An even smallerclunkwas followed by some rustling. Then:thump.‘Hold on...’
The pool car inched a little further along Auchmill Road, past yet more Roadnotworking cones – some of which wore those jaunty orange blinking lights, so people would be extra vigilant about the workmen who weren’t here not doing anything.
Steel pulled her hat on a little tighter. Then kicked Tufty’s seat again.
‘Stop that! Saa-arge, she’s doing it again!’
A sigh of relief slumped into Logan’s ear, then:‘OK, let’s check the folder...Right: Forensics are having another bash getting DNA from Agapova’s house, no joy yet, but they’re trying some fancy new technique to amplify samples.’
At which point, the muffled sound of flushing came down the line.
Urgh...
‘Doreen, you better not be on the—’
‘You want this info, or don’t you?...Thought so.’The gurgling whoosh of a cistern refilling. Or at leasthopefullythat’s whatthe noise was.‘Says here: Biohazard’s team is still working their way through Andrew Shaw’s associates. Nothing sticks out yet. They even spoke to everyone at the gym he used, but they were sod-all help. And looks like his mum’s threatening to sue us for defamation. No way her precious wee angel couldpossiblyhave raped all those women; rant, rant, rant, rant.’
Yeah, good luck with that.
‘Murder weapon?’
‘Probably a hammer, going by the skull fractures. Greedy seagulls didn’t help, though. They’ve bloodied the water by...urgh...eatinga bunch of the evidence.’
‘No sign of the hammer?’
‘We could dredge the River Dee, if you like, or get a scuba team in? Won’t be cheap, though.’
Tough one. Maybe adding thousands to the budget would be worth it,ifthey found the thing. Assuming they could get prints or DNA off it after all this time in the water. And assuming it was eveninthe river in the first place. Because if itwasn’t, the bean-counters at head office would be crawling up his fundament, wanting to know why he’d blown so much money on a dead end.
Logan frowned at the slow-motion creep of traffic along Auchmill Road. ‘Better let me clear it with the Boss.’ And in the meantime, perhaps there was an opportunity here? Worth a go, anyway. He cleared his throat. ‘Speaking of operational budgetary constraints: have you ever calculated overtime variance against KPI baselines? Because if not, I may have a treat for you...’
NorrelTech Wellhead Intervention Limited turned out to be an ugly, two-storey, green-and-white building, wedged in between a logistics-distribution warehouse and a wellhead-service yard. Both of which were surrounded by full-onprison-style jagged metal fencing topped with razor wire, CCTV cameras, and warning notices.
Clearly, NorrelTech wasbigon branding, with far too much signage and liveried vehicles featuring the company logo in shades of green, blue, and yellow. Like a cut-price Bond-villain’s lair.
Tufty parked in one of the ‘VISITORSONLY’ slots around the front, but there was a bigger area out back full of electric vans and cars, where a white-haired bearded gent was washing the company fleet with a big soggy sponge and not much enthusiasm.
Logan, Steel, and the wee loon climbed out into the blistering sun.
‘There.’ Tufty plipped the locks. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’
Steel hit him, then popped on her pilfered shades. ‘You’re an idiot. Mr Rumpole can drive better than you, and he’s acat.’
‘Ow!Saaaaaa-aaarge!’
Logan pulled on his peaked cap. ‘Can we at leastpretendto be professionals for five minutes?’ He jabbed a finger at Tufty. ‘You: stay here. And take the bypass next time.’ The finger poked in Steel’s direction. ‘You: stop hitting people.’ That got him a scowl. ‘Don’t care. And when we’re inside, you’re on taking notes and asking follow-ups. No letching, troublemaking, or being a pain in my hoop – otherwise you can help Doreen with the budget-variance, soon as we get back to the factory, understand?’
She squared her shoulders. ‘You remembering I used to be yourboss, you jumped-up, trouser-faced, wee...Hoy, don’t march off while I’m insulting you!’
The reception doorbweep-bwopped as Logan stepped into NorrelTech-logo central. A huge, 3D version dominated onewall. Posters featuring it and various bits of equipment covered most of the other three, while what looked like an old exhibition-display-stand thing stood behind the reception desk, clarted in little NorrelTechs. Even the desk had a big logo on the front.
As if the owners were worried that visitors might forget what they came in for.
A middle-aged blonde woman with a faint horsey air was poised behind the desk, in a black suit, with a NorrelTech neck scarf. Which sort-of gave her the look of a flight attendant. Her name badge said ‘MANDY’ but her expression was more ‘I DON’TGETPAIDENOUGHFORTHISSHIT’. She forced a smile anyway. ‘Can I help you?’
Logan removed his hat. ‘Looking for a Nicholas Wilson.’
‘Twice in two days? Are you going to arrest him this time?’