The Missing and the Dead. Stuart MacBride

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘POLICE’ sign and the sprawl of patrol cars and vans parked outside, it could have passed for an ancient hotel.

      A handful of reporters wandered about out front, drinking from Styrofoam cups and sunning themselves in the early morning glow. Waiting …

      Logan emptied out the kettle, filled it, and put it on to boil. ‘You want a tea?’

      Steel appeared in the doorway. ‘How long’s it going to take you to do this place up: five years? Ten?’

      ‘It’s a work in progress.’

      ‘Pfff …’ Then she dug into her plastic bag and pulled out a copy of the Daily Mail. Slapped it down on the working surface. ‘Looks like your PC Nicholson’s no’ the only thing that’s leaky up here.’

      Most of the front page was taken up with a photo of Neil Wood, beneath the headline, ‘SICKO SEARCH ~ POLICE HUNT FOR MISSING PAEDOPHILE’. There was even a small inset photo of the outdoor pool at Tarlair.

      ‘Well, don’t look at my team, this is your bunch of numpties.’ He dug Cthulhu’s bowl into the bag of dried cat food. ‘So what happened with the dead girl?’

      ‘Post mortem’s at half nine. Messrs Young and Finnie in attendance, while yours truly gets to grab a whole five hours to herself …’ A jaw-cracking yawn, followed by a burp. Then a shudder. And another mouthful of beer. ‘Been on since seven yesterday morning. Two kebabs, three gallons of coffee, two proper cigarettes, a poke of chips, five tins of Red Bull, someone else’s sandwich, a bag of cheese-and-onion, and a beer.’ She raised it in salute. ‘Doing wonders for my diet.’

      Logan washed out the water bowl and filled it with fresh. ‘So join divisional, that’ll shift a few pounds.’

      ‘Cheeky sod.’ Another swig. ‘And the leak can’t have come from my numpties. Most of them spent the night carpet-bombing the porcelain. Was like the battle of Dresden in that station last night.’ A nod. ‘Luckily I’m made of sterner stuff.’

      Lucky she got DS McKenzie to make a cuppa before Logan and Nicholson got their poisoned round in, more like.

      He dried his hands on a tea towel. Did his best to look innocent. ‘Do me a favour?’

      ‘If it involves me getting naked too: no.’

      ‘Pair of local scrotes got a big shipment of drugs from down south. I’ve got a warrant for a raid. Couldn’t go in yesterday because of the wee girl …’ Through to the lounge to put Cthulhu’s bowls back where they’d come from. ‘If we leave it much longer, they’ll cut the shipment up and disappear it out onto the streets. And you’ve got all the spare bodies in the division.’ Then into the kitchen again.

      ‘Would you stop charging about? Making me seasick.’ She knocked back the rest of her beer. Clunked the bottle down on the worktop. Sagged. ‘When, and how many?’

      ‘Tomorrow evening. Say … four OSU, and a drugs dog? Syd Fraser’s good, if we can get him.’

      A massive yawn left her shuddering and stretching – shoulders up around her ears, arms locked, elbows out. ‘How long?’

      ‘Two hours. Ish.’ A quick rummage in the cupboard for a bowl and the box of waxy own-brand cornflakes. ‘About your dead girl – you’re searching the outdoor swimming pool, and the car park, and the buildings, right?’ Flakes in the bowl. ‘What if she wasn’t dumped there?’

      Steel produced a bottle opener and clicked the top off another beer. ‘She didn’t fly there on her own. Body had to get there somehow.’

      ‘There’s green weed and slime all around the main pool, especially on the seaward side. That’s only going to grow if the wall’s regularly underwater. And given we had a couple days of rough weather over the weekend …?’

      She stared at him. Then covered her face with her hands. ‘Sodding hell. She washed in from the sea.’

      ‘Sure you don’t want a cup of tea?’

      ‘Want a pee.’

      ‘Top of the stairs.’

      Her footsteps clumped up the bare steps. Then the clunk of a door closing.

      Logan sploshed milk on the flakes and checked his phone – a voicemail from Deano and a text from his mother. That got deleted unread.

       ‘Sarge, Deano. Listen, we’re having a barbecue at ours, Thursday evening. A mate’s come into some steaks, if you fancy it? Give us a shout back.’

      Why not? Be nice to have something that actually looked like real meat for a change. And by then Graham Stirling would be heading off to Barlinnie for the rest of his unnatural. Plus: they’d have raided Klingon and Gerbil’s place. Big haul of drugs, mentions in dispatches, medals, and a parade. Time to celebrate.

      It was too early to call Deano back. So Logan wolfed down the cornflakes, slipped his phone in his pocket, and a slice of bargain-basement white into the toaster. Stuck his head out into the hall. ‘Hurry up: I’ve got to go in a minute.’

      No reply.

      ‘OK, I’ll leave a spare key on the table for you. You can let yourself out.’

      Silence.

      ‘Listen,’ he walked to the bottom of the stairs, ‘thought I’d pop past and see Susan while I’m in town. See how she’s getting on. She at home today?’

      Nothing.

      Maybe she hadn’t been so lucky with the poisoned tea after all?

      ‘Hello?’ The steps creaked beneath his feet, all the way up. ‘You’ve not fallen in, have you?’ When he knocked on the bathroom door, it swung open.

      Thankfully Steel wasn’t sitting on the toilet with her trousers around her ankles. The room was empty – freshly tiled with a new bathroom suite. Cheap, but serviceable. Even if it had taken weeks to put in.

      ‘Hello?’

      A jagged rasp, like a wood-saw hacking away at a sheet of corrugated metal, came from the bedroom. Then a pause. Then another one.

      He put a hand on the door and swung it open. There she was: lying flat on her back, on his bed, with both feet still on the floor. One arm flung out to the left, the other hand draped over her right boob. Mouth wide open. Snoring.

      Wonderful.

      He swung her legs up onto the duvet, pulled off her boots, then pulled a blanket over her.

      A ‘Proooop?’ came from the hallway. Cthulhu sauntered in and hopped up on the bed beside Steel. Treddled the blanket for a minute, then turned round twice and settled onto the pillow beside her head.

      ‘Disloyal little sod.’

      Logan closed the door and left them to it.

      Logan shifted his fleece to the other hand and let himself into the station. The unnatural-pine scent of disinfectant and air freshener clawed its way into СКАЧАТЬ