He hefted the laptop bag over his shoulder. Anyone found Shuggie yet?
If the buggers got any brains hell be lying low in Dundee or Glasgow by now. Blending in with the scheemie smack-heads till the heat dies down.
Logan stood. Thats me off.
Right Right. Bell finished off the last chunk of toast, washing it down with whatever was in the mug. Im not going to have to give you another call at three in the morning, am I?
Christ, I hope not.
Logan stuck his head through the open door to the main incident room. It was a bit swankier than the one hed commandeered on the fourth floor: Finnie had a complete set of carpet tiles for a start. It was lined with whiteboards and flipcharts, full of desks seating for about thirty officers its own photocopier, and a small glass-walled office in one corner so the Chief Inspector could keep an eye on his troops.
Theyd set up a screen on the wall furthest from the door, a roof-mounted projector flickering away in the darkened room. Playing the latest video from Jenny and Alisons kidnappers.
Finnie, Superintendent Green, Doreen, and a handful of officers were watching as the camera panned across to Jennys feet.
Green held up a hand. Stop it there. Go back a bit
The picture lurched into reverse. OK, freeze. He stood and walked to the screen, took a chunky pen out of his pocket and pointed at the image. Click, and a little red dot appeared on the wall of the graffiti-covered squat, tracing around the timestamp in the bottom right corner. Eleven thirty-two. Now look at the patterns of light on the floor.
The little red dot traced the shadows and highlights that fell across the bare floorboards. I have some very clever boffins in Edinburgh who can work out the position of the sun at eleven thirty-two this morning, relative to Aberdeen. We combine that with the angle of incidence on the shadows and thatll give us a good idea of where this was filmed.
One of the uniformed officers whistled. Fucking hell Green turned, a smile on his face, one eyebrow raised. I know: impressive, isnt it? It wont give us an exact address, but itll let us know roughly which part of the city we should be looking at. Then we search every derelict property in that area.
Logan frowned.
Finnie nodded. Excellent.
Greens chest came out a notch. Ill get them onto it.
Erm, sir? Logan shifted the laptop bag on his shoulder. Are you sure?
The head of CID turned in his seat and gave him a rubbery scowl. Tell me, Sergeant McRae, do you have a better idea?
Its just that-
Youve been going through the files for an hour and He checked his watch. Ten minutes, and youve already solved the case, all on your own?
Logan could feel the heat rushing up his cheeks. No, sir. I just think we should take another look at the footage before we go running off to SOCAs technical services.
Really? Superintendent Green leaned back against a desk, that TV smile of his slipping into a frown. And why is that? Exactly.
The kidnappers always take a lot of trouble to make sure we never get any forensic evidence. Why wouldnt they do the same with the video?
Green pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. Sighed. Shook his head. Its a video, Sergeant they cant control the angle and position of the sun. Now, if we can get back to the footage?
But they can control the timestamp on the camera.
Green froze, half-turned back to the screen. What?
You have to set the time manually every time you change the battery. He pointed at the little digital readout. Eleven thirty-two: the media briefing didnt even start till eleven. And what about the newspaper?
Its todays, so I dont-
The Edinburgh Evening Post headline was about the toe not being Jennys. How did they manage to write the article, print the newspaper, get it up to Aberdeen, and sell it in a shop, all in under thirty-two minutes? The paper doesnt even go to press till mid-day. I checked.
Ah Green nodded. I see. Well, thats a very valid point. He turned back to face the screen. Thank you, Sergeant.
Anyway, Logan pointed at the graffiti-covered room, projected on the back wall, just wanted to grab a copy of the video, if theres one going spare?
Theres one here. Doreen dug a CD in a clear plastic case from a folder on the desk beside her, then handed it over. Whispering. Youve made him look like a complete idiot. She gave Logans hand a squeeze. Thanks.
It was raining, pea-sized drops of lukewarm water that turned the pavement dark grey.
There was no point going out the front the crowd was back in force, even with the horrible weather, huddling under thrumming umbrellas, being outraged for all the camera crews. The Lodge Walk entrance was just as bad, full of journos sheltering from the downpour while they waited to pounce on anyone leaving FHQ. So Logan hid the laptop bag under his jacket, trying to keep the thing dry as he hurried down the ramp from the Rear Podium and nipped through the little bit at the back of the Arts Centre.
Tonight the billboard sign outside the newsagent on King Street read, EVENING EXPRESS: JENNYS TORTURE CAN WE RAISE ENOUGH TO SAVE HER? the white paper insert going nearly transparent as it soaked up the rain.
