Pine stopped right in front of their desks. ‘As you were.’
At which point Doreen flinched, letting out a strangled ‘Eeek!’ While Biohazard cameveryclose to losing his honeycomb.
He scrambled to recover the bag, before its contents went everywhere. ‘Boss!Guv. Erm...’ Holding out the almost-spilled sweets. ‘Sorry. Charles MacGarioch might as well be a sodding mannequin for all he’s contributing in there.’
Everyone helped themselves to a chocolaty treat, even Tufty.
Logan crunched through a cube of salty-sugary goodness. ‘Ask him about the money. In the car, on the way back from the circus, he said he did it because he “needed the money”.’
Pine peeled the chocolate off her honeycomb, like some sort of serial killer. ‘What money?’
‘Exactly. And don’t let Hissing Sid fudge the issue.’
She helped herself to another rattling handful. ‘Now that MacGarioch’s in custody, I’m sure DI Marshall can tidy everything up here – I needyouto concentrate on Natasha Agapova and the protest march.’ She pointed. ‘DI Marshall: keep at him. It’s possible he’ll let something slip, but I doubt it. We’ve got enough forensic evidence for a solid case, but I want everything watertight, understand?’
A nod. And a surreptitious lowering of the bag, out of grabbing reach.
‘Good. DI Taylor: you’re probably better deployed elsewhere. Don’t think we needtwoacting detective inspectors in there, twiddling their thumbs.’ A sniff. ‘Besides, I think DCI McRae wants you to stand in for him at some meetings.’
Logan bit his top lip. ‘Ah...’
Busted.
His ears went much hotter than normal.
‘Yes, right.’ Biohazard gathered up his folders and files. ‘Well, we’ll...erm...’ and off he scuttled, followed by Doreen – dragging Tufty away with them. Leaving Logan at the mercy of Chief Superintendent Pine.
‘You see, Boss,...I felt...what withall the other thingsdemanding our attention...and given theoperationalpressures...besides, it’s a valuablecareer-path development opportunityfor—’
‘I know I said, “delegation is the key to a healthy work-life balance”, but you still need to befullyacross your brief.’ Pine stared at him. ‘Are you?’
The warmth spread from his ears to his cheeks. ‘I get a one-page summary on every meeting she attends.’
Silence.
Pine tilted her head to one side. ‘Sounds sensible. And it means you’ve got nothing distracting you from finding Natasha Agapova.Todaywould be nice. Preferably in time forthe lunchtime news.’ She turned to go. ‘And don’t forget to get each of your teams’ overtime-budget-and-schedule-variance-against-KPI-baselines calculated. Need that in by the end of the week.’
Striding away to spread her own special brand of joy and delight to some other poor bastard.
End of the week. AKA:today.
Logan screwed his eyes shut and sagged.
Friday the thirteenth strikes again...
LXXII
The path winds through the bush, green and glowing as it follows Hyland’s Creek.
Been a while since fire’s roared through here, and the gum trees are thick and emerald-topped, shedding their bark in great papery blades of grey.
The sun’s low in the sky, a faint nip to the air – that’ll change as the day warms up, but for now Natasha’s breath glows like golden flame as she hikes up Redpath Hill, behind Nanna Carter’s house.
It’s not aswankyhouse, like on Dad’s side, but who needs a view of Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Opera House, when you’ve got a chunk of bush to call your own?
Somewhere off to the left, a kookaburra cackles like a mad woman. An outback Baba Yaga, calling for children to eat.
Natasha keeps climbing, right on up to the top of the hill.