But that’s easy for him to say, isn’t it? He isn’t the one who has to bloody do it.
On the one hand, drugging children really did seem wrong, but on the other, they really were a lot less... wriggly afterward.
Lee shifted his grip, making sure Rebecca wasn’t going to slip off his shoulder, tucking her teddy bear under his arm as he picked his way through the rattling spikes of rosebay willowherb. Gloomy out here and getting darker. But no point hurrying and having an accident.
Around the back of a clump of spiky holly.
Rebecca groaned.
Poor wee thing. ‘Shhh... Almost there.’
And over to the Volvo. Hidden from the road by a huge swathe of brambles and rhododendron.
He opened the tailgate and reached in — careful to hold her in place with his other hand, didn’t want to drop her, after all — and pulled the pet carrier over. Eased her inside. Patted her on the cheek.
Looked like a sweet kid.
He placed the teddy in beside her, closed the carrier door, draped the tartan rug over the whole thing, then shut the boot. Walked around to the driver’s door and climbed in out of the rain. Smiled. Nothing quite like the satisfaction of a job well done.
Lee plucked the cheap burner phone from his pocket and dialled from memory. Listened to it ring as he started the car and pulled out onto the track, driving in the opposite direction to the woman and her mud-spattered four-by-four. No point taking any risks. And yes, technically it was against the law to use a mobile phone while driving, but this was a private road, so there you go.
Jerry, sounding cheerful, but noncommittaclass="underline" ‘Hello?’
‘Our final item is now in stock.’
‘Excellent. No issues?’
Trees and bushes slid past the car, dark and brooding. Have to turn the headlights on in a minute, once he was a safe distance from the cottage.
‘Some people need the rules explaining to them, that’s all.’
‘Good. Excellent. Well, in that case, I think you’re all in for a lovely evening tomorrow.’
‘Looking forward to it.’ He hung up, slowed for the junction, flicked on his headlights and turned right onto the narrow road. Threw back his hoodie’s hood, removed the grey mask, and placed it in its box on the passenger seat.
Lee turned in his seat. ‘Hope you’re ready to make some nice new friends, Rebecca! Well, maybe not nice, nice, but at least they’ll give me a lot of money, and in the end isn’t that what matters?’
Of course it was.
— in the dark woods, screaming —
33
The stairwell rang with the sound of feet and voices, coming from the floors below as Logan plodded his way up. One hand on the bannister, one on his phone. ‘I’d love to, but I’ve no idea when I’ll get finished tonight.’
Tara sighed. ‘You sure?’
‘I know I’m only in charge for forty-eight hours, but it’s still a murder inquiry.’
A tiny PC thundered down the stairs, carrying a stack of case files. He nodded at Logan on the way past. ‘Guv.’
‘Damien.’ Logan kept on climbing.
‘And have you decided how you’re going to make things up to me yet, or do I need to impose sanctions?’
‘Sanctions?’
‘Oh, I’ll go all United Nations on your arse. You’ll think North Korea’s getting off lightly.’
‘OK, now you’re being cruel.’ He walked past the lifts and pushed through the double doors, into the corridor beyond.
‘I got dumped with your kids last night, Logan. I’m allowed to be cruel.’
‘Yeah, you’ve got a point.’
A couple of doors down, Rennie poked his head out of the temporary office and waved. ‘Thought it was you. DCI Hardie’s throwing a wobbly!’
Wonderful.
‘Sorry: got to go.’
‘I know, I know. “It’s a murder.”’ She hung up.
Logan sighed and put his phone away. ‘Has Norman Clifton seen his solicitor yet?’
‘I’m not kidding about Hardie: this isn’t just any old wobbly, it’s a full-on, five-star, man-the-lifeboats, wibbly wobbly. He’s about thirty seconds off exploding and taking everyone with him. Wants you in his office A.S.A.F.P.’
Wonderful.
‘What’s gone wrong now?’
34
Hardie’s office door was open, letting the sound of muttered voices ooze out into the corridor, overlaid by the harsh electronic ringing of his desk phone.
Logan stopped, hand up — ready to knock.
DS Robertson and DS Scott had Hardie hemmed in behind his desk and he did not look happy.
Scott dumped a huge stack of paperwork into the in-tray. ‘Five hundred door-to-doors and not a single lead.’
‘What a shock.’ Robertson grabbed the ringing phone. ‘DCI Hardie’s office... Uh-huh... Uh-huh...’
DI Fraser fumed in one of the visitors’ chairs, arms folded, eyebrows down, as if someone had spat in her ear. ‘Completely unbelievable that anyone could be that stupid. It’s a PR disaster! How are we supposed to get the public to trust us after this?’
Hardie shook his head. ‘As if I haven’t got enough to deal with already...’
DS Scott tapped the pile of paper. ‘We’ve done another appeal for witnesses, but you know what it’s like: soon as they find out there’s a reward we’re swamped with crazies, loonies, time-wasters, chancers, and conmen.’
Fraser shook a finger at the ceiling. ‘It’s unforgivable!’
Logan knocked on the door frame.
No one paid any attention.
‘Hold on, I’ll check.’ Robertson put a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. ‘Boss, they can get you on the six o’clock news for another appeal. Interested?’
Hardie sagged. ‘Urgh... OK, OK. Six o’clock.’
Robertson went back to the phone. ‘Yup, six is fine... OK.’
‘You’re busy.’ Logan hooked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘I can pop by later if you like?’
Hardie looked up, face darkening. ‘Oh no you don’t!’ He reached for his in-tray, stopped, then scowled at Scott’s big stack of forms. ‘Oh for God’s sake!’ He snatched them up and dumped the paperwork into Scott’s hands. Then hauled out a sheet of paper and thrust it in Logan’s direction. ‘The Aberdeen Examiner faxed over Monday’s front page, wanting a comment.’
Why did that sound like a threat?
‘OK...’ Logan stepped into Hardie’s office and took the sheet of paper. The headline blared, ‘HEARTLESS POLICE SLANDER ELLIE’S DAD’ above a photo of Russell Morton looking stern and disappointed. And for some bizarre reason an inset photo of Logan sat on the right with the subheading ‘POLICE HERO TURNS CRUEL COP’.
Oh for...
He poked the page with a finger. ‘How did they get hold of this?’
Hardie folded his arms, chin up, teeth bared. ‘Go on then: read it.’
‘Because this isn’t—’
‘Out loud for all the boys and girls!’
Great.
Logan took a breath and did what he was told. ‘“In a shocking move, police officers visiting Ellie Morton’s worried parents branded her stepfather a ‘workshy scrounger’...” That’s not strictly true.’
Hardie’s fist banged off the desk. ‘It shouldn’t even be vaguely true! What the bloody hell were you thinking?’