Dark Blood

Sandy lowered his camera and turned, scowling away in the depths of his coat. ‘Can we fuck off home now?’

‘You downloaded everythin’ to the laptop yet?’

Shrug. ‘’Cept this lot. Why?’

‘Car keys.’ Colin held out a hand.

‘Bastard…’ Sandy rummaged in his pocket, then dropped them into Colin’s black-leather palm. ‘I’m never getting home, am I?’

Colin grinned. ‘I’ve seen your wife, you should be thankin’ me. Now away you go back to your wee photos.’

They climbed into the back of the car, while Sandy stomped off towards the burnt-out house, swearing.

‘No pleasing some people.’ Colin pointed. ‘Laptop should be under the seat in front of you.’

So were a bunch of empty crisp packets, and a couple of crumpled Coke cans…Logan’s fingers brushed against a flat rectangle of neoprene. He dragged it out and handed it over.

Colin powered the thing up. ‘Right, let’s see if the wee jobby’s actually put them in the right…Buggering…’ His crooked fingers fumbled with the mousepad. ‘Fine, sod you.’ He hauled his right glove off. The pinkie stopped at the second joint, the finger next to it at the first, the puckered ends shiny and hard looking. He tried again, and the cursor wheeched through the menu structure. ‘Here we go.’

The screen filled with the mob gathered outside Knox’s house, pinched faces, mouths caught open, screaming abuse, placards waving. It was a good photo, very atmospheric. Sandy might have been a miserable sod, but he knew what he was doing with a camera.

Logan scanned the crowd, looking for a black and white bobble hat. ‘Next.’

Colin hit the key and they were looking at the same shot a fraction of a second later. And again. Then another photo of the crowd. The house. A sequence of Knox throwing the curtains wide, then his eyes bulging, then Logan lumbering up in stop motion to drag them shut again. The window shattering. More shots of the crowd.

Logan sat back in his seat. ‘Crap. This is going to take forever.’

‘How’s he taking it?’

Standing in the hall, Mandy shrugged. ‘Think he misses his electric fire.’

Knox was in the lounge, kneeling in front of the window. Praying. He’d switched off the lights, but a faint yellow glow seeped in from outside, accompanied by the distant hum of traffic on the North Deeside road.

It was a nice little flat, the kind of place they liked to feature on those makeover shows, where the before always looked a hell of a lot better than the after.

Three bedrooms, a galley kitchen, flat-screen telly, and central heating. Bliss.

Harry shifted from foot to foot. ‘You want a cup of tea, or something? I’m making anyway, it’s no problem?’

‘Coffee: black, two sugars.’

Nod. ‘Nice to be warm again, isn’t it? After that bloody great fridge of a place.’

‘The stink of mildew and mould.’

Harry grinned. ‘Those mushrooms growing under the kitchen sink.’

‘All gone up in flames.’

Silence.

‘You know.’ Harry worried at a loose button on his shirt. ‘Would’ve thought he’d be a bit more…upset. Family home, and all that.’

Mandy stepped back and closed the lounge door. If Knox wanted to sneak off through the lounge window – good luck to him. The flat was on the fourth floor, so the fall would probably break his neck. Save everyone a lot of time and trouble.

She followed Harry through to the kitchen, and watched him fill and boil the kettle. ‘I’m still not happy about the security.’

‘Yeah, well.’ He shrugged. ‘They’ll get the CCTV installed outside tomorrow. We can manage for one night, right? You want a biscuit?’

‘What if there’s an auld mannie living next door?’

‘Rocky or Caramel Wafer?’

‘Got any HobNobs?’

Harry handed over the biscuit tin. ‘Even if he gets all horny, he can’t do anything about it. Not with you and me here, and that pair from the Perv Patrol sitting out…’ Harry cleared his throat, then pulled on a smile. ‘Richard, you want a cuppa?’

Knox was standing in the doorway, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. ‘Me mam was born in that house.’

‘Mandy’s got chocolate bikkies…?’

The weedy little man took a deep shuddering breath, then helped himself to an orange Penguin. ‘Kind of a relief, like. In a way…’ He peeled back the wrapper. ‘Was tying us to the past, wasn’t it? All them ghosts holding us back…Yeah. Maybe it’s for the best.’

‘That’s the spirit.’ Harry spooned bitter-smelling brown granules into three mugs, then sloshed boiling water over the top. ‘Onwards and upwards, eh?’