reputation for some pretty extreme publicity stunts, but DI…’ Mark checked the sheet again, ‘DI Broddur thinks they’d draw the line at kidnapping their own artistes. And they certainly wouldn’t kill a wee-’
‘OK.’ Green nodded. ‘Good work.’
Finnie cleared his throat. ‘So, if there’s nothing else-’
‘Apart from the obvious? Don’t just profile the offender, we need to profile the victim too.’ Green turned, sweeping his arms out, indicating the scribbled whiteboards, scrawled flip-charts, and crowded corkboards that lined the incident room. ‘We need to go back to the start, sift through everything we’ve got. There’s a connection here — something that links Jenny and Alison McGregor to the bastards who kidnapped them. We just have to find it.’
Acting DI Mark MacDonald got as far as the window of DI Steel’s office, turned round and paced back towards the door, about-faced and did it all over again. ‘“There’s a connection here, we just have to find it.”’ Round again. ‘Could that bastard be any more of a cliche if he tried?’
‘Oh, park your arse and stop whining.’ Steel pulled the e-cigarette from her gob, tilted her head back, opened her mouth in a wide ‘O’ and puffed. But instead of a perfectly-formed smoke ring, a mangled amoeba tumbled its way towards the ceiling. ‘You’re just jealous, because he’s sex and chips.’
‘He’s a cock.’ Mark slumped into the visitor chair next to Logan’s and glowered. ‘Coming up here, telling us how to-’
‘Least
‘Can’t.’ Logan stuck his mug on Steel’s desk and stood. Groaned. Stretched. Slumped. ‘Was supposed to be out of here at twelve, remember? I’ve got-’
‘“A thing”, aye, you’ve been banging on about your mysterious “thing” for weeks. It really more important than finding out who killed a wee girl and hacked off her toe?’
‘Oh no you don’t — I’ve been on duty for…’ He checked his watch. ‘Christ, thirty hours straight.’ Well, with one hour off to clamber into his empty bed, but that hardly counted. He threw in a yawn for good measure. ‘Shattered…’
She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. ‘
‘I’ve got to go.’
Steel pointed a finger at him, the skin stained yellow, the cherry-red nail varnish chipped. ‘Tomorrow morning, seven o’clock, on the sodding dot. And bring-’
The phone on her desk rang. ‘Sod…’ She peered at the display, then snatched up the receiver. ‘Susan? What’s… No… Susan, calm down, it’s…’ Steel crumpled forward, until her head was resting on the desktop. ‘No. No I’m not saying that, Susan, it’s… Yes…’
Logan slipped out through the door.
Chapter 10
‘You sure you want to go through with this?’ Samantha squeezed his hand.
Logan swallowed, blinked, cranked his smile up a notch. ‘Yes. It’s fine. Really. I want to do this.’ He ran a finger around the inside of his shirt collar. ‘Just a bit … you know.’
‘You’re … not just doing this for
Of course he was. Well, maybe. A bit anyway.
The Church was bathed in sunlight, the walls glowing with bright colours, a bunch of flowers in a vase perfuming the air.
‘No. I really want to do this.’
‘Only, if you want to back out, I’ll understand.’ She looked away. ‘Because, you’ve got to commit to this for the rest of your life…’
A shadow fell across them, and Logan looked up to see a large bald man beaming at him though a Grizzly Adams beard, a dog collar just visible through all that hair. ‘Are we ready?’
Sam squeezed Logan’s hand again. ‘Last minute nerves.’
The big man nodded. ‘I understand. It’s a big step, but I’m here to make it as easy as possible.’ He patted Logan on the shoulder. ‘Shall we?’
Deep breath. Glance at Samantha — smiling with her brows all furrowed, the silver ring in her nose sparking in the sunlight. Back to the Reverend. Nod.
‘Excellent.’ The big man steepled his fingers. ‘So if you’ll just take off your shirt and climb in the chair, we’ll get started. Won’t hurt a bit.’
Chapter 11
03:07, SEVEN DAYS AGO
Darkness. Black, like the cat that sleeps on the wall at the bottom of the garden. The one that hisses and scratches.
She blinks.
Teddy Gordon’s eyes sparkle like a crow’s. He’s sitting on the end of the bed grinning at her. She
Teddy Gordon knows she hates him. That’s why he’s friends with the monster.
If she had her way, Teddy Gordon would live at the bottom of the wheelie-bin, all dirty and stinky with the green-brown water that leaks out of the bin-bags. But Mummy says she has to be nice to Teddy Gordon, because Teddy Gordon was a present from a man Mummy likes. A man who gives her nice things. Much nicer things than Daddy ever did.
Her room smells of bananas and ice cream, but the little plastic thing plugged into the wall by the nightlight still can’t cover the old-man smell of the blue teddy bear. The window glows a pale orange, making thick shadows between the chair and the wall, behind the toy cupboard, down the side of the wardrobe. Creeping out from under the bed…
She tries to lie really still and quiet, like a dead person.
She’s not awake. She’s asleep, like a Good Little Girl.
Only Bad Little Girls wake up in the middle of the night. That’s when the monster comes out.
She shivers, even though she knows she mustn’t move at all. Not even a tiny bit.
The monster doesn’t like Bad Little Girls.
The monster with its sharp white teeth and bright-red claws. Lie still. Don’t move an inch.
She can hear it, out in the hallway, creeping on its soft hairy paws, making the floorboards creak. Creak. Creak.
She holds her breath.
Go away. No one’s awake in here. Only Good Little Girls, fast asleep and dreaming of ponies.
But the monster knows.
A rattle. A clunk. And then the door groans like an old man.
A pause.
She holds her breath.
Go away. Go away. GO AWAY!
