'Tell me what? David...?' 'Tell her.' 'He killed at least a dozen people. Butchered their remains and ate them.' The bitch's eyes went wide, then locked onto the frying pan and its tasty, meaty contents. 'Oh God ...' Wiseman leant down and whispered in Insch's ear. 'You haven't asked where your daughters are.' The fat man screamed.
22
Rennie barged into the history room, skidding to a halt on the tatty green carpet tiles. 'You'll never guess what! Logan didn't look up. 'What happened to the tea?' 'Wiseman's called the BBC again: Torry Battery, two pm! The DCS wants everyone in the briefing room, now.'
The Detective Chief Superintendent in charge of CID drew a red 'X' on the whiteboard -' ... and the third set of marksmen will be here. Plainclothes officers will be in two cars parked here, and here. Another three will pose as dog walkers.' More squiggles on the board. 'Everyone else will be in unmarked police vans here ... and here.' He gave the nod, and someone clicked onto the next slide in the presentation: a grey and white outside broadcast van. 'The BBC are lending us this on the condition that one of their cameramen is present for the arrest.' Rennie leant over and whispered at Logan,'There's a surprise. These TV buggers--' The DCS glared at him. 'Do you have something to add, Constable?' Rennie froze. 'Er ... I was just saying that there's a safety issue, sir. You know, with a civilian being present.' Logan was impressed: it was a feat of weaselry worthy of DI Steel. The DCS nodded. 'Good point. I don't need to tell you all how dangerous Ken Wiseman is. No one is to take any chances, but I want him in a cell, not a body bag. Now, any questions?' Logan stuck his hand up. 'He called the BBC at quarter to eleven to make an appointment for two. That's over three hours. He's got to know they'd tell us about it, why give us so much notice?' It was Faulds who answered. 'Wiseman has a serious persecution complex. This is his chance to go down in a blaze of glory, and he gets to do it all on national television.' The DCS cleared his throat. 'As I was saying: no one is to take any chances.' He pointed at one of the firearms officers. 'Yes, Brodie?' 'Where's DI Insch?' 'The inspector is taking some personal time. Any other questions?'
Back in the history room, Logan peered at Faulds over a pile of crime scene reports. 'I still say he should be there.' The Chief Constable sighed. 'As your DCS says, Insch has been under a lot of stress lately, he just needs some time--' 'I've called his house and his mobile a dozen times, what if something's happened?'
