She grabbed the bars. 'Get me out! Don't you dare leave me in here!' Mr New looked back at her. 'It's padlocked, OK? The bars are padlocked. I'll get help. I'll bring them back.' 'Seriously: this is a really, really bad idea!' 'Don't leave me!' 'I'll be back ...' He put one hand against the door and pushed. Outside, there was nothing but a dirt-walled corridor lit by a flickering fluorescent tube. And for the first time, Heather got a look at her cellmate: he wasn't a tall man, but he looked ... friendly, with his bald head and little white beard. He stepped over the threshold. 'I promise. I'll be back.' And Mr New was gone. Duncan wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. 'Shhhh. It's OK. He'll be back soon. You'll see. He'll be back soon, then everything will be all night again.'
The sunlight was already beginning to go as the search team worked its way across the large back garden. 'You know what, Sherlock,' said Steel, cigarette firmly clamped between her lips, smoke curling away into the pale blue sky,'this wasn't one of your better ideas.' Logan leant on the decking rail and watched one of the dog handlers trying to persuade his Alsatian not to crap in the flower beds. 'There's got to be something here.' 'I'm giving this ten more minutes then we're sodding off back to the station.' Steel flicked her cigarette butt away to join the little pile she'd made in the last couple of hours. 'But first - you can go put the kettle on.' Logan opened the patio doors and they stepped back into the kitchen, just as one of the IB techs was shovelling a dessert spoon of ice-cream into his gob. He froze as he caught sight of them. 'Whad?' mouth full,'Id was onry goig to wasde ...' Steel snatched the spoon from his hands. 'This is supposed to be a crime scene!' The tech swallowed, blushed and stuck the carton back on the work surface. 'I was only--' 'Don't give me that bollocks.' She pointed back towards the rest of the house. 'Now get out there and find me some forensics: you're supposed to be a bloody professional, for God's sake!' She waited until the kitchen door closed behind the tech's embarrassed backside before asking Logan,'Well - what is it?' 'Mackie's, vanilla.' 'Ooh, cool. Get us a clean spoon, eh?' Logan rummaged one out of the kitchen drawer and passed it over. 'Ta ... You heard from Insch?' 'Wife gets out of hospital today. She wasn't well enough for the memorial service.' Steel was silent for a long time. 'Poor sods.' She dug her spoon into the tub and extracted a heap of vanilla. 'We're up to about two hundred pound in the kitty, going to get one of those benches in Duthie Park. Somewhere nice, you know: with a view of the ducks or something? In memory of Sophie Insch, 2003 to 2007. Sorely missed. That kind of thing.' 'He'd like that.'
