pieces clattering against one another like ceramic tiles. 'Is ... is that all...?' 'We won't know till we test it.' Logan held out his hand, and the rumpled man looked puzzled for a moment, then tried to shake it. 'No,' Logan took a step back, leaving him hanging,'the dockets?' 'Oh, right. Right. Of course.' He handed over a crumpled sheet of yellow A4, covered with biro scribbles. 'Sorry.' Thompson fidgeted nervously as Logan read. 'What's going to happen? I mean if that ...' He swallowed. 'What am I going to tell my customers?' Logan pulled out his mobile phone and scrolled through the contacts list. 'We're going to need names and addresses for everyone who has access to this freezer. I want staff records, customers, suppliers, the lot.' An electronic voice on the other end of the line told him the number he was dialling was busy, please try again later. The man in the crumpled suit shivered, wrapped his arms around himself and looked as if he was about to cry. 'We're a family firm, been here thirty years ...' 'Yes, well,' Logan tried for a reassuring smile,'you never know: the tests might come up negative.' 'I wouldn't go getting Mr Thompson's hopes up,' said Isobel. She sat back on her haunches, breath a cloud of white around her head as she lifted something out of the box at her feet. From where Logan was standing it looked just like another chunk of pork, and he said so. 'That's true ...' she turned the joint of meat over,'but pigs don't usually have tattoos of unicorns on their backsides.'
2
Insch was in the sweetie section, surrounded by catering-sized packs of Crunchies, Rolos, Sports Mixture, and fizzy flying saucers - eyeing them up as he spoke on the phone,'Yeah, I'm sure.' The inspector listened for a moment, chewing on the side of his thumb,'No ... no ... if the bastard sets foot outside his house I want him picked up. ... What? ... I don't care what you arrest him for, just bloody arrest him! ... No, I don't have a warrant ...' Insch's face was starting its all too familiar slide from florid pink to angry scarlet. 'Because I bloody well told you to, that's why!' He snapped his phone shut and glowered at it. Logan cleared his throat, and the glower turned his way. 'Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Iso ... Dr McAllister's found at least one piece of human remains in the freezer. And about another forty possibles.' The inspector's face lit up. 'About time.' 'Only trouble is, some of those are catering packs of diced meat. She says they'll have to defrost and DNA-test every chunk, otherwise there's no way of telling if a pack's got bits of one, two or a dozen people in it.' Deep breath. 'It's going to take at least a fortnight.' And Insch went straight from angry scarlet to furious purple. 'WHAT?' 'She ... it's what she said, OK?' Logan backed off, hands up. Insch gritted his teeth and seethed for a moment. Then,'You tell her I want those remains analysed and I want them analysed now. I don't care how many favours she has to call in, this takes top priority.' 'Ah ... maybe that'd sound better coming from you, sir? I--' The look on Insch's face was enough to stop Logan right there. 'Fine, I'll tell her.' Isobel was going to kill him. If the inspector didn't do it first. The big man looked like an unexploded bomb. Logan had a bash at defusing him. 'According to the cash and carry's records the meat in the container came from a butcher's shop in Holburn Street: McFarlane's.' 'McFarlane's?' A nasty smile twisted Insch's face. Logan pulled out the docket. 'Two sirloins, half a dozen sides of bacon, a pack of veal ...'
