Dark Blood

‘Can I not even get…Oh, it’s you.’ She pointed at the passenger seat, where Wardrobe was sitting, tail thumping against the dashboard. ‘I’d invite you in, but…’ Shrug.

‘Should he not be wearing a seatbelt?’

‘You’re letting all the heat out.’

‘Did you get anything else from the other houses?’

The constable raised an eyebrow, then turned to her dog. ‘Hear that, Wardrobe? Local plod think we’re holding out on them. Did you find another deid body and not tell anyone about it?’

Wardrobe’s mouth fell open in a huge grin, tongue hanging out the side like a soggy pink bathmat.

PC Martin looked back at Logan. ‘Nope, looks like one corpsicle is all you get.’ She pulled a handful of prawn cocktail crisps from the packet in her lap, feeding them one at a time to the big yellow Labrador. ‘He likes cheese and onion, but it makes his breath stink. Doesn’t it, Mr Stinky?’

Bark.

She gave him another one. ‘Sniffed out every plot in the place and as much of the site as we could. Could be more remains out there, but with the weather that cold, frozen earth…’ She dug out more crisps. ‘Give it three weeks and you might get more seepage — aye, if there are any more out there.’

‘What about blood? Would he pick up blood?’

‘Not unless it was in a big bucket going fusty. Wardrobe’s a cadaver dog, he only does dead bodies. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s sodding freezing and we’d like to finish our crisps in peace before hitting the road. Long way from the Land Of The Sheepshaggers to God’s own Clydeside.’

‘I really don’t see how I can possibly help.’ The project manager ran a hand across his comb-over, straightening up the trailing strands as Logan eased the interview room door shut.

A gust of rain hammered the window, making the vertical blinds rattle. The misty drizzle had given up on the way back into town, replaced by driving needles of icy water. Making the streetlights bob and sway.

DI Steel looked up as Logan dumped the manila folder on the scarred Formica table and settled into the seat next to her. ‘Detective Sergeant McRae enters the room.’ She sniffed. ‘This it?’

Logan nodded.

Silence.

‘Are we nearly finished here? Because I have a development to run.’

Logan opened the folder and pulled out a handful of printouts. ‘We found a body buried under the foundations of one of your houses, Mr Brett. How many more are there out there?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘How many more bodies? You’ve got planning permission for four hundred houses, that’s a lot of concrete. The whole place could be a graveyard for all we know.’

The project manager took off his glasses and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We’ve been over this. McLennan Homes had nothing to do with-’

Steel banged the table. ‘Then how come there’s a dead body-’

‘-actions of a disturbed individual, who-’

‘-no’ supposed to believe you don’t know-’

‘-had access to the site. It’s not-’

This was all they’d done for the last hour and a bit, go round and round with Brett denying any knowledge or responsibility, and Steel trying to wind him up. It didn’t seem to be working.

The latest bout over, the project manager smoothed the hair over his bald patch again. ‘Now, I think I have been extremely patient with your questions, but I’m going to have to draw this conversation to a close.’ He stood. ‘If you wish any further statements you can contact our legal team.’

Steel glowered at him. ‘Sit your arse down.’

Another sigh. ‘Inspector, I came here voluntarily to assist with your enquiries. And now I’m going back to work. Good day.’

Logan tapped the sheet of paper. ‘Tell me about your site security, Mr Brett. The large, bald man with the big dog.’

Brett raised an eye brow. ‘What about him?’

‘How about we start with his name?’

Pause. ‘Andy. Andy Stephenson. It says that on the-’

‘The list of employees you gave us?’ Logan made a show of scratching his forehead. ‘That’s odd, because the DNA sample I took came back belonging to a Mr Andrew Connelly.’ He held up the paperwork he’d just printed out. ‘According to the police national computer, Andrew Connelly served three years for aggravated assault. Two years for demanding money with menaces. Got a suspended sentence for his part in a security car heist…There’s more if you want to hear it?’

The project manager sniffed. ‘At McLennan Homes we believe every large organization has a responsibility to help integrate people from troubled backgrounds into society. It’s part of our Community Commitment Programme to-’

‘Blah, blah, blah.’ Steel hauled at herself under the table. ‘He’s a bloody enforcer for Malk the Knife and we all know it.’

‘That’s slander, Inspector.’

‘And my arse is-’

‘Where is he?’ Logan ignored Steel’s glare. ‘Andrew Connelly wasn’t at the site when we recovered the body. Our teams have spoken to everyone else.’

Brett’s eyes narrowed. ‘Andrew is on compassionate leave, Sergeant. His mother had a stroke yesterday.’

‘Well, that’s sodding convenient.’ Steel actually stopped rummaging for a moment. ‘You expect us to believe his dear old mum’s no’ well at exactly the same time we dig Steve Polmont’s body out from under one of your bloody houses? Four days after you catch the silly sod nicking electrical supplies? No way Malk the Knife-’

‘I repeat, Inspector, McLennan Homes had nothing to do with-’

‘Someone had to operate the bloody cement mixer-’

And they were off again.

Logan slouched his way downstairs, with yet another report wedged under his arm so he could burn his fingers carrying the two coffees from the canteen back to Steel’s office. He tried using his elbow to work the door handle and instantly regretted it as the metal dug into the bruised joint, making it ache again. He used his other arm, and froze as the door swung open.

Buggering hell…

That big git Danby was sitting in one of the visitor’s chairs, craning his thick neck around to see who was coming into the room. Steel sat behind her desk, which was actually tidy for once. Something had to be up. And then Logan saw the battered journals they’d taken from Polmont’s flat — the ones full of barely legible, drunken scribbles.

Logan stopped and nodded at the pair of them. ‘Ma’am, sir. You want me to come back later?’

One of Danby’s eyebrows climbed up that huge pink forehead. ‘So it’s “sir” now, is it?’

Might as well get it over with. ‘I’d like to apologize for my earlier comments, sir. It was unprofessional of me to let my personal feelings interfere with the meeting.’

Danby actually smiled. ‘Dear God, that was stilted. You been practising that?’

‘Erm, not really.’

‘Trust me, it shows, know what I’m saying?’

‘Yes, well…’ Shrug. ‘Sorry.’

‘So you should be.’ The man waved a huge hand at the other visitor’s chair. ‘Sit.’

Logan looked at Steel. ‘Ma’am?’

‘Park your arse.’ She stuck out a hand. ‘What did Fingerprints say?’

‘It’s Polmont.’ He held out the report and she snatched it from him, eyes flicking across the page. He pointed at the diagram. ‘They got a sixteen point match off the prints we lifted from the hand.’