Honestly, some people think the rules apply to everybody but them, dont they? He checked a clipboard. Now: Callum MacGregor?
A nod.
Right, Im afraid weve got a bit of a problem with your ear.
Of course they did.
You see, our cosmetic surgery department were going to try and reattach the bit that was... well, bit off. Unfortunate turn of phrase there, sorry. Only a wee girls come in with third-degree burns. She tipped a boiling kettle all over herself. Shes four.
Callum slumped back against the wall. She going to be OK?
We hope so, theyre taking her into surgery now. But shes going to need a lot of skin grafts. So...?
He covered his face with his hands. You cant fix my ear.
Im sorry, Mr MacGregor, but the little girl...
Yeah. I know. She needs it more than I do.
But I can stitch up the wound and give you some antibiotics and painkillers. Have you had a tetanus shot in the last ten years? Oh, and well need to take some bloods to test for Hepatitis and HIV.
And to think, this morning a visit to Professional Standards was the worst thing that could happen.
20
Franklin kept sneaking glances at him across the car.
He frowned back at her. What?
Nothing.
The road in front was a long line of vehicles, slowly crawling along in a stop-start-stop-again line. Traffic going the other way was doing the same. Giving everyone time to enjoy the rain.
Hows the ear?
Sore. Hows the head?
She shrugged. I dodged the tower unit, it was the keyboard that got me.
Then they listened to the windscreen wipers for a bit, until Callum reached out and clicked on the radio. Should be about time for the news. Unless you mind?
No.
Something bland and unthreatening filled the car, the beat just far enough out of time with the wipers week-wonk to be annoying.
I can switch it off if you like?
Nah, its OK.
She was looking at him again.
Look, theres obviously something, so
Why didnt they send you home?
His fingers drifted up to the wodge of bandage covering his poor tattered ear. At least it didnt hurt. Not right now anyway. Amazing what a wee injection of local anaesthetic could do. Going to be nearly six before we get there at this rate.
The song on the radio dribbled to an end. Wasnt that spectonkular? You, my friend, are listening to Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrazy Colins Rush-Hour Drive-Time Club, right here on Castlewave FM, and were counting down the days to Tartantula! Oh yes indeedy-doody.
Franklin curled her top lip. Why do they always have to be wankers?
Going to be windup oclock in fifteen minutes, but first heres Gorgeous Gabby with the Naughty News!
I think they grow them in special septic tanks.
Thanks, Colin. Police Scotland refused to comment on claims that a new serial killer is operating in Oldcastle, following the discovery of three mummified bodies yesterday
Three?
Callum let his head fall back against the rest. Didnt anyone tell you? Oldcastle Division leaks like a chocolate condom. At least it wasnt anyone on the team we all know how many mummies weve got.
appeal for calm. A house fire in Logansferry this morning was probably arson, according to Fire Brigade sources. A mother of four was rushed to hospital suffering from smoke inhalation
Unless whoever leaked said there were three mummies instead of two, so no one would think the informant was on the team?
Youre very cynical, Detective Constable Franklin.
announcing road closures for this weeks Tartantula Music Festival. Diversions will be in place from Friday lunchtime, add in all the planned roadworks south of the river on Saturday and we can expect significant delays.
In Dantes Divine Comedy, Hell was divided into nine circles, each devoted to punishing a particular group of sinners. But up here, in the land of the living, it was roadworks and rush hour.
In Dantes Divine Comedy, Hell was divided into nine circles, each devoted to punishing a particular group of sinners. But up here, in the land of the living, it was roadworks and rush hour.
And speaking of the festival, we managed to track down Oldcastles very own Leo McVey earlier and asked him about Sundays grand finale performance of his 1980s concept album, Open the Coffins.
Franklin turned up the radio and a dark warm voice gravelled out of the speakers. Yeah, its going to be great. I mean weve got some great acts joining us on stage: Lucys Drowning, Mister Bones, Halfhead, Closed for Refurbishment, Catnip Jane, Donny Sick Dawg McRoberts, and loads of others, you know? Great.
The car crawled forward.
Callum puffed out his cheeks. Itll pick up a bit when we get onto the dual carriageway.
And were not just doing highlights, right? Were doing the whole album, start to finish.
Lets face it, the traffic couldnt get any slower.
A line of tail-lights, glowing like the fires of hell, flaring in the falling rain.
The publics reactions been great. Its kinda humbling that they still love it after all these years. And Im loving strutting about like King of the Jungle again. Makes me wish Id come out of retirement years ago. A laugh, black as treacle.
Franklin smiled. I loved Open the Coffins. We listened to it non-stop when I was at university. Drove the woman downstairs mad...