The other side had, ABERDEEN EXAMINER: TOE TERROR OF BRAVE JENNY KIDNAPPERS PROVE ITS NO HOAX. He stopped off and bought a copy of both, then hurried down Marischal Street.
It was getting colder, the rain leaching the heat from the city. His breath steamed around his head as he unlocked the buildings front door and dripped up the stairs to the flat.
You in?
Samanthas voice came from the lounge. Hurry up, its just about to start.
Oh joy.
Logan draped his jacket over a chair in the kitchen, moved the chair in front of the hot oven, grabbed a cold tin of Stella from the fridge, and made it back to the lounge in time to catch the opening titles.
Alison and Jenny McGregor
BRITAINS NEXT BIG STAR! TRIBUTE SPECIAL
With Special Guests
He sank into the sofa next to Samantha. Chucking it down out there.
Youre cutting it a bit fine, arent you?
Logan fought with his soggy laces, then kicked his shoes off. Lasagne in?
She raised her tin of lager. Bottoms up.
Cheering burst from the television speakers as the camera swooped in over an excited audience to a big black triangular stage, polished to a mirror sheen, surrounded by hoops of red, green, and blue neon. Above the stage, three screens flashed from a red skull and crossbones to a green tick, the words, MARTINE, CHRIS, and SOPHIE picked out in glowing white Perspex beneath them.
Logan pulled off his damp socks as the camera came to rest on two youngish looking blokes in black suits and black ties. Who the hell are they?
One on the left used to present Blue Peter, one on the right does a comedy thing on Channel Four.
So what, theyre some kind of bargain basement Ant and Dec?
Shhhhhh Theyre doing the intro.
It was a bizarre concept a TV talent show doing a tribute to two of its contestants, by getting celebrities to come on and do cover versions of the cover versions Alison and Jenny McGregor did in order to get on the show and become the kind of celebrity that got asked to do tribute shows
The first couple of acts were OK. But after every one the camera would zoom in on the row of judges for their comments.
Logan took another slurp of Stella. Whats the point? Not like they can say anything nasty, is it?
And then a familiar figure bounded onto the stage. Gordon Maguire, head of Blue-Fish-Two-Fish Productions, dressed in the same Reservoir Dogs get-up as not-Ant-and-Dec. He waited for the applause to die down. Thanks, guys. This has been one hell of a rollercoaster. First we thought Jenny was dead. Then the police told us theyd made a mistake, and she was still alive after all!
A cheer went up. And then, we all saw that horrible video this afternoon.
That didnt get a cheer.
The record producer nodded. I know, I know. They told us we had fourteen days to raise enough money to save Jenny and Alisons lives well weve only got four days left. I want to remind everyone that the charity single is on iTunes, Amazon, and Britains NextBigStar.com, or you can buy it at HMV. All proceeds are going to pay the ransom
Samantha shifted on the couch, a little line puckering the skin between her neatly-trimmed eyebrows. Hes a greasy little shite, isnt he?
Hmmm Logan crumpled the empty tin. Oh, I saw the Reverend today. Hes got a new dog collar black leather with silver studs. I quite fancy one if youre feeling flush.
On screen, Maguire finished his rousing speech to a standing ovation. Then there were comments of support from the judges. And then Lily Allen doing the McGregors version of Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band.
And viewers, tonight you can vote for which of our celebrities will perform Wind Beneath My Wings at the end of the show.
Yes, and dont forget: every phone call you make contributes towards the Alison and Jenny Freedom Fund
Samantha turned the volume up. He wants to know if youre using the lotion.
What is this, Silence of the Lambs?
You have to use the lotion. Do you want it to get infected?
Im using the lotion. Logan stood. You want another beer?
She raised her tin. Check on the lasagne when youre there?
It looked like pretty much every ready-meal vegetarian lasagne hed ever seen, bubbling away in its little oven-proof plastic tray. Smelled good, though. He pulled another two tins from the fridge.
The Alison and Jenny Freedom Fund who the hell came up with that one? Made them sound like terrorists
He popped open the cupboard above the fridge, hunting for crisps. Then groaned: his mobile was ringing, deep in the pocket of his steaming jacket. Logan shifted the chair and went rummaging until he found it. The number was withheld.
Sod it then. They could wait till he was on duty.
Unless it was something important.
Maybe Superintendent Green was calling to say he was sorry for being such a cock. That he didnt realize what a deductive genius Logan was. That he wished he hadnt picked Doreen to be his babysitter.
Not that Logan was jealous. The man was a prick after all. But what did Doreen have that he didnt? Other than boobs. And an ex-husband whod run away with a social worker called Steve?
He hit the pick-up button. McRae.