Deano, get onto the Offender Management Unit. Find out whos meant to be monitoring Wood, and tell them to get their finger out. We do not want someone like that running around our patch with no idea where he is. Tell them to get a lookout request on the go.
Will do.
Right, now bugger off, weve got a druggie to spin.
A nod to Nicholson and they ditched the ice creams in a bin and marched down the road.
Anything? Logan shifted his grip on the skeletal arm as Nicholson rummaged her way through the leopard-skin-print handbag. Big enough to take a breezeblock or a small child.
A delivery van grumbled by, the Tesco Logo emblazoned down one side, trailing a cloud of dust behind it.
Warm golden light washed the gap between two buildings.
It was big enough to fit another house, but if there had been one on the site, it was long gone. Now it doubled as a dirt-floored car park and access through to the garages and lock-ups that ran along the rear of the gardens.
Weeds jungled at the base of the five-foot wall that formed either side of the gateless entry to the secret land beyond. Shutting the three of them off from the street.
Nicholson held up a golden pen thing in one blue-nitrile-gloved-hand. This is a bit fancy, isnt it, Kirstin? Touche Éclat? Ive seen it in Boots stuff costs a fortune.
Kirstin Rattray shrugged one bony shoulder. The motion caused the neck of her baggy T-shirt to slip far enough to expose a bright-green bra strap stretched taut over semi-skimmed skin. Found it, didnt I? A small flock of purple lovebites perched in the crook of her neck. Eighties hair and dark circles under her eyes. Cheekbones you could peel tatties with.
Right. Course you did. What about these? Nicholson pulled out two lots of Chanel No. 5, still in their boxes, then one of Paco Rabanne. You find them, too?
Kirstins bottom lip disappeared between her teeth. Eyes down to the left. You planted that. Never seen them before.
Dont be a spaz, Kirstin. Did you rob them yourself? Or did someone do it for you?
I should get a lawyer and that. Sue you for false thingummy.
Ooh and a brand new iPhone too. Nicholson wiggled it at Logan. When I was on the dole it was a red-letter day if I could afford to buy chips and pants the same week. Now its all smartphones and perfume. Back to their new friend. Let me guess: you found it?
Kirstins head fell back so she was staring up at the warm blue sky. A breath hissed out. Her knees sagged an inch or two. What do you want?
World peace for me. Sarge?
Logan frowned. Im partial to Maltesers, myself.
Look, Ive got a little girl. Amy. Shes three, I swear on her life I never nicked nothing.
Really? Then how come you match the description of the woman who pilfered a heap of perfume and makeup from Fishers the Chemists? And how come your handbags full of the stuff that got robbed?
Told you, I found it. She stuck her hand out. Now can I get me bag back?
Sarge?
Logan let go of the thin pale arm. Police Scotland thanks you for your cooperation, and for handing in the items you found. Very public spirited. Well try to return them to their rightful owners. He scribbled out another receipt. Now, weve got to make a quick stop at the station prior engagement but after that, why dont we all pop over to yours and see if we cant turn up anything else youve found recently? Voluntarily.
Kirstins head drooped back again. Sodding hell
6
Kirstin scowled up at him from the bench in Interview Room Two. Both hands in front of her, fingers knotting and twisting, while Nicholson leaned back against the wall behind her.
The vertical blinds were closed, but the light was still painfully bright in the small room. The panic strip all shiny and unused. A creased chunk of flip-chart paper was pinned to one wall. Far more chairs than would ever be needed in an interview cluttered the grey carpet.
Logan gave Kirstin a smile, then slipped out and closed the door behind him.
Into the front hall, with its elaborate beige, brown, blue, and white tiles. They didnt really go with the walls white to the waist-high rail, then pastel blue above. The Response Level sign was just visible through the open door to the stairwell. Apparently, todays terrorism threat level was FABULOUS! in big block capitals.
Bloody day shift
Logan replaced it with the official MODERATE then punched his access code into the keypad to get through to the main office.
It was all scuffed blue carpet tiles, magnolia walls, boxy plastic ducting, and slightly grubby ceiling tiles. Two desks, back-to-back, corralled in by blue fuzzy cubicle walls. Another barricade of the same blue fuzz separating the front desk little more than a wide shelf with a roller shutter above it from the reception area.
Maggie had one of the small square locker doors open, so she could fiddle an Airwave handset into its charger. A tall woman in black trousers, shiny shoes and a pink silk blouse. Grey hair pulled back in a ponytail. Sharp, bird-like features. She twitched her head towards the front desks barricade, with its covering of posters and notices. Where have you been?
Saving society from a one-woman shoplifting crime-spree. He clunked open the filing cabinet in the corner and rifled through it. Any messages?
That horrible Detective Chief Inspector Steel called. Then Nelson Street: they say you cant have the Big Car back till tomorrow-
Youre kidding. Sick of not having a car with a proper radio in it.
