Flesh House

'I told you, I want it done now. Not in an hour: now.' 'But it's going to take that long to get a search warrant. Surely we should be concentrating on doing a thorough job here--' The inspector loomed over him: six foot three of angry fat. 'Don't make me tell you twice, Sergeant.' Logan tried to sound reasonable. 'Even if we pull every uniform off the boat and the docks, they're going to have to sit twiddling their thumbs till the search warrant comes through.' Insch got as far as 'We don't have time to bugger about with--' before he was tapped on the shoulder by someone dressed in a white SOC oversuit. Someone who didn't look particularly happy. 'I've been waiting for you for fifteen minutes!' Dr Isobel McAllister, Aberdeen's chief pathologist, wearing an expression that would freeze the balls off a brass gorilla at twenty paces. 'You might not have anything better to do, but I can assure you that I have. Now are you going to listen to my preliminary findings, or shall I just go home and leave you to whatever it is you feel is more important?' Logan groaned. That was all they needed, Isobel winding Insch up even further. As if the grumpy fat sod wasn't bad enough already. The inspector turned on her, his face flushing angry-scarlet in the IB spotlights. 'Thank you so much for waiting for me, Doctor, I'm sorry if my organizing a murder inquiry has inconvenienced you. I'll try not to let something as trivial get in the way again.' They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Then Isobel pulled on a cold, unfriendly smile. 'Remains are human: male. Dismemberment looks as if it occurred some time after death with a long, sharp blade and a hacksaw, but I won't be able to confirm that until I've performed the post mortem.' She checked her watch. 'Which will take place at eleven am precisely.' Insch bristled. 'Oh no it won't! I need those remains analysed now--' 'They're frozen, Inspector. They - need - to - defrost.' Emphasizing each word as if she were talking to a naughty child, rather than a huge, bad-tempered Detective Inspector. 'If you want, I suppose I could stick them in the canteen microwave for half an hour. But that might not be very professional. What do you think?' Insch just ground his teeth at her. Face rapidly shifting from angry-red to furious-purple. 'Fine,' he said at last,'then you can help by accompanying DS McRae to a cash and carry in Altens.' 'And what makes you think I--' 'Of course, if you're too busy, I can always ask one of the other pathologists to take over this case.' It was Insch's turn with the nasty smile. 'I understand the pressure you must be under: working mother, small child, can't really expect the same level of commitment to the job as--' Isobel looked as if she was about to slap him. 'Don't you dare finish that sentence!' She flung an imperious gesture in Logan's direction. 'Get the car, Sergeant, we've got work to do.' Insch nodded, pulled out his mobile and started dialling. 'Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a call to make ... Hello? ... That West Midlands Police? ... Yes, DI Insch: Grampian CID, I need to speak to Chief Constable Mark Faulds. ... Yes, of course I know what time it is!' He turned his back on them and wandered away out of the spotlights. Isobel scowled after him, then turned and snapped at Logan,'Well? We haven't got all night.' They were halfway to the car when a loud,'WILL YOU FUCK OFF WITH THAT BLOODY CAMERA!' exploded behind them. Logan looked over his shoulder to see Alec scurrying in their direction while the inspector went back to his telephone call. 'Er ...' said the cameraman, catching up to them by Logan's grubby, unmarked CID pool car,'I wondered if I could tag along with you for a while. Insch is a bit ...' He shrugged. 'You know.' Logan did. 'Get in. I'll be back in a minute.' It didn't take long to pass the word along: he just grabbed the