Flesh House

'Can we get on with this please?' said Insch. 'I was only--'' McRae,' Insch handed the book back to Logan and told him to put it in the filing cabinet and find it again. Logan groaned. 'But we're in the middle of--' 'Sergeant, this is a key discovery in the case: you're going to be a hero on national television. Now put the bloody book back and remember to act all surprised when you find it!' 'You know,' Faulds said,'if you feel uncomfortable faking it, Logan, I'm sure DI Insch, or myself would be happy to do it for you. We--' 'No. DS McRae found the thing: he should be the one getting the credit for it.' 'Oh, well, of course ... I never meant that we'd take the credit for his hard work, I just thought ... if he wasn't comfortable--' 'He's comfortable. Aren't you, Sergeant.' It wasn't a question. 'Yes, sir.' Logan stuck the overtime ledger back in the filing cabinet, waited for Alec to shout 'ACTION!', then did the whole thing again. 'Terrific!' The cameraman gave them the thumbs up when they were done. 'Now all I need is for someone to explain who this Wiseman bloke is and we've got a great scene. Just try not to make it too expositiony, OK? I want it to look nice and natural.'

'Of course you know what this means?' said Insch, as McFarlane was stuffed into the back of a patrol car with a blanket over his head. Faulds nodded. 'We've got a chance to do it properly this time.' Two constables pulled back the barrier and the patrol car drove out into a barrage of flash photography and shouted questions. 'We did it properly last time.' 'Then why did it get thrown out on appeal?' The inspector sighed. 'Because the jury were idiots. McRae!' Logan held up a hand, mobile phone clamped to his ear, listening to Alpha Seven Two reporting back on their search of Wiseman's street. 'OK, yeah, thanks.' He hung up. 'Couple of neighbours think they saw Wiseman going out last night around ten. Not seen him since. They say he stays out pretty regularly.' Insch swore. 'I want every uniform out there looking for him. Roadblocks on all major routes out of Aberdeen. Get onto the port, the bus station, railway and the airport. Search his house - I want a recent photo, circulate it. Posters up in all the usual places. Send out a notice to every police force in the UK.' Logan groaned. 'But it's nearly eleven; I've been on duty since two yesterday afternoon!' 'Eleven?' Insch peered at his watch, frowned, rubbed a fat hand over his face, and swore again. 'Post mortem starts in three minutes.' He turned and marched off towards the barricade, peeling off his SOC suit and thrusting it into the arms of a spotty-faced PC. Faulds watched him go, then placed a hand on Logan's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 'You did well there, Sergeant. Good work.'