Well, youll have to sing along with yourself then, wont you. They need to put in a whole new CCTV system.
Again?
Take it up with Sergeant Muir. Im not the one who left Stinky Sammy Wilson unsupervised in the back. Oh, and Louise from Sunny Glen was on the phone an hour ago.
Logan froze, one hand on the thick manila folder marked B DIVISION ~ STAFF APPRAISALS. He cleared his throat. Something wrong?
Oh, no, nothing bad. She wants to talk to you about changing your girlfriends medication, thats all. Maggie picked a couple of yellow Post-its from her desk and held them out. Here you go.
So it wasnt an emergency. Nothing bad had happened. The breath huffed out of him, leaving a metallic taste behind. As if hed been sucking on copper wire. Thanks, Maggie. He took the proffered Post-its. Any chance you could order up some more Biros? Hectors nicked all mine again.
Hmmph. A small selection of todays papers were draped over the partition of her cubicle. The Press and Journal had STORMS BATTER NORTHEAST COAST in big letters across the front page and a photo of waves crashing over the harbour wall in Peterhead. Aberdeen Examiner WOODLAND RIPPER TRIAL OPENS stretched above a photo of Graham Stirling grinning away at a party somewhere. And the Daily Mail had gone for, DRIVE-BY SHOOTING KILLERS ON THE RUN with a picture of a bus stop and blurry figures sealed off behind a line of blue-and-white POLICE tape. LIVERPOOL POLICE LAUNCH NATIONWIDE MANHUNT FOR GANGLAND MURDERERS.
Maggie grabbed the Aberdeen Examiner and slipped it under her arm. Right. Id better get on. Bills stovies wont make themselves. She pulled on a multi-coloured hiking jacket and picked up her bag. Dont forget to put in a good word for my extra five percent. She disappeared out the door to the tradesmans entrance, humming what sounded like Onward, Christian Soldiers.
Took all sorts.
And five percent? What planet did she beam down from? Lucky if she got three quid and a box of staples.
He grabbed the appraisals folder, clanged the filing-cabinet drawer shut, then flicked through the Post-its. Groaned when he got to the one about Steel.
CALL DCI STEEL ABOUT GRAHAM STIRLING ~ URGENT.
Brilliant.
He pulled out his phone and selected her name from the contacts list. Listened to it ring.
Steels gravelly voice rasped in his ear. About time. You all prepped for your testimony tomorrow? Cause if youre no, Ill-
Yes, Im all prepped. Its fine. He settled his bum against the photocopier.
Better be. Last thing we need is Graham Stirling back on the streets. You see what the press are calling him now? The-
The Woodland Ripper. I know. Its fine. Open-and-shut case. Graham Stirling isnt going anywhere but jail for the next sixteen to life.
Good. There was a sooking noise, then she was back. Susan says are you remembering Jasmine has a dance competition Saturday? Cos youre going whether you like it or not.
Saturday?
There an echo in here? Aye, Saturday. Shes been lolloping about the house for weeks, driving me and her mum mad. Dont see why we should be the only ones to suffer.
What time?
Half twelve. Ive got you down for a pair of tickets. Thats twelve quid you owe me. And before you ask: youre no taking your mother.
As if.
Logans shoulders dipped. I cant make half twelve. Saturdays dayshift wont get off till three. He pushed through the door and into the stairwell, his footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. Tell Jasmine Im sorry.
Oh no you dont. Im no doing your dirty work for you. You can call your daughter and tell her why Daddy cant be arsed turning up for anything any more.
He closed his eyes and thunked the side of his head against the wall. Weve been over this.
Far be it from me to-
You got me transferred up here! This is your fault. He scuffed his way up to the first floor. What am I supposed to do, go AWOL in the middle of a shift? This isnt CID, OK? Divisional policing doesnt work like that. Took a left at the top of the stairs and stopped outside the blue door: BANFF amp; BUCHAN ~ INSPECTOR. A brass nameplate had been slid into the holder above the notice: WENDY McGREGOR.
Wah, wah, wah. Pity poor Logan. Steel had another sook. Youre lucky Im no-
He hung up on her. Switched his phone off. Rammed it into his pocket. Stood there, grinding his teeth for a bit.
As if he didnt have enough to worry about.
Deep breath.
Count to ten.
Shoulders back.
Then Logan reached out and knocked on the Duty Inspectors door.
Come.
He hung up on her. Switched his phone off. Rammed it into his pocket. Stood there, grinding his teeth for a bit.
As if he didnt have enough to worry about.
Deep breath.
Count to ten.
Shoulders back.
Then Logan reached out and knocked on the Duty Inspectors door.
Come.
He stepped into the room. About the same size as the one he had to share downstairs, only with a new blue carpet and chairs that didnt look as if they would self-destruct if you even thought about sitting on them. A round coffee table and a shiny desk. Two pinboards on opposite walls almost completely covered in maps. And a stunning view from the corner windows, out over Banff harbour and the bay.