The next one slammed into Logans arm again.
Always on the right side Shuggie was using his left fist, saving his right
Logans head bounced off the units, but this time he dropped his guard and grabbed the bloody bandage, wrapped his fingers around Shuggies right hand and squeezed hard.
Chapter 29
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Shuggies face went pale.
Logan jerked the hand to the side, digging his nails in.
FUCK! The big man slapped at Logans wrist, scrabbled backwards. Out of reach. FUCK! Eyes wide, a string of spittle spiralling down from his open mouth. And then he lurched forward and stomped on the table, sending Logan crashing back to the linoleum.
Fuck Shuggie lurched out of the room, clutching his bloody hand to his chest.
Logan could hear him staggering down the hall, bumping into the wall, the crash and tinkle of framed pictures hitting the floor. Then the front door slammed.
So much for everything going easier than last time.
Get up. Get up and charge after him. Tackle him on the stairs and crack the bastards head off the concrete walls. Slap the cuffs on. Then kick him in the balls
Logan slumped back against the soggy lino.
Sod that.
Just lie here a minute. Catch his breath.
His right arm throbbed.
Willy Cunninghams hairy face appeared above him, one eye already heading from lurid pink to post-box red, the skin around it swelling and darkening. You OK?
No. He shoved the table away, and struggled to his feet. Then stood for a minute, holding onto the working surface.
Bloody hell Willy turned on the spot, arms held out from his sides. Look at the place. Mollys going to kill me!
DI Steels gravelly voice came from the hallway. Little help?
Logan cradled his battered arm, scowling. Where the hell were you?
A single black-shoed foot appeared in the doorway, about two-feet off the ground, toe pointing upward, followed by a short length of crumpled sock, a flash of bare ankle, then a wrinkled grey trouser leg. Argh.
He picked his way across the beer-and-milk-slicked linoleum to the door.
She was lying on her back, tangled up in the chair Shuggie had tried to take Logans head off with. The battered carton of cream lay beside her, its contents splattered all over her.
Steel wiped her eyes, flicking droplets of thick white against the walls. Sodding hell Pfffffffp Ack She stared at her hands, her arms, her chest all dripping with double cream. Smeared another handful from her cheeks and chin. Now I know what it feels like to star in a porn film
Logan hauled her to her feet. You were a lot of bloody good. She scowled. He threw a chair at me! What was I supposed to do?
What happened to, Youve got to keep an eye on people like Shuggie, Cant bury your head in the sand and expect them to behave, Thats just common sense?
Oh shut up.
And an orange-and-soda for the big girls blouse. Big Gary clunked the pint glass down on the coffee table in front of Rennie.
Im driving, OK? The constable took a sip.
The Athenaeum was relatively quiet for a Sunday night, meaning theyd managed to bag two of the big saggy sofas, with a view out onto the Castlegate: a couple trying to conceive in the bus stop, some drunken singing, a lone idiot marching up and down with a placard proclaiming JESUS WILL SAVE ALISON AND JENNY IF YOU BELIEVE!
Logan reached for his pint of Stella, winced, then tried with his left hand instead. His whole right arm was seizing up, probably covered in thick black bruises. Sodding Shuggie Webster
Big Gary levered his huge arse down into a creaking sofa. Raised his Guinness. To Superintendent Green our man from SOCA may his life be long and plagued with piles.
Doreen clinked her white wine against Garys glass. And verrucas.
Steel joined in. Impotence.
Logan: Anal leakage.
Rennie: Premature ejaculation!
Steel hit him. How can he have premature ejaculation if hes impotent, you tit?
Ow! Just means if he ever does get it up, its going to be sod all use to him.
Big Gary nodded. The loons got a point.
Meh. Steel tried her whisky, following it down with a big glug of IPA. Right, before we all get irredeemably blootered, how do we find Alison and Jenny McGregor?
Doreen groaned, let her head fall back until she was staring at the ceiling. Ive been doing this all bloody day!
Tell that to a wee girl whos no got her little toes any more.
Rennie popped open a packet of cheese and onion. What about the forensic thing? I mean, they dont leave a single trace thats not normal, is it?
And?
Shrug. Maybe we should, you know, be looking at police officers? Or the IB? Maybe someone retired, or fired, or something?
And?
Shrug. Maybe we should, you know, be looking at police officers? Or the IB? Maybe someone retired, or fired, or something?
Doreen nodded. Would make sense. Theyd have motive for making the rest of us look like idiots.
Steels mouth fell open, eyes wide. She snapped her fingers. Thats brilliant! Rennie, youre a genius!
The constable sat up straight. Well, sometimes its-
Why did no one think of that earlier? A whole squad of highly experienced officers, and no one thought to look at the forensics angle. Youre some sort of deductive god!
