Really? He was fine with me. Maybe-
What happened with the archives?
Not a lot. Couple of idiots kidnapped a jewellers daughter; animal rights activists dug up someones mum and demanded an end to animal testing at the Rowett; gang grabbed the wife and kids of a bank manager in Ellon so hed let them in to loot the place Rennie stared off into the middle distance. Oh-ho, hold your breath, here comes Biohazard.
Bob was shambling out of the block of student accommodation opposite, jacket over his shoulder, shirtsleeves rolled up to expose two forearms so hairy it looked as if he was wearing a furry pullover. He waved, then ambled over.
Logan turned, looking up at the block behind them. The one where, with any luck, Craig Peterson was currently crapping himself. Waste of time then.
Sorry, Sarge. Rennie rubbed his hands together. So, come on who were you winding up?
Jesus, I bloody hate students. Bunch of animals Bob had a scratch at his pelt, then nodded at Rennie. Constable, what a happy coincidence! Ive got a big list of tosspots who need interviewed.
Rennie shook his head. Sorry, Guv, but Im officially DS McRaes minion till Friday. Were grilling Alison McGregors classmates. McRae and Rennie, at the ready!
Bob raised his arms to the sky, then let them fall back to his sides with a theatrical groan. Logie, youll let me borrow the loon, wont you?
Nope. Soon as were done here we have a nationwide search on historic kidnappings to wade through.
Aw, come on we could divvy up Bruces mates. Three of us, wed get through them in no time.
Goodbye Bob Logan took a step away, then stopped, turned, and went back to the car. You might want to keep an eye on one Tanya Tiggy Marsden. According to Craig Peterson she was Bruces girlfriend, but she says they were just friends.
Bob raised one side of his monobrow. Oh aye, trying to distance herself after the fact? Think shes his dealer?
Doubt it. Logan told him about Stumpy the Dwarven Queen.
A grimace. Thats sod all use The grimace turned into a smile. Still, at least it takes the source off our patch I can fob it off on Tayside. I was going to renege on buying you that pint, but Ive changed my mind. Now lend us the wee loon here, and Ill throw in a packet of crisps.
Logan looked back up at the block of student flats. Someone was staring back down at them. Craig Peterson, stroking his billy-goat beard. Logan made a gun from his thumb and forefinger, pointed it at Peterson, then shot him in the face.
Chapter 32
Logan made a special point of checking up on Petersons alibi. Adrian Kerr: MSc E-Commerce Technology; posters of The Muppet Show, China Town, a football team composed of half-naked women. Nicholas Tawse: Psychology; Citizen Kane, Che Guevara, Monty Pythons Flying Circus.
They both backed up Petersons story of course but it was still fun to make the stuck-up little sods squirm. Petty, but fun.
Logan met up with Rennie back in the car park.
Anything?
Thought a couple were a bit dodgy one was trying to hide a home-made bong, the other got all gooey-eyed every time I mentioned Alison and Jennys names. Swear to God, she had a shrine to them above her bed. Newspaper clippings, magazine articles, signed photos, the lot. I think there was a lock of hair too.
Hair?
Not, like a scalp or anything.
Nobody else?
Nah, mostly theyre just students. Bit of weed, bit of booze, bit of studying, bit of pining away in their rooms wondering why nobody wants to shag them.
Right, lets go pay Alison and Jennys biggest fan a visit.
Good God Rennie hadnt been kidding there really was a shrine above Beatrice Eastbrooks bed. Right in the middle of the wall was an amateurish watercolour portrait of Alison McGregor, Jenny sitting on her knee. Alison had a tinfoil halo that glimmered in the light of two big church candles, arranged either side of a lock of curly blonde hair in a little glass box, tied with a black ribbon and a sprig of heather. Just like the one on Alisons photo of her dead husband.
Around the icon, a sea of newsprint and magazine articles spread out like a tumour. MY SECRET FEARS FOR JENNY WILL FAME DESTROY HER CHILDHOOD?, NORTH-EAST MUM THROUGH TO BNBS SEMI-FINAL, ALISONS SECRET SCHOOLGIRL SHAME: I WAS A TEENAGE TEARAWAY, ADMITS BNBS SEMI-FINALIST, SHES NO ANGEL THE SKELETONS LURKING IN ALISON MCGS CLOSET
That last one had a photo of Victoria Murray, AKA Vicious Vikki, on it, her face scrubbed out with angry red biro, until the paper was tattered and sliced through, the word LIAR!!! scrawled across the article over and over again.
And around the edge, a series of glossy photos the kind you could get printed at pretty much any supermarket these days.
No posters: there wasnt room.