And all the moneys going to charity, right? Which is great. Everyones giving up their time and their talent to raise money for Alzheimers research, cos of Ray, you know?
Havent heard it for ages.
a terrible shame. I mean the books genius, yeah? My kids loved it, my grandkids love it, I still love it. Open the Coffins: best childrens book ever written, thats what I think.
Leo McVey there. And you can catch him this Sunday at Tartantula, but tickets are going fast, with all proceeds
She turned and frowned across the car at him. You didnt answer the question: why didnt they send you home?
diagnosed with Alzheimers last year. Weather now, and it looks like were stuck with this rain till
He clicked the radio off again. Whats the point of going home early? Wont bring my ear back.
Besides, if he went home hed have to explain what happened to Elaine. My earlobe and that gristly bit above it? Oh, nothing much: they were bitten off by a junkie. But at least my HIV test came back negative. Elaine? Hello, Elaine?
He shrugged. At least this way I get the overtime. Need all we can get with Peanut on the way. Do you have any idea how much it costs to raise a kid these days?
Finally the roundabout onto the main road crawled into view. Buses and eighteen-wheelers sending up huge drifts of spray, drenching the smaller cars.
Urgh. Franklin crawled the car forward, bumper inches away from the people carrier theyd been stuck behind since leaving the hospital. All it ever does in this sodding town is rain.
Sometimes. He drew a frowny face in the mist that crept up the passenger window. Did they get any sense out of Brett Millar?
Still off his face on mushrooms. Franklin tapped her fingers against the steering wheel, syncopating with the windscreen wipers. They even tried giving him a shot of Narcan; didnt make any difference though.
Yeah, well magic mushrooms arent opioids, are they? Not surprised it didnt work.
At least they tried.
He drew angry eyebrows on the frowny face. So weve got Ben Harrington dead in the bath, Brett Millars so high he can orbit the International Space Station, and Glen Carmichael is missing... You know what I think? I think the three of them arent serial killers, theyre victims. You saw how emaciated Brett Millar was. Hes been starved.
When did you ever meet a fat junkie? Maybe hes... Franklin closed her eyes and swore. Benjamin Harrington. Weve still got to deliver the death message.
Oh for Gods sake. Callum peered through the rain-smeared windscreen.
Traffic was solid northbound, so getting over Calderwell Bridge was going to be a nightmare. He checked his watch. No point even trying till rush hours gone. Stick to the plan: at least its moving southbound.
Assuming he hadnt just jinxed it.
What if they find out from the radio, or some scumbag journalist doorsteps them?
They wont. Fingers crossed, anyway. We pick up Dr McDonald and we head to the flat in Castleview. By the time shes finished poking around, rush hour will have died down and we can sling past Ben Harringtons parents on the way back to the station.
Franklin edged them closer to the car in front, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed. Of course, the real question is: if Brett Millars running about all over Blackwall Hill, out of his head on magic mushrooms, wheres Glen Carmichael?
Hes already dead.
21
AAAAAAAARGH! The bucket sails through the musty air and bursts against the wall. Water makes a comets trail, soaking into the bricks.
Where the hell is he?
He should be right there chained to the wall, but hes not.
Instead, the chain sits on the ground, coiled like a snake. Venomous and treacherous. Useless. Four screws lie in the dirt, still in their Rawlplug shells, torn from the mouldering brickwork, letting the tie-up ring come free from the wall. Its still fixed to the end of the chain by its padlock. The traitorous useless chain.
You had ONE JOB!
He grabs it up and hurls it away into the gloom. It clangs and clatters against the long-dead boiler, hissing its way into a deceitful pile.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!
All that time. All that energy. All those sacred herbs wasted.
Weeks and weeks of work. Gone, just like that.
He grinds his teeth, whole body trembling, blood surging in his ears. Whoom. Whoom. Whoom...
How could he be so stupid?
Once Upon A Time
Theres a jackdaw hanging on the fence behind the house. Like a little black kite, caught on its own strings. Wings outstretched. Beak hanging open. Eyes like marbles thatve been rolled too many times on rough concrete and gravel, till theyre all white and scratched.
The jackdaw is dead.
Everything dies.
He reaches out and touches its feathers. Theyre cold and soft.
Sometimes things die because theyre old, or ill, and sometimes they die because Father makes them dead. Sometimes they get hung from the fence with wasp-eaten wooden clothes pegs. And sometimes they get buried in the cold dark ground.
Justin stands in the kitchen, sniffling. Outside the sun is going down, making the fields look like theyre bleeding.
The fields are bleeding and the house is full of smoke.