Dark Blood

Logan took a sip, then knocked back a couple of Pete’s paracetamol. ‘Bog windows still got bars on them?’

Another shrug.

Logan picked up a beer mat and stuck it on top of his pint glass. Then turned and wandered across the sticky linoleum to the sign marked ‘BUCKS’. Stopped for a moment outside. Then pushed the door open.

25

The toilet door creaked open on a dark room.

Blink. Bzzzzzzzz. Blink.

The fluorescent lamp never got past the start-up phase, sending out little flashes of dim light.

Bzzzzzzzz. Blink. Blink. Bzzzzzzzz.

A short, stainless steel trough ran along one wall, the tiles beneath them shiny with poor targeting. Two graffiti-scrawled cubicles, one with the door missing. Toilet seat was gone too, and there was no way you’d want to expose your bare bum to whatever lurked in the bowl.

The drip, drip, drip of water in the cistern above the urinal made a dark heartbeat in the gloom.

Blink. Bzzzzzzzz. Blink.

Logan stepped into the eye-biting nip of old urine and let the door swing shut behind him. ‘Jesus, Pete, when did you last clean this place…?’

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Bzzzzzzzz. Blink. Bzzzzzzzz.

It was like standing in the middle of a horror movie.

‘Come on, Angus, I know you’re in here.’

Pale orange light oozed in through dirty windows, slowly bringing the shapes back into focus. The door to the second cubicle was closed. Not wanting to touch anything, Logan raised his foot and gave it a shove.

Locked.

Blink. Bzzzzzzzz. Blink. Blink.

‘Daz?’ He tapped the graffiti-covered chipboard with the toe of his shoe. ‘That better not be you in there having a wank…’

Silence.

Logan pulled back his foot and gave the door a kick, springing the lock. The boom reverberated around the narrow, stinking room. Someone gave a little yelp.

Whoever it was, they’d managed to get their top half out of the narrow window above the toilet, one foot on the cistern, the other waving about in the air, backside wiggling, rucksack stuck in the small opening.

‘Angus?’

The thrashing stopped. Then started again, feet swinging about madly.

Logan crossed his arms and only just stopped himself from settling against the cubicle wall. ‘It’s OK, take your time.’

The legs went limp. Then started up again.

‘Should have taken the backpack off before you tried to sneak out the window.’

A muffled, ‘Fuck…’ One last kick, then everything sagged. ‘I’m stuck.’

‘Really?’

‘Er…How about we cut a deal?’

‘Sorry Angus, it’s against Grampian Police policy to negotiate with people’s backsides. What’s in the rucksack?’

Pause. ‘Stuff?’

‘You put Danny Saunders in touch with two loan sharks.’

‘Er…I…I’m getting snowed on.’

‘Pair of blokes called Gallagher and Yates.’

Another bout of wriggling. ‘I’m catching my death out here!’

‘Good. Now tell me about Gallagher and Yates.’

‘This is police brutality…Can I at least come in out the snow?’

‘No. Talk.’

‘Fucking CID.’ Sigh. ‘They’re new boys, OK? Pair of big bastards up from Edinburgh looking for investment opportunities. You know?’

‘Who do they work for?’

‘I…Look, I’m losing all sensation in my arms here.’