Dark Blood

‘You raped him, and he blew his head off with a shotgun.’

‘You said if I shared the cash with you, you’d help us escape. ‘Stead of which you set us up!’

Danby laughs, but it turns into another coughing fit. Big man like that, you’d think he’d have more insulation against the cold, wouldn’t you? And he’s got a dressing gown on, all Richard’s got is a tatty old quilt.

‘You…’ Wheeze, shiver. ‘You did the same to me, know what I’m saying?’

Got to admit he had a point there.

‘Don’t suppose it helps, but I’m sorry.’ Richard lies down again, wrapping himself around the superintendent, holding him tight. ‘They’re gonna kill us, aren’t they?’

The big man’s head sinks back against the plastic boot liner. ‘If we’re lucky…’

Logan slammed the front door shut and hurried over to the police Land Rover. He clambered into the passenger seat. Where the hell was Butler?

She appeared from behind the Mercedes and hunched through the blizzard to the Renault Clio. There was something red in her hand. And as Logan watched, the Mercedes seemed to sink a couple of inches. A minute later the Clio joined it, then the people carrier.

Butler climbed up into the Land Rover, a grin stretching her rosy cheeks as she folded a long blade back into a huge Swiss Army Knife. ‘Just in case anyone’s got a spare set of keys they’re not telling us about.’

Logan pulled out his mobile phone while the constable cranked over the huge diesel engine.

‘Yes, I want you to get a patrol car out to…’ He frowned, turned to Butler. ‘Where the hell are we?’ Then repeated the address to Control as she drove them out into the blizzard. ‘Three IC-One males, one female, I want them picked up and charged with perverting the course of justice.’

There was a pause. ‘Are you are aware it’s blawin’ a hoolie oot there?’

The headlights turned the world into a snow globe, with the Land Rover at the centre, shaken by the howling winds.

‘Yeah, I kinda noticed.’

‘Can you no’ bring them in yoursel?’

‘Don’t have time. Tell Finnie I know where Richard Knox and DSI Danby are. I need an armed response unit to the McLennan Homes development south of Balmedie.’

‘Jesus, yer no shy the day, are you? Hang on…’

Logan stuck the phone against his chest. ‘Does this thing not go any faster?’

Butler didn’t even look round, kept her face straight ahead, eyes narrowed, staring out into the driving snow. ‘It’s Scott of the Antarctic out there.’

The little country road twisted and turned, drystane dykes on either side disappearing under drifts of white.

‘Do your best, OK?’ Back to the phone. ‘So am I getting my ARU or not?’

But the voice on the other end wasn’t the wee Teuchter from Control any more, it was the head of CID. ‘Sergeant McRae, tell me, was it my imagination, or did I instruct you to be in my office at five? Yet here we are at half four and you’re asking for a firearms team?’

Logan filled him in on his visit to Bruce Lowe’s steading.

‘Hmm…Where are you?’

Logan peered through the windscreen. A signpost flared in the gloom, reflecting back the Land Rover’s headlights. ‘Just coming into Newburgh now. So: firearms team?’

‘I’ll get an ARU out to Camberwick Green as soon as I can. In the meantime, you are not authorized to take any action until they get there. If you get yourself killed just to avoid our meeting I will be highly pissed off, is that clear?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Newburgh wasn’t a big place. The A90 — the main road north to Ellon and Peterhead — ran through the middle of the little town, and as soon as they turned onto it Butler put her foot down.

Normally, at this time on a Wednesday, there would be a steady stream of traffic coming the other way, trying to beat the rush-hour out of Aberdeen, but today it was quiet. Just the occasional eighteen-wheeler crawling its way north.

Butler’s Airwave handset bleeped into life as they reached the outkirts of Balmedie — Control calling to say that the firearms team had just left FHQ.

Then it was Logan’s phone’s turn. He checked the display: DI Steel.

‘How is she?’

‘They’ll no’ tell me what’s going on…’ A sniff. Silence. ‘Should arrest the whole bloody lot of them.’

He tried to force a smile into his voice. ‘I’m sure it’ll be-’

‘So, have you sodded up all my cases yet?’

‘Of course not. It’s fine.’

The Land Rover slowed, bouncing to a halt at a break in the central divide, opposite a sign saying ‘MCLENNAN HOMES — SITE TRAFFIC ONLY’. Then they rumbled across the other carriageway and up to the site gate.

‘Anything else going on?’

Logan looked out at the high chainlink fence and the signs caught in the Land Rover’s headlights: ‘SITE PATROLLED BY GUARD DOGS’, ‘NO ENTRY TO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL’, ‘WARNING: RAZOR WIRE’, ‘DANGER OF DEATH’.

He swallowed. ‘Yeah, no, everything’s fine. Tell Susan we’re all asking for her, OK?’

They said an awkward goodbye, then Logan slid the phone back in his pocket.

The gate was open, not all the way, just wide enough for a large car to squeeze through. Butler drove the Land Rover in. On the other side, the road was virtually invisible, a set of rutted tyre tracks disappearing into the gloom.

Logan turned and peered into the back of the vehicle. ‘We got any weapons?’

‘Sarge? I thought we were meant to wait for the cavalry?’

If this was America they’d have shotguns and tear gas and riot gear and ammo. Instead of which they had a big first aid kit, some road flares, and enough rope to build a bouncy bridge over the River Dee. Fat lot of good that was going to do.

The car lurched to a halt, throwing him backwards against his seatbelt. ‘Hoy! Careful.’

Butler tapped him on the shoulder. ‘We’ve got company.’

She was right. A set of headlights glowed in the darkness, getting closer.

‘Sod…’ Logan glanced left, then right. ‘Block the road.’

The constable wrestled with the steering wheel, three-point-turning the Land Rover until it was parked side- on, then Logan reached into the back, grabbed a couple of the road flares, and clambered out into the snow.

It was like being punched with a fistful of ice. He staggered, letting the car door slam shut in the wind.

Fuck it was cold…

He lurched over the rutted surface, about six feet from the Land Rover’s bonnet, pulled the plastic cap off of the first flare and struck the igniter across the end. It sputtered, then sent out a gout of lurid scarlet flame. Logan jammed the other end into the snow, then hurried around to the other side and stuck the second one behind the car.

With the blue-and-white lights flashing in the middle, there was no way you could miss the police Land Rover.

He hobbled back to the driver’s side. Butler wound down the window and said something Logan couldn’t hear over the howling wind.

‘What?’

‘I said, we’re supposed to wait!’

Logan pointed through the whipping snow to the approaching headlights. ‘You want to let them just drive right past you?’

Butler thumped back against the headrest, sighed, then undid her seatbelt and climbed out into the snow.