either side of the U-bend.
The flushing stopped, and she dragged his head back up.
'I'm not going to ask you again.'
'Aaaagh, Jesus!' Then a bout of coughing.
'Who were they?'
'You can't-'
She shoved his head back into the bowl again, and there was a clunk as Gary's face bounced off the porcelain. 'Aaagh! Stop it!'
Steel cranked the flush again, but it just made gurgling noises; the cistern wasn't full enough yet. 'Who were they?'
'I don't know!' His voice was distorted and echoey inside the bog. 'I don't!'
Logan froze. 'What are you doing?'
She looked up. 'How's the balls?'
'Sore. You can't-'
She slapped Gary on the back of his wet head. 'You better pray they're no' broken! If he can't get my wife pregnant…' The cistern was full again.
Flush.
'Aaaaagh!' And then gurgling.
'Stop it!' Logan limped into the small room. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?'
'This is what you do with shite, you flush it down the bog.' She dragged Gary's head back above the rim. 'I said: who — were — they?'
'I can't, they'll kill-' Gurgle, thrash, gurgle.
Logan lurched forwards and grabbed her arm, pulling her off. Gary surfaced again, retching up toilet water.
'Please…'
'Let go of me you daft-'
Logan hauled her to her feet. 'That's enough.'
Gary was crying now, tears and snot running down his wet face. 'Make her stop. Please… make her stop…'
Steel shook herself free and kicked him in the backside. 'Who were they?'
'Allan Rait and Duane Cowie. OK? Allan and Duane…' More coughing.
Another kick. 'Who sold you the girl?'
'Aaaaaagh, we didn't buy her! We just… rented…'
And this time there was no stopping the inspector. She leapt forwards, and plunged Gary's head into the bowl again, flushing, holding on for grim death while Logan tried to drag her off.
'She's a HUMAN BEING!'
Splutter, gurgle.
'Stop it!' And then Logan did something really stupid — he slapped her. Just like they did in the movies. Only instead of shaking her head and saying, 'Thanks, I needed that.' DI Steel slapped him back. Hard enough to split his lip.
'The fuck you think you're doing?'
But at least she'd let Gary go. He surfaced like a dolphin, only not so attractive, and with a distinct smell of mouldy dog food.
This time the retching brought up a couple of pints of water, and then what looked like a not-so-happy meal. Gary laid his head on the toilet rim and sobbed like a child.
Steel's face was clenched, Logan's handprint beginning to show pink across her left cheek. 'If you ever hit me again-'
'You can't do this, OK? You can't!'
'They raped that girl-'
'This isn't the way we do things!'
'Well maybe it should be.' She rubbed a hand across her cheek, then kicked Gary again.
Gary dragged in a shuddering breath, tears and toilet water dripping from his face. 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…'
Logan pushed past Steel, getting between her and Gary before she did him some permanent damage. 'Who was it? Who rented Krystka Gorzalkowska out like she was a bloody Transit Van?'
'We got… we got her from this guy Allan knows. Some Polish bloke…'
'Name.'
'I don't know…'
'Name, Gary. I want a name and address, or I'm out of here; you can go back to your swimming lesson.'
'I don't know! I swear, on my mother's grave! I never met him, Allan did all that stuff.' Gary howched up a mouthful of something foul and spat it into the bowl. 'He said they were like a company that did porn actresses and stuff.'
'What company?' Logan got the sinking feeling he knew where this was going.
'Cost Key Internal somethings… She was two hundred pounds for the day…'
'Kostchey International Holdings Limited.' Steel was in the back garden, sitting on an upturned wheelbarrow in the long grass, smoking a sulky cigarette. The sound of Radio One wafted over from three houses down — some TV talent show wannabe murdering an Elvis song.
Logan settled back against the wall. 'That was out of order.'
'Rape's a nasty thing, Sergeant. You should try it some time, see how tolerant you are then.' She flicked a little swirl of ash into the still morning air.
'You can't assault a prisoner in custody. Look what happened to DI Insch.'
'Aye, well, technically he's no' in custody yet. He's just had an unfortunate toilet-related mishap.' She took a deep drag on her fag. 'He going to press charges?'
Logan looked away. 'I had a word with him.'
'Oh aye?'
'Still got a pile of those Polaroids from Rory Simpson's flat: little girls running about with their panties on show. Told Gary it would be a shame if we find some of them when we search his house. Might not go down too well when he gets to prison.'
'Ta.'
'You owe me.'
'Aye…' The grey cat was back, picking its way along the fence at the bottom of the garden. Steel dug in her trouser pocket and came out with a five pound note. 'Here.' She handed it over. 'For the swear box. Should only be three fifty, but I'm planning on calling Gary a worthless sack of shite a couple of times.'
Logan watched the cat jump down and disappear into the long grass. 'You can't ever do that again, you know that, don't you?'
'Like you said, I owe you one.' Steel ground her cigarette out on the wheelbarrow, then flicked the remains away into the jungle. 'How's Rennie?'
'Got bashed on the head with an iron. Might be brain damaged, but who'd know the difference?'
She hauled herself to her feet, brushing dust and cobwebs from the seat of her trousers. 'Better get on the blower to your mate the fat pornographer. I want to know who these Kostchey International Dickheads are and where I can find them.'
'Already did it. No answer, so I left a message.'
She nodded. 'Right, let's go see what the Little Mermaid has to say for himself.'
Gary was sitting on a ratty brown armchair in the lounge, staring off into the middle distance, hair plastered to his head, T-shirt soaked through all the way down to his waist.
Rennie was perched on the sofa, a bag of frozen sweet-corn clutched to the side of his head. He looked up as Steel creaked down beside him, then handed over his notebook. 'Mobile number.'
Gary sniffed. 'We had to call it when we was finished with the girl.' He raised his cuffed hands and rubbed at his pink eyes. 'They'll kill me if they find out.'
