Logan picked his way through the snowy tufts. ‘Morning, Danny.’
‘I didn’t rob that jewellers on Huntly Street!’
‘Yeah, I know. I arrested someone for that yesterday.’
Behind him Logan could hear PC Butler climbing out of the car, scrunching over to back him up.
‘Oh aye?’
‘Funniest thing, but the guy was called “Alan Gardner”. Ring any bells?’
Danny coughed, then glanced over the ridge of the steading roof at the moss-streaked caravan, just visible around the corner. ‘Never heard of him.’
‘You told him you’d break his daughter’s legs if she didn’t pay off her drug debt.’
‘Got to get back to work. The roof gets all warped if it’s not—’
‘Danny? Why can’t I hear hammering?’ A woman’s voice, coming from the caravan. Logan turned to see the pregnant fiancee standing there with her hands on her hips, face flushed, mouth a hard line. ‘You know we need that roof waterproofed before it snows again. Don’t make me come up there!’
‘Oh Jesus…’ He straightened up and shouted back. ‘It’s the police.’
Logan clumped through the snow towards her. ‘Stacy Gardner?’
‘You know fine well it is. What do you want?’
‘I had a very interesting chat with your dad, Stacy. Says he’s sorry he hasn’t come up with more money, but he kind of got arrested doing over a jewellery shop on Huntly Street. He hopes your dealer,’ Logan nodded at the man balancing on the roof, ‘will give him a bit more time before hurting you.’
Stacy throttled the dishcloth in her hands. ‘No idea what you’re talking about.’
Danny sighed. ‘Stacy, love, it’s not—’
‘You shut up, Danny Saunders,
‘Stacy, we—’
‘I said I’m
Logan nodded. ‘But you still trust him to look after Nicole, don’t you? What is she, two, three? We had to put her into care.’
The pregnant woman stiffened. ‘She’s not my daughter any more. I’m making a
‘He’s sold everything for you, you know that don’t you? Car, furniture, telly, cashed in his pension – even the house is up for sale, because he thinks you’re in trouble.’
Stacy turned and reached back into the caravan for something, keeping whatever it was hidden by her pregnant bulge. ‘So he sends me money every now and then. Not like I don’t deserve it, is it? Just my share of mum’s inheritance.’
‘It’s extortion.’
She swivelled round, both hands behind her back, and sniffed as if fighting back a tear. ‘It wasn’t
Up on the roof, her fiance’s mouth fell open. ‘You lying cow!’
‘Where do you think Daddy got the idea to use a sledgehammer? That was Danny’s trick.’
‘I was the one tried to talk you out of it!’
Stacy took a step forward, biting her bottom lip. ‘Sorry, Danny, but I can’t cover for you any more. It was all his fault, Officer. He
Logan looked back at the roof.
Mistake.
Stacy lunged, hands coming out from behind her back – eight inch carving knife in one hand, steaming kettle in the other. The kettle lashed past, close enough for Logan to feel the heat on his cheek.
He staggered back, arms over his head as the knife slashed down, the point tearing through the sleeve of his jacket.
Logan’s heel caught something buried in the snow and he went crashing down on his backside for the second time in two days. Looking up at someone who wanted him dead.
And then a blur of black and fluorescent yellow: PC Butler charged across the rutted ground, her peaked cap flying off. Stacy snarled and swung the knife again in a huge overhead slash.
Butler darted in, arm up. She blocked Stacy’s stab, reached through with her other hand in some sort of weird jujitsu limb origami, and pulled, forcing the pregnant women’s arm to bend in ways it
Stacy’s eyes bulged, then she screamed and lurched back into the wall of the caravan. ‘You’re breaking my arm!’
‘Drop the knife, or I’ll pop it right out of the socket!’
‘Get off me you