Beatrice Eastbrook would probably have looked like a perfectly normal person a year ago. But Shed dyed her hair blonde, and had it curled to look exactly like Alison McGregors. Her make-up was exactly like Alison McGregors. Her clothes were exactly like Alison McGregors, right down to the shoes.
Probably had a tinfoil-lined hat lying about the place somewhere too.
She twirled the hair behind her ear. Of course I didnt hurt them, why would I hurt them? I love them. The accent was hard to place, a weird mix of Birmingham and Aberdeen as if it wasnt enough to look like Alison McGregor, she was trying to sound like her too. Alison was is fantastic. A superstar. I mean, can you imagine it, someone like that living in Aberdeen, and I know her. She talked to me, like a real person.
And youve no idea who might have taken her?
Beatrices eyes narrowed. If I did, Id kill them. Im not joking Id literally kill them. Strangle them with my own hands. They cut off Jennys toes! What kind of bastard cuts off a little girls toes? She sank back onto the bed and shuffled back, feet on the duvet, knees against her chest. You know what, when you catch them, you should cut off their toes, like in the Bible. Cut them all off and see how they like it.
Did you see anyone strange hanging around her, before she went missing? Trying to talk to her? Other than yourself, of course, you card-carrying nutjob.
I dont remember. Not that I noticed. Well, you know it was always pretty busy, with the photographers hounding her all the time and those bitches pretending to be her friend, just so they could get in the papers. I never did that
Logan nodded. What did she think of your new look?
A frown. Well, she was flattered, obviously. Said I looked lovely. Shes a very generous and giving person.
And she didnt mind when you followed her home? Standing at the door, Rennie opened his mouth, but Logan held up a hand.
I Beatrice blushed. I dont know what you-
The photos around the outside of your mural. He pointed at the glossy pics. Thats Alisons and Jennys house in Kincorth. Look, theres Alison putting the recycling out.
I It was only once.
And there she is taking Jenny to school. And in that one Jennys wearing a tutu. Off to dance classes?
Beatrice rested her head on her knees, speaking into the little hidden gap between them and her chest. I wasnt hurting anyone.
Logan put his notebook down on the desk. Did you see who took Alison and Jenny?
When she looked up, her eyes glittered with tears. I just wanted to be her friend. A real friend, not like those two-faced bitches.
Did you see who took them, Beatrice?
Shes someone special. Shes famous shell leave a mark on the earth that says she was here. Im never going to be famous. Dont matter if I live or die, does it? Dont matter if I was never even born. I just thought, if she could see we had so much in common, we could be friends. I just wanted her to like me
Its OK, Beatrice, I understand. Logan picked up his notebook and stood. Now, if its all right with you, wed like to search your room. Is that OK?
She wiped her eyes, then looked up at the lock of hair in its little glass box. Licked her lips. What do you think theyll do with Jennys toes?
Of course, I spotted those photos the first time, Rennie hauled the pool cars boot open and dumped a handful of evidence bags inside, each one filled, dated, labelled and signed for, just didnt want to prejudice your first impressions. He clunked the boot closed again.
Dont be a dick. Logan climbed into the passenger seat. Fair enough. Rennie got behind the wheel. Worth a try though. Grin. Back to the ranch?
Yeah, then I want you to go through every photo on that camera and laptop. Were looking for someone watching Alison McGregors house.
Other than Beatrice McFruitloop, you mean. He started the engine. How the hell did she manage to get into university? Psychology degree? Talk about physician heal thy-bloody-self.
Maybe shes good at exams. Just make sure- buggering hell. Logans phone was ringing. He pulled it out. McRae.
Told you thered be consequences. Shuggie Webster, sounding stoned out of his box. You happy now? You fucking happy?
Shuggie, youve got to turn yourself in. Turn yourself in and well talk about it.
Its your fault!
Logan checked the display not the same number as before. Where are you?
Consequences. And then Shuggie hung up.
Rennie was looking at him. Sarge?
Back to the ranch. Logan dragged out his Airwave handset, dialled Control and told them to get a GSM trace set up on Shuggies new mobile. If Sheriff McNab gave them a warrant, and the phone company didnt drag its heels, theyd know where Mr Consequences was before clocking off time.
He stuck the handset back in his pocket and watched the halls of residence fade in the rearview mirror. Consequences Then his mobile started ringing again. It was Colin Miller from the Aberdeen Examiner. Got another note.
Logan clutched at the grab handle as Rennie juddered the pool car out of the junction and onto King Street. Are you trying to shake the fillings out of my head?
Laz?
Yeah, sorry, Colin. What are they saying? Let me guess: you have two days left or Jenny will die?
Logan clutched at the grab handle as Rennie juddered the pool car out of the junction and onto King Street. Are you trying to shake the fillings out of my head?
Laz?
Yeah, sorry, Colin. What are they saying? Let me guess: you have two days left or Jenny will die?