We cant What if Sean calls?
Calls? Hes got a mobile?
The mother and father exchanged a worried look, then Mr Morrison said, We dont believe children should have them. You know: brain tumours. He collapsed into an armchair, looking on the verge of tears. He could be anywhere
Just to be on the safe side, Steel sent Logan off to check the shed and garage again, while she stayed inside in the warm with another cup of tea. The search team had been thorough the garage was a mess, everything piled up in one corner. Paint tins, boxes of household junk, three sets of skis, one windsurfer, more junk. Logan peered into all the cupboards, under the work top, into the chest freezer, but Sean wasnt there. And he wasnt in the shed either, or hiding in the garden.
Logan went back inside and searched every room, including the washing machine and tumble drier you never knew what an eight-year-old kid could fit inside if it put its mind to it. Nearly an hour after hed started, Logan clambered down from the attic, coughing from the dust, little bits of rock wool insulation sticking to his suit.
DI Steel was standing there waiting for him. Well?
Nothing. He wiped a hand over his face, trying to get rid of a cobweb.
Ah well, it was worth a go.
They marched out through the knot of journalists and back to the car, ignoring the shouted questions, keeping their heads down till they were safely ensconced in the scabby CID Vauxhall Logan had signed for. Steel squinted out through the windscreen at the Morrison house. What do you think, she asked, he going to come home?
Logan nodded and turned the engine over. You should have seen his room; kids got more stuff than I do. Parents must spoil him rotten. One night out in the cold and hell be desperate to get home.
Are you mental? He just knifed an old man and a policewoman. Hes no Christopher Bloody Robin. I think the vicious little bastards got somewhere to lie low
Well, he cant stay hidden for ever, said Logan, pulling away from the kerb and pointing the car back towards FHQ, he only got fifty quid from Cochranes wallet and its not like he can actually spend it cant be a single person in Aberdeen who doesnt know what he looks like by now. Theyd tried telling the media that Sean was just a missing child, released his picture and asked anyone who saw him to come forward, but one of the witnesses from the St Nicholas Centre spotted the photo on the news, rang up the Daily Record and IDd Sean as the kid whod knifed Jerry Cochrane. And the press had a field day EIGHT-YEAR-OLD KILLER! THE NEW FACE OF EVIL! SCHOOLBOY KILLS OAP! it had made every second-edition front page in Scotland and quite a few south of the border too. We could try following his mates; someones got to be getting food to him?
She thought about it for a moment, head on one side, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Nah, thatll take for ever. If I was him Id be on the first bus south to London, or Brighton, or some other godforsaken hole.
Hes eight.
Blah, blah, blah. When did you last have anything to do with kids, eh? Eights the new thirteen. Oh, they look like butter wouldnt bloody melt, but theyre smacked out their tits half the time trying to get each other pregnant. She pulled out her cigarettes, shoogled the packet, then put it away again with a sigh. Lets get the little bastards picked up and dragged down to the station: give them the fright of their lives. See if one of themll shop him. And youd better check the CCTV for the train and bus station too. And get some uniforms down there to speak to the drivers Oh, and when youve got that lot organized, you might as well do that update report on Jason Fettes. No point sitting about twiddling your thumbs all day, is there?
By the time Logan had finished doing the inspectors job for her, the first of Sean Morrisons little chums was sitting in interview room number two with her father. There was an unpleasant smell of stale socks and ancient coffee with an underlying whiff of sour garlic, slowly marinating everyone present. DI Steel sat back in her cheap, plastic chair and stared at the little girl sitting opposite. Natalie Lenox: eight years old; long, dark brown hair; pale face; all her fingernails bitten down to tiny nubs; a furious scowl pulling at her chubby features. Her father was a bigger version of the same thing, only without the hair. He glowered as Logan wheeled a trolley with a TV and video on it into the corner and plugged them in. I want my lawyer present.
Steel sighed. Weve been through this. Twice. No lawyer.
Then Im not saying anything more.
Thats fine with me, keep your trap shut and Ill speak to Natalie instead.
Shes not saying anything either.
The inspector put on her most charming smile, which wasnt saying much. If you continue to be obstructive Mr Lenox Ill have you replaced by an appropriate adult, how about that?
You cant do that!
Want a bet? Natalie here was involved in the murder of a seventy-two-year-old man, I think-
She had nothing to do with it! He poked his child in the shoulder. Tell them, tell them you had nothing to do with it.
