‘Sarge!’ The wee loon pouted across the car. ‘Saaa-aarge: tell her!’
‘Don’t be such a snidge.’ She posed for another snap. ‘How was I supposed to know it wasn’t free to a good home?’
‘It had a note on it: “Is Tufty’s Lunch! Hands Off Thieving Bumheads!” with three exclamation marks!’
‘You know the rules: any food left in the CID fridge overnight is fair game.’ A happy sigh. ‘And a very nice breakfast it made.’
‘Saaaaaaaaa-aaaaaarrrrrrrrge!’
Logan shrugged. ‘Sorry, Tufty, but rules is rules. You should’ve...’
Ding-buzz.
The pool car coasted to a stop at the roundabout onto King George IV Bridge, behind a Fiat Punto that some naughty person had prised the ‘P’ off and replaced with a ‘C’.
Logan brought up his messages.
COLINMILLER:
Got a hot story about to break.
Want to get your excuses in before it does?
Bloody hell, whatnow?
Whatever it was, it would probably be bad news. Because when was it ever anything else?
He dialled the bugger back anyway.
Colin picked up on the second ring.‘News desk.’
‘What story?’
There was a wee pause.
‘Why Acting DCI McRae, how lovely to hear your dulcet tones, and that.’
‘Don’t be an arse: we were on our way to see you anyway. Well, not you. Thought you’d resigned.’ The car inched closer to the roundabout. ‘What story, Colin?’
‘That guy you got flattened by a truck, yesterday – turns out he’s one of Charles MacGarioch’s mates. Kind of looks like Police Scotland’s deliberately targeting these poor benighted orphans.’
Sod. That was quick.
‘“Benighted”? Since when did you use big long words like—’
‘Or maybe you mean the story about Iain Grant suing Police Scotland for reckless endangerment, causing psychological distress, and the infliction of life-changing injuries?’
What?
‘Who the hell is Iain Grant?’
The swirl of cars paused, and Tufty nipped out onto the roundabout, following that Fiat You-Know-What-O, onto the bridge over the River Dee.
Couldn’t be far from here to where they’d found Andrew Shaw’s body, but that bit of the riverbank was hidden behind a bend in the river.
‘Iain Grant, AKA: Mr FreezyWhip. Owner of that ice-cream van you high-speed chased into the River Don, two days ago.’
‘He’ssuingus? I pulled him out the water! I saved his life!’