The radio was playing, a BBC-style received-pronunciation voice drifting out into the cold night air. siege enters its fourth day at Iglesia de la Azohia in La Azohia, Spain. Cartagena Police confirm that one hostage has been killed
I climbed inside and dumped the black-plastic bag containing pretty much everything I owned in the footwell. Paused for a quick scratch at the ankle monitor weighing down my left leg.
by three armed men as worshipers held a candlelit vigil
A uniformed PC sat behind the wheel. His eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror, checking me out as Jacobson scrambled into the passenger seat.
bringing the death toll to six-
Jacobson clicked the radio off. Ash, this is Constable Cooper. Hes one of your lot. Hamish, say hello to Mr Henderson.
The PC turned in his seat. Thin with a long hooked nose, hair cut so short it was more like designer stubble. He nodded. Sir.
Been a while since anyone had called me that. Even a sour-faced git like Cooper.
Jacobson pulled on his seatbelt. Right, Ash, Ill tell you what I told Hamish when they seconded him to us. I dont care how much history youve got with your Oldcastle Police buddies, you report to me, no one else. I get so much as a whiff of you blabbing to any of them, and youre going right back where I found you. This is not a jolly, this is not an opportunity for sabotage or personal glory, this is a team effort and by Christ you will take it seriously. A smile. Welcome to Operation Tigerbalm. He reached across the gap between the two front seats and thumped Cooper on the shoulder. Drive. And if Im not there for eight, youre screwed.
The constable eased the Range Rover out of the prison car park and out onto the street. I swivelled around in my seat to watch the place disappear through the tinted rear windscreen. Out. Free. No more review meetings. No more random beatings.
No more bars.
So much for Lens catch twenty-two.
My hands around her throat, squeezing
I caught the grin: stopped it before it could spread. Settled back into my seat. So, what, theyre reinstating me?
Jacobson gave a half-laugh half-snort. With your record? No chance there isnt a police division in Scotland thatd touch you with a stick. Youre out because youre useful to me. Do well, help me catch the Inside Man, and Ill make your release permanent. But any screwing up, any dicking about, any sign that youre not giving one hundred and ten percent, and I will drop you like a radioactive jobbie.
Lovely.
He popped open the glove compartment and pulled out a manila folder. Passed it back between the seats as Cooper took us around the roundabout onto a quiet country road with streetlights at the end of it, glittering in the darkness.
Conditions of release?
Case file on Claire Young. Read it. I want you up to speed by the time we hit Oldcastle.
Might as well. If playing along kept me out of prison for long enough to get my hands on Mrs Kerrigan
I opened the folder. Inside was a list of statements and some crime-scene photos. Wheres the post-mortem report? Identification Bureau stuff physical evidence, fingerprints, DNA, that kind of thing?
Ah. Thats a bit He made a little circling gesture with his hand. Complicated. For reasons of potential investigative bias, were not taking access to those.
I opened the folder. Inside was a list of statements and some crime-scene photos. Wheres the post-mortem report? Identification Bureau stuff physical evidence, fingerprints, DNA, that kind of thing?
Ah. Thats a bit He made a little circling gesture with his hand. Complicated. For reasons of potential investigative bias, were not taking access to those.
Were not? Why? Are we thick?
Just read the file. He faced forwards again, shoogled his shoulders from side to side against the seat, then reclined it a couple of notches. And do it quietly. Ive got a press conference when we get back: one of your idiot mates in Oldcastle blabbed to the Daily Record. I need my beauty sleep.
The A90 rumbled beneath the Range Rovers tyres, while Jacobson rumbled in the passenger seat, mouth hanging open, a little dribble of drool shining in the dashboard lights. PC Cooper kept his eyes front, hands at ten to two on the steering wheel. Mirror, signal, manoeuvre.
Behind us, the bright lights of Dundee faded away into the distance.
The crime-scene photos were all pin-sharp, caught in the flashlight glare: Claire Young lying on her back on a crumpled sheet, the sides folded in around her legs and chest. One arm was curled above her head as if she was just sleeping but her eyes were open, staring blankly into the camera. Some swelling around the left side of her mouth. A bruise the size of a saucer spread out across her right cheek.
The left side of the sheet was crumpled back, exposing the pale nightdress beneath. Two lines of stains marred the fabric, like a lowercase letter t. A crucifix without the Jesus. Black, fringed with scarlet and yellow. The nightdress bumped beneath the stain, swollen and distorted by what was stitched inside. A close-up of her palm had what looked like bite marks in the middle of it, an arc of dark purple that curved from the middle finger to the base of the thumb. No blood.
I went back to the statement again.