Rennies shoulders sagged a bit. What?
We certainly havent had a team looking into that for the last week and a bit!
Oh
Steel hit him again. Twit.
Logan helped himself to one of Rennies crisps. What about the students in her psychology class?
Steel sucked her teeth for a moment. McPhersons looking into it, I think. Well, him or Evans. Dont see a bunch of spotty layabouts managing to pull this off though, do you? Theyd have to get up in the morning. Be too busy analysing each others bumholes.
No, Im going home. Logan stood. His shins bumped the low table, setting the graveyard of empty glasses clinking against each other. Samanthas waiting.
The pub had got busier, the noise level rising with the alcohol consumption.
A group of middle-aged women, dressed in clothes far too young for them, were singing Happy Birthday to You for about the sixth time, complete with shrieks of laughter. Rennie had been sent over to complain, and returned with a paper plate heaped with slices of chocolate cake and a cheek smeared with bright-red lipstick.
Aw, go on. The constable waggled his third pint of Tennents at Logan. One more for the road!
Thought you were driving?
Rennie shook his head. Emma says shell come get me. Grin. Isnt she great?
Doreen tipped the last of the white wine into her glass, and sagged. Everyones got someone to go home to, but me
DS Bob Marshall appeared through the throng, carrying a fresh pint of something dark. You can come home with us, if you like, Doors? You me and Deborah can re-enact the Swinging Sixties. He gave her a big leering wink.
Urgh Doreen shuddered. I think I just threw up a little.
Charming. He dragged a seat over. Paused, wrinkled his top lip and sniffed. Why can I smell cheese?
Logan pulled on his stained jacket. Dont worry, Im leaving.
Bob hump-shuffled his chair closer to the table. Surprised I can smell anything at all: Stinky Tam was like Actually, you dont want to know. But Jesus, what a stench. Found him in the bushes at the side of the road, all bloated and leaky and bits falling off. Pretty sure the rats had been at him too.
Doreen scowled. You were right, we didnt want to know.
How can someone drop dead in the middle of the city, and no bastard notices, eh? A slurp of beer. Idve been here ages ago, but those GED bastards dragged me off to some poor sod whod topped himself. General Enquiries Division my arse Gormless Evil Dickheads more like. Another slurp. Anyway, so come on then: whos the bird with Steel?
With the dark hair? Big Gary peered over Doreens head towards the bar.
Logan turned and did the same. DI Steel was just visible through the throng, her hand on the small of some womans back. Curly dark hair shot through with grey; jeans and a tight silk shirt; glasses perched on the top of her head; party hat set at a jaunty angle.
Steel leaned in and said something. The woman laughed, setting an impressive set of bosoms jiggling.
Logan edged his way out from the table and made for the door. Stopped. Then turned and waded through the crowd to the bar. He tapped Steel on the shoulder. Thats me away.
She turned, her eyes narrowing for a moment. Good for you. Then back to whispering something in her new friends ear.
The woman threw her head back and gave another cleavage-wobbling laugh. Oh, Honey, you are priceless. American accent.
Logan forced a smile and grabbed hold of Steels arm. Excuse us a minute. He pulled her away to the nearest alcove. What are you doing?
Steel shook herself free. Fuck does it look like Im doing? Im talking to-
Youre married, remember?
The inspectors mouth became a hard thin line. Since when is it any of your bloody business what-
You really need me to answer that?
Pink flushed up her cheeks. Then she looked away. Im just having a bit of fun, OK? Its no like Im going to shag her or anything. Steel stuck both hands against her forehead, pulling the wrinkles away. Sighed. Susan says shes still no ready. Been nearly a year. A year, and shes still wont Im only fucking human, Laz.
Just Just dont do something youre going to regret.
Aye. She patted him on the arm. Thanks.
Logan stepped out into the bustle of Union Street: the rumble of buses, the wailing screech of seagulls, that idiot with the JESUS! sign singing some sort of hymn in a broken falsetto. The streets were still wet from the last downpour, shining in the evening light.
He sidestepped a teenager with a cigarette dangling out the corner of her mouth, a mobile phone clamped to her ear, and a wee kid strapped into a buggy.
Yeah Yeah, I know, but hes a total wanker, so what can you do? Click-clacking on too-high heels.
Logan glanced back through the Athenaeums windows, and there was DI Steel, back at the bar, with her arm around the buxom party girl.
Christs sake
You know what: he wasnt her mother. If she wanted to screw everything up, she was on her own.
Youre a big baby, theres nothing to see. Samantha settled back on the couch.
You sure? Logan peered at his right arm There, thats a bruise.
Thats dirt. She clapped her hands, once. Come on then, lets see the other one.