the second one when the door through to the office opened and a middle-aged man in uniform poked his head out. His hair had abandoned its post, retreating to a defensive position around both ears, a set of jowls lightly blued with stubble. A pair of evil-scientist glasses, all narrow with silver frames. He smiled. Ah, Callum. Good, good: in you come. Sorry about the wait. He held the door open and gestured inside.
No, its fine. Callum stood. Stuffed the book in his backpack. Gave me a chance to catch up with my reading.
Good, good. He moved aside, then closed the door behind Callum. I know we should have done this weeks ago, but you know what its like. Busy, busy.
It was a small-ish office, with a desk on one side and a round table in the middle. Some filing cabinets. A coffee machine. A small digital video camera on a tripod.
Please, please, take a seat. Coffee? Im having one anyway...?
Thanks. Just milk.
Perfect. He wandered over and started pushing buttons and inserting cartridges. So, Callum, I understand youre going to be a father in two weeks time. How exciting. Most fulfilling thing you can do as a man.
Well
There you go. One white coffee. He sank into the chair next to Callums. I cant abide all this flat white nonsense, can you? Oh, he stuck his hand out, Chief Inspector Gilmore, we spoke on the phone yesterday, but you can call me Alex.
OK...
Chief Inspector.
Ah, almost forgot. He raised himself half out of his seat and pointed a remote control at the camera. A little red light blinked on. There we go. Cant do these things without a proper record, can we? The Boss would have my guts for garters. And I understand your good lady is in the job too?
Callum closed his mouth, then opened it again. Well, yes. I mean, shes on maternity leave, but
Let me see now... He checked a notepad. Ah, here we are: Constable Pirie. Elaine. You know, I had an Aunty Elaine when I was wee. Lovely lady, used to give us Advocaat every Christmas because she thought it wasnt alcoholic. And I see shes been seconded to the Scenes Examination Branch?
What?
Chief Inspector Gilmore held up a hand. Sorry, your Elaine, not my aunt. Hows she getting on? Weird cravings, Ill bet. My Pauline used to chew the rubber hose from the spin dryer. That dates me, doesnt it? Amazing our sons didnt come out with two heads. Hows the coffee?
Was the man some sort of idiot? How...
Callum sat back in his seat.
No, of course he wasnt. Didnt matter what crime novels and TV dramas said, you didnt get to be a chief inspector without having a considerable amount of grey matter packed between your earholes. The rambling avuncular act was all about putting people at ease and off their game at the same time.
Well that only worked if you didnt know he was doing it.
Callum took a sip. Its great. Thanks.
Better than the stuff from the canteen anyway. So, Callum: tell me all about Big Johnny Simpson.
Well... He cleared his throat. I want to start by saying Ive never taken a bribe in my life. Ever.
Thats the spirit. Gilmore raised an eyebrow. But...?
No, no buts. He picked his rucksack off the floor and upended the contents onto the table. Three burgundy ring-binders, a Tupperware box, and a banana. He retrieved his lunch and pushed the binders towards Gilmore. Bank statements. Well, building society statements, but its the same thing. Feel free go through them with a nit comb. And if you want to contact the Royal Caledonian, Ill tell them youve got free rein to look at any account Ive got.
I see. That is awfully kind of you. Gilmore stacked them into a neat pile on one side. But in the meantime, a smile pulled his jowls up at the edges, why dont you tell me all about Big Johnny Simpson?
Urgh. Callum dumped the rucksack on his desk. Collapsed into his seat. Powered up his computer. Grabbed his desk phone and called the control room.
Aye, Aye?
Brucie? Any word on my lookout requests?
Hud oan, Ill check...
The office was empty, no sign of Dotty or Watt-the-Moaning-Dick. Theyd been at the murder board, though: no mistaking Watts drunken-spider scrawl.
Didnt look as if theyd made a whole load of progress. The column headed OPEN TASKS had gained a bunch of actions allocated to the pair of them, more on the bottom waiting for someone to take them on. Mostly interviewing friends and family of the three amateur property tycoons. Franklins name appeared on the list only once: ATTEND POST MORTAM ~ 10:30.
Gods sake.
You still there? Aye: Benjamin Harrington, Brett Millar, and Glen Carmichael no sightings. You could get yourself a warrant and see if theyve used their bank cards?
Thanks, Brucie. Callum hung up, then hauled himself out of his chair and over to the board. Wiped the word MORTAM out and wrote MORTEM in the gap. Chief Inspector Gilmore might have been putting on an act, but Watt wasnt. He truly was an idiot.
And what exactly, my dear Constable Callum, are you up to now?
Wonderful: Haiku Boy.
Callum corrected the spelling of INTERVIEW COLLEEGES. Im fixing the murder board.
You keep away from that, young Callum. Thats for grown-ups. McAdams settled on the edge of Dottys desk. While were at it: what time do you call this? Its ten oclock. Shift starts at seven a.m., not whenever you feel like it.
You know fine well where I was.
A grin. Ah yes, Professional Standards. He put one hand on his chest. They interview cops, who are dirty and bent, / To punish their sins, till they wail and lament, / Then cast them down low, in the dirt at their feet, / And I do hope they fired you, cos that would be sweet.
Yeah, go screw yourself, Sarge. Callum chucked the whiteboard marker back onto Watts desk, then sank behind his own. What happened with Dugdale, he cop to it?
Thats no longer your concern, Constable. McAdams checked his watch again. When the lovely DC Franklin gets in, you can give her a lift to the overflow mortuary. Youre going there anyway.
Oh great.
He sagged back in his seat. I am?
Of course you are. As a minor character youve been farmed out onto a subplot: discovering which museums have lost their mummies. Mothers even made you SIO. Isnt that fun?