I hid nuthin to dae with it. The kids accent was broad Aberdonian, and as sullen as her mashed-potato face. Nuthin.
Uh huh. Steel told Logan to start the tape. Then how do you explain this? The screen flickered, a jagged line of static creeping upwards, revealing the inside of the Union Street end of the St Nicholas Centre. People wandered past, laden down with shopping bags and baby buggies, and then a pregnant woman lurched into view, carrying a huge handbag and a plastic carrier from The Body Shop. Shed just passed the lottery booth when half a dozen children arrived most wearing hooded tops, keeping their faces shielded from the camera. The inspector hit pause. Bottom left, the girl in the green top.
She hit play and the girl darted forward, banging into the pregnant woman hard enough to make her drop her handbag. The woman staggered, the girl helping her stay on her feet, grinning up at her, mouth going twenty to the dozen. It was Natalie Lenox her fat little face and long hair clearly visible on the screen probably apologizing for being so clumsy while two of her friends helped pick up the nice ladys things. Helping themselves to her purse in the process. Sean Morrison handed the bag back with a modest tilt of the head, but the pregnant woman wasnt buying it. She grabbed him by the sleeve and started shouting.
I Natalies father licked his top lip and tried again. So she bumped into someone. Thats not a crime.
This isnt the first time. Weve had about a dozen other complaints of bags, wallets and purses being stolen. All the victims remember being banged into by a little girl and her friends. Want to bet they recognize Natalie when we show them her picture?
On the screen Sean lashed out, catching the pregnant woman on the side of the head, sending her crashing to the ground. She didnt let go, so he put the boot in. And that was when Jerry Cochrane ran into shot. At the sides of the picture shoppers stopped to stare as the old man hauled Sean off the woman. Holding him by the scruff of the neck, shouting. Sean hit him. And the old man hit him back, smack: right across the nose. And thats when it happened the flash of a knife blade, and a startled expression on Jerry Cochranes face. He sat down hard, letting go of Sean. The eight-year-old started laying into the old man with fists and feet, while a gathering crowd of shoppers looked on in shock. And then all the kids were at it, punching and kicking. Steel hit pause, so they could all see Natalie Lenox kicking Jerry Cochrane in the head.
So, said Steel, still think she had nothing to do with it?
Mr Lenox, went very pale. I
Steel switched the TV off. I want to know where Sean Morrison is. And I want to know now.
The little girl just scowled at them.
Her father swallowed hard. Then skelped her over the back of the head. Tell them!
Nothing.
Put it this way, said the inspector, youre probably looking at a spell in a young offenders institution. Locked up with all the other nasty little boys and girls. No mummy and daddy to look after you and buy you nice things.
They they cant send her to prison! Shes only eight!
Logan shrugged. Thats the legal age of criminal responsibility in Scotland, Mr Lenox. Vicious attack like that, a man dead. Shes likely to get four, maybe five years. Shell be a teenager by the time she gets out. Youd be surprised how much they can change.
Oh God. Mr Lenox covered his mouth with a shaking hand. Itll kill her mother!
Unless she helps us catch Sean Morrison. Then maybe we could have a word with the Procurator Fiscal, convince her that Natalie wants to make amends ?
She does! You do, dont you?
But Natalie just glared at her father, hot, angry tears making her eyes shine. Like Sean Morrisons knife.
14
Jesus, said Steel slouching back against the interview-room wall, clutching a half-empty cup of coffee to her chest. Ive interviewed mass murderers with more humanity in them. She shivered. Thank God I never wanted kids Creepy little fuckers.
So far theyd had three of Sean Morrisons gang in for interview and not one of them was prepared to spill the beans on his whereabouts. But they each came attached to a hysterical, panicking parent who had no idea what their darling child had been up to. Until they saw the CCTV footage.
The inspector swirled the filmy-brown liquid around in her mug. You know, when I was a kid we respected our elders Well, maybe no respected, but you knew if you gave some old fart lip theyd tan your arse for you. And then theyd tell your mum and dad, so they could do the same. She nodded sagely, and took another gulp. Speaking of arses, have you seen Rennie?
Why, whats he done? And suddenly Logan thought of a container yard in Altens. He frowned, trying to figure out why.
Nothing, thats the bloody problem, I she trailed off, staring at Logan. What: you daydreaming about my creamy white thighs again?
Zander Clark.
Who?
The guy who runs the porn studio he didnt ask what Jason had done. When we asked him who the guy on the DVD was. He didnt ask.
Aaaaaaaand?