She nodded. ‘Post mortem?’
‘Isobel…Dr McAllister’s got it scheduled for half nine tomorrow morning. They’re getting an archaeologist in to help dig the remains out of the concrete.’
Danby shifted in his seat, then reached out to take one of the coffees. Thieving bastard. ‘What did your project manager friend say?’
Logan looked at Steel. ‘Guv?’
‘Tell him.’ She took a sip of her cappuccino. ‘This got cinnamon on it? I don’t like cinnamon-’
‘It’s chocolate. According to Mr Brett, they poured half the new foundations on Monday night and the rest on Tuesday morning, due to some sort of equipment failure. Claims anyone could’ve sneaked onto the site after they shut up for the night, and buried the body in the damp cement.’
Danby frowned. ‘I see…’
‘All bollocks, of course.’ Steel wiped away a foam moustache. ‘If Polmont was dumped in wet cement it’d be all over him, ‘stead of down one side. It was poured in on top.’
The huge DSI drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. Then stood. ‘Better be getting on, got the Sacro report on Knox to wade through.’ He picked up one of the journals on Steel’s desk and tucked it under his arm. ‘Don’t forget to keep me up to date.’
Logan waited until the door clunked shut. ‘Why’s he sticking his nose in?’
‘Never you bloody mind.’ She dug something out of her in-tray and threw it to him. ‘You’ll be happy to know, you’ve had papers served on you
Logan scanned the official complaint. ‘Stopped counting when we got into double figures.’
‘Funny. It’ll be even funnier when you’re up in front of the rubber-heelers in half an hour, won’t it? You silly bastard.’
‘He was an idiot.’
‘I don’t care. As of tomorrow you’re someone else’s problem. I’m off on holiday and you can try your luck with whatever banjo-playing inbred loony they send down from Fraserburgh. Meant to be here today, but they’ve got some sort of big drug-raid-stakeout-thing tonight, so you’ll have to give him the handover tomorrow. I want you in the office seven sharp:
Logan dumped the complaint on the desk. ‘Yeah, so I can hold his bloody hand when we both know-’
‘Do you still want to be a police officer? I mean really? Or are you behaving like a tosser because getting fired is easier than quitting?’
Logan stared at the carpet.
‘I’m getting tired of going through the same bastarding crap every time you have a bad week!’
He cleared his throat. ‘Dr Goulding wants access to Knox.’
‘I’m being serious, Laz.’
‘I…You haven’t called me “Laz” for months.’
Steel sighed. ‘Fuck’s sake, you’re hard work. You know that, don’t you?’
For a minute the only noise in the little office was the gurgling rattle of the radiator. Logan shifted in his seat. ‘I’m sorry.’
Another awkward pause.
Another sigh. ‘Thought you were supposed to be getting yourself sorted out.’
‘Yeah, well…Not going quite so well at the moment.’ Fidget. ‘What do you want to do about Polmont’s post mortem?’
‘Don’t look at me — got a flight to sunny Puerto de la Aldea at eleven, need to pack my bikini.’
Now there was an image worth a thousand condoms.
‘Can’t believe you’re still going, when-’
‘Course I’m still bloody going. I’m no’ giving up my last holiday of freedom just cos there’s a murder on the go. Susan would sodding kill me.’ She sniffed. ‘Get DI Whatshisface from Fraserburgh to attend. Be a nice welcome to Aberdeen: seeing an alcoholic sparky getting hacked out of a concrete block. Meantime,’ she thumped a hand down on Polmont’s journals, ‘take a squint through these, see if there’s anything worth taking a punt on. And get someone to process all that stuff he nicked.’
‘What about the book Danby took?’
She pursed her lips. ‘You let me worry about that.’
Logan hauled himself out of the chair. ‘Anything else?’
‘Aye, try no’ to fuck anything up, or anyone off, while I’m away. I can’t be arsed breaking in a new DS.’
Logan deleted the last sentence and rewrote it again, before firing the whole thing off to the printer in the corner of the sergeants’ cubbyhole. One formal letter of apology.
Someone said, ‘Knock, knock?’ and he looked up to see PC Butler standing in the doorway, holding a sheet of paper. ‘Thought you’d be gone by now.’
Logan groaned. ‘Not another bloody armed robbery…’
Biohazard Bob grinned. ‘Sergeant McRae’s feeling a bit down this evening, Vicki. Professional Standards gave him a rough seeing to. Without the benefit of foreplay or lubricant.’
‘Up yours Bob.’
‘No, up
Butler held up the sheet. ‘It’s that e-fit you asked for.’
Logan took a look. Then groaned again. ‘This is crap.’
‘Yup.’
The computer identikit face was dominated by a big comedy beard and a pair of dark glasses. ‘So all we need to do is arrest every member of ZZ Top and we’ll be laughing.’ He stuffed the e-fit in his in-tray and slumped back in his seat. ‘Brilliant.’
‘He wore gloves, a disguise, kept the door from locking when they tripped the silent alarm, and never even glanced at the CCTV camera once.’
Logan covered his face with his hands, mumbling through the fingers, ‘But he grabs the crappest, shiniest baubles and doesn’t even think to go for the cash register.’
Bob performed a little drum roll on his desk. ‘You want to know what
‘Not really.’
‘Suit yourself.’
Logan let his hands drop and watched Bob gather up a handful of Unlawful Removal forms, stand, and make for the door. He stopped right on the threshold, turned back, scrunched up his eyes, raised a finger and said, ‘Just one more thing…’ in his best Columbo voice.
‘What?’
But Bob just grinned, stepped outside and closed the door.
PC Butler turned back to Logan. ‘So what do you want me to do about our armed robber?’
‘Go round anyone we’ve done for resetting in the last five years, better do the pawn shops too. Whoever he is, he’ll be trying to flog his takings…’ Logan drifted to a halt as he saw the expression on Butler’s face sour. ‘Are you-Oh
‘What’s that, Sweetheart? No, you’ll have to speak up.’ Julie sticks a finger in her ear, face turned away from the steering wheel. ‘Yeah, that’s better…How’s Tiggy and Milly?’ She laughs. ‘Did she?’
Tony sits in the passenger seat, trying not to eavesdrop as she asks after her tabby cat and Tibetan terrier. The Range Rover’s illegally parked on a double yellow, but when Julie’s driving stuff like that kinda gets forgotten about. Along with the speed limit and the number of obscene gestures you should make at other motorists.
He stares out of the window, watching the main entrance to the hotel. It’s a fancy looking place, all carved granite and sticky-out bits.
Still no sign of Neil.
Tony searches through his pockets for a packet of chewy antacids, pops one in and grimaces his way through it. Bloody balti lamb.
Finally…
