coughed. 'They've even got that bit in it where DI McFarlane trips over and ... breaks his wrist ... it ... they put a funny soundtrack on it ...' He pulled the DVD from the machine and handed it to Logan. 'Sorry, sir.' 'Thought you were supposed to be dealing with those INTERPOL files.' 'DI Steel said it was a waste of time and I had to try identifying the other victims instead. So I'm trolling through the misper lists looking for fatties ... I mean larger men and women who fit the victim profile. Then getting stuff to DNA-sample. See if they match any of the chunks we found.' 'Yeah, I heard.' Logan turned the disk over - Alec had even made a cheesy label for the thing:'GRANITE CITY 999: LICENSED TO LAUGH' 'Trouble is, half the buggers aren't even missing any more. Three thousand misper reports last year, and does anyone bother to let us know when their nearest and dearest turn up safe and sound? Do they hell. What are we, psychic?' 'Poor old Simon Rennie. Boo-hoo.' 'Yeah, well ... Word is we're going get a case review. ' Logan groaned. 'When?' 'No idea. Soon.' 'Who?' 'Strathclyde.' 'I see ...' Strathclyde Police - where Jackie was. He'd not heard from her since she'd trashed the flat. He should take a leaf out of those home security lectures they kept having to give and get the locks changed, just in case she decided to come back and 'redecorate' again. '--tonight?' He looked up to find Rennie staring at him. 'What?' 'You know, in the old days at least you used to pretend you were listening. Do - you - want - to - go - out - tonight? Bowling and beer. I can ask Laura to bring along a friend if you like? You know, now that you and Jackie ... well, you know.' 'Thanks,' Logan dropped the
'
