‘Yeah.’ He bared his top teeth. ‘They were DCI McCulloch’s, only now he’s off on the sick as well, so...?’
‘Of course he is.’ Sagging back in the passenger seat. ‘Yetmoresodding work.’
Steel checked herself in the rear-view mirror. ‘Are youseriouslygoing to slog your way through a bunch of sharny review meetings? When we could be out there: catching crooks and showing off my swanky new hairdo?’
‘God’s sake...’ Logan scrubbed a hand across his face. ‘I haveresponsibilities. I can’t just—’
‘You’re such an idiot, Laz. Did you no’ learnanythingallthe years I was your boss?’ Tousling her curls as she preened in the mirror. ‘You’re an actingDCInow – you don’t do your own case reviews! You pick some hapless halfwit DI and you makethemdo it. And if they whinge, you say it’s a “career-path development opportunity” and you’re doing them a favour.’ Waving a hand as if it was all settled. ‘Tell them they have to produce a one-page summary for each meeting – in case some tosser further up the tree asks you about it – and everyone’s happy.’
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.
‘Know what? I’m going to take your advice and palm my case reviews off on a hapless DI.’ He pointed at her primping reflection. ‘Here’s a “career-path development opportunity” for you,ActingDI Steel.’
‘Aye, nice try. Doesn’t work if the victim knows what you’re up to.’ Steel clicked her seatbelt on. ‘So: where we going?’
Ah well, it’d been worth a try.
‘Altens. Time to have a rummage through our missing newspaper tycoon’s work-life.’
The patrol car drifted south along Great Southern Road – which was a very grand name for a tooty-wee stretch of dual carriageway strung between two roundabouts.
Duthie Park was almost invisible behind a granite wall and bank of trees on the left, but a veritable henge of headstones popped above the eight-foot-high enclosure on the other side of the road. Which was, hopefully, tall enough to keep all the dead folk from breaking out of Allenvale Cemetery anytime soon.
Steel had moved on from admiring herself in the rear-view mirror to taking puckered-lips selfies, like a teenager.
Tufty nodded along to whatever song was playing in his hollow little head.
While Logan had a quick peek at his phone’s screen to make sure the call hadn’t been disconnected.
Doreen finally found her voice again: ‘Are yousure, Guv?’
‘Think of it as a reward for all the sweaty searching. Plus, it’s a great career-path development opportunity: shows the bosses you’re ready to step up to DI full-time, if a vacancy opens up.’
‘Thanks, Guv! I won’t let you down.’
‘I know: I trust you. Just make sure you’ve got those one-page summaries done by close of play, OK? Right, off you go. First meeting’s in thirty-eight minutes.’
Logan ended the call and sat back in his seat.
Not feeling guilty about it in the slightest.
Not even a tiny bit.
Nope.
Tufty kept his eyes front, mouth pinched shut, not noggin-dancing any more. Radiating...judgement.
‘Well, itisa good career opportunity.’
Still nothing.
‘Oh...shut up.’
The park’s high boundary wall gave way to more decorative wrought-iron railings, but the cemetery maintained its eight-foot barrier to contain the dangerous dead.
Tufty’s stomach broke the judgemental silence with a popping grumble. ‘Sarge, after we’ve been to the newspaper, can we go back to the ranch? I has not had no lunch, and there’s still delicious curry in the CID fridge from yesterday.’
Steel stopped taking her own photograph for long enough to grin. ‘No there isn’t.’