Logan McRae Crime Series Books 7 and 8: Shatter the Bones, Close to the Bone. Stuart MacBride

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СКАЧАТЬ a statement together: inter-force cooperation, agreed response times, service levels, utmost importance to catching Jenny’s killer, blah, blah, blah.’

      ‘Can’t.’ Logan stuck his mug on Steel’s desk and stood. Groaned. Stretched. Slumped. ‘Was supposed to be out of here at twelve, remember? I’ve got—’

      ‘“A thing”, aye, you’ve been banging on about your mysterious “thing” for weeks. It really more important than finding out who killed a wee girl and hacked off her toe?’

      ‘Oh no you don’t – I’ve been on duty for …’ He checked his watch. ‘Christ, thirty hours straight.’ Well, with one hour off to clamber into his empty bed, but that hardly counted. He threw in a yawn for good measure. ‘Shattered …’

      She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes. ‘Fine, I’ll get Rennie to do it. Happy?’

      ‘I’ve got to go.’

      Steel pointed a finger at him, the skin stained yellow, the cherry-red nail varnish chipped. ‘Tomorrow morning, seven o’clock, on the sodding dot. And bring—’

      The phone on her desk rang.

      ‘Sod …’ She peered at the display, then snatched up the receiver. ‘Susan? What’s … No … Susan, calm down, it’s …’ Steel crumpled forward, until her head was resting on the desktop. ‘No. No I’m not saying that, Susan, it’s … Yes …’

      Logan slipped out through the door.

10

      ‘You sure you want to go through with this?’ Samantha squeezed his hand.

      Logan swallowed, blinked, cranked his smile up a notch. ‘Yes. It’s fine. Really. I want to do this.’ He ran a finger around the inside of his shirt collar. ‘Just a bit … you know.’

      ‘You’re … not just doing this for me, are you?’

      Of course he was. Well, maybe. A bit anyway.

      The Church was bathed in sunlight, the walls glowing with bright colours, a bunch of flowers in a vase perfuming the air.

      ‘No. I really want to do this.’

      ‘Only, if you want to back out, I’ll understand.’ She looked away. ‘Because, you’ve got to commit to this for the rest of your life …’

      A shadow fell across them, and Logan looked up to see a large bald man beaming at him though a Grizzly Adams beard, a dog collar just visible through all that hair. ‘Are we ready?’

      Sam squeezed Logan’s hand again. ‘Last minute nerves.’

      The big man nodded. ‘I understand. It’s a big step, but I’m here to make it as easy as possible.’ He patted Logan on the shoulder. ‘Shall we?’

      Deep breath. Glance at Samantha – smiling with her brows all furrowed, the silver ring in her nose sparking in the sunlight. Back to the Reverend. Nod.

      ‘Excellent.’ The big man steepled his fingers. ‘So if you’ll just take off your shirt and climb in the chair, we’ll get started. Won’t hurt a bit.’

11

       03:07, SEVEN DAYS AGO

      Darkness. Black, like the cat that sleeps on the wall at the bottom of the garden. The one that hisses and scratches.

      She blinks.

      Teddy Gordon’s eyes sparkle like a crow’s. He’s sitting on the end of the bed grinning at her. She hates Teddy Gordon. Hates his nasty blue fur. Hates his horrid stitched-on smile. Hates the way he smells of smoking.

      Teddy Gordon knows she hates him. That’s why he’s friends with the monster.

      If she had her way Teddy Gordon would live at the bottom of the wheelie-bin, all dirty and stinky with the green-brown water that leaks out of the bin-bags. But Mummy says she has to be nice to Teddy Gordon, because Teddy Gordon was a present from a man Mummy likes. A man who gives her nice things. Much nicer things than Daddy ever did.

      Daddy wouldn’t let Teddy Gordon sleep on the end of her bed.

      Her room smells of bananas and ice cream, but the little plastic thing plugged into the wall by the nightlight still can’t cover the old-man smell of the blue teddy bear. The window glows a pale orange, making thick shadows between the chair and the wall, behind the toy cupboard, down the side of the wardrobe. Creeping out from under the bed …

      She tries to lie really still and quiet, like a dead person.

      She’s not awake. She’s asleep, like a Good Little Girl.

      Only Bad Little Girls wake up in the middle of the night.

      That’s when the monster comes out.

      She shivers, even though she knows she mustn’t move at all. Not even a tiny bit.

      The monster doesn’t like Bad Little Girls.

      The monster with its sharp white teeth and bright-red claws.

      Lie still. Don’t move an inch.

      She can hear it, out in the hallway, creeping on its soft hairy paws, making the floorboards creak. Creak. Creak.

      She holds her breath.

      Go away. No one’s awake in here. Only Good Little Girls, fast asleep and dreaming of ponies.

      Please go away …

      But the monster knows.

      A rattle. A clunk. And then the door groans like an old man.

      A pause.

      She holds her breath.

      Go away. Go away. GO AWAY!

      Good Little Girl. Sleeping.

      The monster rustles, right beside her bed. Breathing.

      Whooomph … Hisssssssss. Whooomph … Hisssssssss.

      Standing right over her. In the dark.

      Don’t move …

      But her chest aches, like a big purple bruise. And then her body tells on her, gasping in a great whoosh of air. And now it’s too late: it knows she’s awake. Her eyes snap open …

      Light spills in through the open door. Teddy Gordon grins from the bottom of the bed.

      But the monster’s different. Its face is waxy-shiny, and it’s naked – its skin all crinkly white, rustling as it breathes. Whooomph … Hisssssssss. Whooomph … Hisssssssss. One eye glows red in the darkness.

      Daddy СКАЧАТЬ