Steel laughed. 'Basher Brooks? Nut job. Always having papers served on him. Got the job done though.' She slumped a little further into her chair, cigarette dangling out of the corner of her mouth. 'Remember this one time: we were raiding a B&B in Northfield, four blokes working a protection racket, and they had this dog. Rottweiler. Big fucker with teeth like this ... And it's barking and slavering and most of us are keeching our pants, but Brooks just grabs my truncheon and batters the thing's head in. And the blokes - and all four of them built like brick shite-houses, mind - take one look at Brooks, covered in dog blood and bits of skull and brains, and confess to everything.' Her nostalgic smile faded away. 'Course, it all went tits-up a couple of years later when someone died in custody. Only so many times you can get away with prisoners falling down the stairs. Why?' 'Supposed to meet him for a pint last night with Insch and Alec. Never showed.' 'No' like Basher Brooks to miss a free drink. I remember this one time ...' And she was off again, telling stories of the Detective Chief Inspector's alcoholic prowess until it was time to go home.
Logan almost made to the back door before Rennie caught up with him, shouting,'Hoy!' 'Bloody hell ... what now?' 'Bunch of us going to see the fireworks down the beach tonight, you wanna come?' The constable had changed out of his polyester CID suit into jeans, leather jacket and lurid pink shirt, his hair jelled into random spiky tufts. 'Thought you had a whole pile of INTERPOL reports to get into HOLMES.' Rennie grinned. 'Worked my boyish charms on a couple of lovely ladies in the support staff. They're going to start chucking them in tonight. Anyway, fireworks: I'm taking Laura - going out for a couple of pints and a boogie afterwards?' 'No way I'm spending another evening watching you crawl all over some poor peroxide--' 'No, no, no, no: she's not a bottle blonde. Collar and cuffs match, if you know what I mean.' Logan started walking again. Rennie loped along beside him, a dopey smile on his face. 'Taking her to Spain next month. Two weeks of sun, sand, sangria, and S.E.X. She's like no one I've ever met before. I mean, you know? She's brilliant and funny and goes like a bunny! I'm giving serious thought to settling down.' 'Met her parents yet?' 'Christ no.' He stuck his hands deep in his pockets. 'So, fireworks? You up for it?' Logan said he'd think about it.
'Hello?' Heather stood with her hands wrapped around the bars, staring out into the blackness. 'Hello? I'm thirsty ...' Silence. Darkness. 'Hello?' She felt a hand on her shoulder.
