back. ‘You want me to pass on a message?’
‘Tell him I’m running this investigation, not Faulds. Remind him that I’ll rip his balls off and stuff them down his throat if he ever disappears without my say-so again! Understand?’
Logan held up his hands. ‘Nothing to do with—’
‘In the meantime I want a rundown of all sex offenders over forty with a history of serious assault.’
Logan checked the clock on the wall. Twenty past four, forty minutes to go till he was off duty. ‘Actually, sir, I’m in the middle of something for—’
‘Did that sound like a request to you, Sergeant?’
Getting together a list of sex offenders over forty years old was only the start of it: Insch wanted them all cross-referenced to see who’d done time in prison since 1990 – when the first batch of murders stopped – and he didn’t just want them for Aberdeen either, Logan had to do it for the whole of the UK.
He sent another query running on the computer, then pasted the results into a spreadsheet. Now he had data from every police force in the nation with electronic records going back far enough to be of any use; the others would take days, if not weeks, to respond to the inspector’s request. But right now it was twenty past five.
Logan sent the list of names to the CID office printer. He’d dump them on Insch’s desk and slope off before anyone noticed.
Chance would be a fine thing.
DI Steel stopped him on the stairs. He was going down, clutching his folder full of sex offenders: she was going up, clutching her left breast through her charcoal-grey blouse. ‘Where’s your boyfriend, Faulds, then?’
‘He … er …’ Trying not to watch what she was doing.
‘Got this new bra from Markies, it’s all weird bits of plastic. Feels like a ballistic missile.’
‘Er … he’s off back to Birmingham. Rennie’s taking him to the airport.’
‘Oh aye?’ She stopped fiddling with herself. ‘So how come you’ve no’ sloped off early then?’
Logan held up his folder. ‘Going through the sex offenders list for Insch, trying to find an alternative suspect.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Steel, faking a swoon, ‘Fatty McFatfat’s considering other suspects? Did a herd of pigs just fly by the station window?’ She helped herself to the folder and riffled through the printouts, then tossed the lot back at him. ‘Waste of sodding time, but I suppose it’ll keep Chief Constable Knobjob happy.’
She turned and started back down the stairs again. ‘Well, come on then – after you slap your pervy bastards on Insch, you and me are going on a little field trip.’
Logan followed her, trying to get his list back in some sort of order. ‘Is it to the pub? Because if it isn’t—’
‘Have I ever steered you wrong?’
He didn’t answer that.
Insch was in the main incident room, surrounded by a blizzard of paperwork. The phones were going non-stop, harassed support personnel answering them, taking details, and moving onto the next caller.
DI Steel skulked in the doorway while Logan snuck in, slipped the file into Insch’s in-tray, and turned to leave.
A deep bass rumble caught him before he’d gone more than a couple of feet: ‘And where do you think you’re going?’
Damn. ‘My shift finished twenty minutes ago, sir.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Insch opened the folder and pulled out the list of names. ‘You are remembering that there’s a madman out there, aren’t you, Sergeant?’
Oh for God’s sake. ‘Yes, sir. I am remembering. But this—’
‘Good, then you can get onto INTERPOL – I want the search widened to include other countries. We’re looking for anything that matches the MO between 1990 and 2006. And while you’re at it—’
Steel settled herself on the edge of Insch’s desk. ‘Nice to see you’re taking Fauld’s suggestion to heart. All that fixation on Wiseman’s no’ healthy.’
The inspector scowled. ‘Wiseman is still my chief suspect. I’m just—’
‘Doing what you’re told. Good for you.’
Insch was starting to go scarlet. ‘This investigation—’
‘Nice to see you taking guidance for a change. Doesn’t make you any less of a man.’ She stood. ‘You’ll no’ mind if I borrow McRae here, will you?’
‘You …’ Scarlet was turning to purple.
‘Thought no’.’ A saucy wink. ‘When Faulds gets back we’ll put in a good word for you.’ She dragged Logan away, before Insch could do anything more than splutter.
DI Steel waited till they’d got all the way down the stairs before hooting with laughter. ‘Did you see the look on his face? Thought he was going to have an aneurysm.’
‘But …’ Logan looked back over his shoulder. ‘What did you have to go winding him up for? He’s bad enough as it is.’
‘Ah, relax.’ She hauled one of the double doors open and made for reception. ‘I like to see how fast I can get him to change colour. He’s like a really angry chameleon. Besides …’ the inspector paused at the end of the corridor, peering through the glass at a crowd of people in the front lobby, all looking very, very upset. ‘Second thoughts …’ She turned round and headed back towards the stairs. ‘You got any money on the sweepie?’
‘Tenner on him punching someone Saturday.’
She nodded. ‘I’ve got Monday. It’s no’ easy keeping him at just the right level of pissed-off-ishness. Too much and he snaps early – no dosh for Auntie Roberta. Too little and the bugger won’t lamp anyone.’
‘What if you’re the one he thumps?’
Steel grinned. ‘I’ll fucking kill him.’ She marched out onto the rear podium car park, sparking up a cigarette and blowing out a cloud of smoke that glowed in the security spotlights. ‘Oh, Christ, I needed that.’ She shuddered happily and puffed her way over to an unmarked pool car. ‘Right, we’re off up the hospital.’
‘You said we were going to the pub!’
‘Oh come on, no’ like you’ve got anything better to do is it? Go home and mope in an empty flat? Wah, wah, wah, my girlfriend’s in Glasgow playing cops and robbers and I’m not getting any. Wah, wah, wah …’
Silence.
She tapped ash
