Jackie nodded. 'There'll be more scrapbooks.' She must have seen the expression on Logan's face in the rear- view mirror, because she turned to stare at him. 'What? Souter's a hoarder, isn't he? He'll have every article he's ever clipped.' She had a point. 'Can you imagine growing up here?' said Logan, watching the IB slowly disappear as the windscreen fogged up again. 'Downwind of the abattoir, everything you own covered in a greasy film. Go to school and it clings to your clothes and your hair. All the kids pick on you because you smell. Then you go home and your alki dad beats the shite out of you.' Faulds wiped the windscreen again. 'You're not suggesting this isn't Jimmy Souter's fault?' 'I'm just saying it's ... well, not understandable , but you know ... it's amazing Elizabeth Nichol turned out as well as she did. Wonder if her sister ...' he trailed off into silence. Faulds said something about search warrants and national appeals, but Logan wasn't listening, he was staring out at the row of derelict houses. He pulled out his phone and called the station, getting them to put him through to DC Rennie. There was a long pause while someone went to get the constable out of the locker-room showers. The IB van did a clumsy three point turn and juddered past, the driver waving them a cheery goodbye. The red tail lights glowed like halos of blood as it disappeared down the road, leaving them alone in the dark. Alec jogged over to the car and clambered in the back with Jackie. His SOC suit had gone a nasty, patchy grey colour, and it dripped filthy water all over the seats as he shrugged out of it. 'Like a demolition derby in there.' He coughed, blew his nose, then checked his camera. 'Didn't find anything though. Probably stick the footage together as a ten second jump-cut montage. You know: tearing the skirting off, floorboards up, fireplace--' And then Rennie was on the other end of the phone.'Yo? ' 'What happened to the children's homes?' 'I didn't have time to finish --' 'This is important you know! I didn't ask you for fun.' 'OK, OK, no need to get all snippy. Can I get dressed first, or do you want me to go running upstairs in the altogether? ' That was a visual image Logan really didn't need. He hung up. 'Well,' said Faulds,'going to share with the rest of the class?' 'I am a carrot. Rennie is a stick. What if--' 'No wait ... hold on ...' Alec got his camera going. 'Aaaand ... Action!' 'Would you stop doing that?' Pause. 'The whole street's deserted - what if Jimmy just picked one of the other houses? He's been smart enough to get away with this for over twenty years.' Logan killed the engine and reached across the Chief Constable for the glove compartment, looking for the torch. It was buried right at the back in a graveyard of empty crisp packets, and by some strange miracle the batteries actually worked. Logan clicked it on and shone it through the clear patch of windscreen at the row of dilapidated houses. 'You're joking, right?' asked Jackie from the back seat. 'We're not seriously going to--'
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