A woman parks her car at the edge of Hunters Thicket, lets her Labrador out of the boot, and goes for a walk. Shes an insomniac, so its not that unusual for her to be out walking Franklin at three in the morning. Thats why she got the dog. Didnt want some weirdo attacking her. Only Franklin runs off barking into the bushes and wont come back. She wades in after him and finds him tugging at Claire Youngs outstretched palm.
She panics for a bit, then calls 999.
Claire Youngs mother isnt much more help. Claire was a wonderful girl, everyone loved her, she was their world, lit up every room Pretty much the same thing every bereaved parent said when their child turned up dead. No one ever complained about what a pain in the arse they were, or how they never did a bloody thing they were told. How they were sleeping with some bastard called Noah even though they werent even thirteen yet. How you never really knew them at all
I blinked. Let out a long shuddering breath.
Put the statements down.
Then slid the whole lot back into the folder.
It looked like him. The cruciform scar, the doll stuffed inside, the body dump
Cooper, how come theres nothing in here about the abduction site?
In the rear-view mirror, the constables eyes widened. Shhhhh!
Oh, dont be such a big Jessie. Whys there nothing in here about where he grabbed her from?
Coopers voice hissed through, as if he was deflating. Im not waking the super up. Now sit still and shut up before you get us both into trouble.
Oh for Gods sake. Grow a pair.
You think I dont know who you are? Just because you chucked your career down the toilet, doesnt mean-
Fine. I picked up my walking stick, pressed the rubber tip against Jacobsons shoulder and jabbed it a couple of times. Wakey, wakey.
Gnnnfff?
Another poke or two. Whys there nothing about the abduction site?
Cooper found his voice again, only a whole octave higher than normal. I tried to stop him, sir, I did, I told him not to disturb you.
Nnngh Jacobson rubbed his face with his hands. Time is it?
I poked him with the rubber end again and repeated the question.
He peered back between the seats at me, face all puffy and pink. They havent found it yet, thats why, now can I-
One more question: whos following us?
His mouth hung open for a moment. Then he narrowed his bloodshot eyes and tilted his head to the side. Following us?
Three cars back. BMW black, four-by-four. Been with us since Perth.
He looked at Cooper. Really?
I Er
Take the next right. That one: Happas.
Mirror. Signal. Manoeuvre. Cooper pulled the Range Rover into the turning lane and we rolled to a halt. Waited for a gap in the Dundee-bound traffic. Then pulled smoothly across the dual carriageway and onto the country road. Trees hulked on either side of the potholed tarmac, jagged silhouettes in the darkness.
Jacobson peered back towards the rear windscreen. Then smiled. Thats prison for you. Paranoia is The smile faded. He faced front again. Keep going.
Through a patch of forest, the pines sharp and silent, then out into bare fields, cast grey and black in the light of a clouded moon. Stars twinkled in the gaps. Farm windows glowed like cats eyes off to either side.
Cooper cleared his throat. Theyre still there.
I passed the folder back to Jacobson. Of course theyre still there. Where else are they going to go? Weve not had a turn-off yet.
A thin band of trees loomed like a wall in front of the car, then past into more fields. We drove through farmland bordered by another line of pines, then Cooper took a left. The headlights behind us did the same. Then a hard right.
Through a tiny village, to the junction. Left at the primary school. And we were heading back towards the A90. Soon as we were through the limit end, Cooper put his foot down, the Range Rovers engine bellowed, smearing the fields past the windows.
The car behind us did the same. Keeping pace as the needle crept up to eighty.
I clipped in my seatbelt. No offence to Cooper, but he looked about twelve years old. Either whoevers tailing us is really crap at it, or they dont care if we see them or not.
Hmm Jacobson shoogled his shoulders in the seat again. Settling in. In that case, its either those dicks from the Specialist Crime Division, or your halfwit Oldcastle mates. Keeping an eye on the competition.
I checked back over my shoulder as we roared through the underpass, then left. The tyres screeched, the back end kicking out for a moment, then we surged up the slip road and onto the dual carriageway north again.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six
The other vehicles headlights appeared behind us again, falling into place three cars back.
Specialist Crime Whatsits, Oldcastle CID, or something much, much worse.
Cooper pulled the Range Rover up to the kerb, opposite a boarded-up pub on the eastern fringes of Cowskillin where it merged into Castle Hill.
No sign of the black BMW.
Right, Jacobson turned in his seat and pointed a hairy finger at me, you go in there and you wait till I get back from this sodding press briefing. Remember, youre on an investigative team now, not sharing a shower with some hairy-arsed rapist from Dunkeld. Try not to hit anyone.