‘Good lad.’ Logan hung up.
Probably wouldn’t do any good, but at least it wouldlookas if they were doing something. And with some investigationsthat was half the battle – making sure no one noticed you were just keeping busy until a lucky break popped up.
And who knew, maybe Andrew Shaw reallyhadbeen thick enough to park his Peugeot outside wherever it was they were keeping Natasha Agapova?
This whole thing could be solved by teatime.
‘Sa-arge?’ Tufty waved across the car at him. ‘Do you think I should have a housewarming, Sarge? Well, another one. I mean Ididhas one when I moved into the flat, but—’
‘Ha!’ Steel reached through from the back and thumped him one. ‘A forty-eight-hourDungeons and Dragonsmarathonisn’ta party. A party has booze, nipples, nibbles, and car keys in a bowl.’
Logan scowled at her in the rear-view. ‘Do you have to?’
‘You’re just jealous.’
‘I amnot. I just don’t see why you’ve got to get randier and lechier with every passing day.’
Ding-buzz.
COLINMILLER:
Your boss had a well crappy press conference.
Looked like someone jammed a half-defrosted jobbie up her arse.
Terrible liar too.
Steel stroked her chin. ‘It’s impending retirement that does it. Thirty years I’ve given this job.Thirty sodding years. I’ve got a lot of repressed angst to get rid of.’
Straight across at the lights, where Waterstones and Ottakar’s used to be – replaced by a New-York-style eatery and a Pret A Manger respectively. Because that was ‘progress’.
Ding-buzz.
COLINMILLER:
Something’s happened, hasn’t it?
Given I tipped you numpties off about this whole thing – think you owe me an update on any developments!
Cheeky bastard. As if he and his stupid newspaper hadn’t made everything worse.
‘Aye, wait, did I say “repressed angst”? I meant “mischief”.’ Steel flashed an evil grin. ‘Soon as I’m retired, who am I going to wind up: Susan? She doesn’t deserve that.’
‘Butwedo?’
‘Trust me, Laz: you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.’
‘Like a peptic ulcer.’
The car drove past more boarded-up units and estate-agents’ signs. Then a bit of a highlight with Gilcomston Church – all pointy and fancy, shining in the afternoon sun. A couple of homeless gentlemen sat on the steps outside: Oliver Sharples, scoofing tins of Special Brew; while his associate, Eddy Dunn polished off a two-litre bottle of Strongbow, in contravention of Aberdeen City Council Bylaws 2009. They toasted the pool car as it pottered along.
Logan thumbed out a reply to Colin’s text:
You didn’t ‘tip us off’ you cried for help. NOT the same thing.
And after your ‘fumbling the investigation’ story you get sod all!
That would teach him.
