Stuart MacBride - In the Cold Dark Ground

‘To do your job for you.’ Logan marched up the steps and into the building. ‘As usual.’

Reception was a small room with a row of plastic seats along one wall and a closed hatch in the other. A doorbell sat on the counter, with ‘R ING F OR A TTENTION ’ on a small plastic plaque.

He did.

Steel bustled in behind him. ‘Cheeky sod.’ She peered at the sign next to the bell. Then mashed her thumb down on the button. Holding it there as the sound of ringing droned out somewhere inside the building. ‘SHOP! ANYONE IN? COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! HELLO? SHOP!’

Logan slapped her hand away and the ringing stopped. ‘OK, I think they heard you.’

She raised an eyebrow and stared at him. ‘Where’d you get that suit, Tramps-R-Us?’

‘We kick off with the third partner — the financial director. Assuming he’s not disappeared as well.’

‘Looks more like a sleeping bag than a suit.’

‘Then we split the staff in three, take one third each.’

‘Trousers are hanging off you.’

‘Anyone seems a bit sketchy, we double up on them.’

‘And that’s possibly the ugliest tie I’ve ever seen.’

He glanced down at it: blue with tiny red dots. ‘Jasmine gave me this for Christmas.’

‘She did?’ A frown. ‘For a seven-year-old, she’s got horrible fashion sense.’

‘Maybe Martin Milne has an accomplice?’

‘She gets that from your side of the family.’ Steel banged her open palm down on the desk. Bang. Bang. Bang . ‘SHOP! HELLO? GET A SHIFT ON!’

‘We should get Rennie to run a quick PNC check on all the employees before we start.’

‘They never warn you about that when you get your wife up the stick with a turkey baster, do they? Warning: donor sperm may cause your child to buy ugly ties.’

Logan stared at her. ‘Are you finished?’

A grin. ‘Any other skeletons lurking in your family cupboard I should know about? Any history of mental abnormality?’ Steel went back to hoiking at her underwear. ‘Mind you, I’ve met your mum, she’s about as normal as morris dancing. What about your dad, was he a nutter too? Suppose he must’ve been to marry your mum.’

‘Can we get back to the case, please?’

The hatch rattled open, revealing an orange-skinned bottle-blonde in a polo shirt and fleece — both of which had the Geirrød logo on them. She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes, playing the coy young thing. Which, given the fact that she had to be pushing fifty, was a bit of a stretch.

Steel sniffed. ‘Beginning to think you didn’t exist.’

The smile slipped a little, leaving its wrinkles behind. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Aye: your financial director about?’

‘I’m afraid Mr Chapman is very busy. Do you have an appointment?’

Steel pulled out her warrant card. Held it under the woman’s nose. ‘And while you’re at it, I’ll have a coffee. Milk and two.’

‘I don’t know, all right? I don’t know.’ Brian Chapman paced back and forth, in front of his office window. The room sat on the first floor, looking down on the rows of containers laid out in the yard. Chapman ran a hand through what was left of his hair, pausing to tweak the big brown mole growing just above his right eyebrow. As if he were trying to tune his head in. Dark stains lurked in the armpit of his denim shirt. A smudge of dirt on the backside of his tan chinos. He got to the line of filing cabinets and started back again. ‘If I knew where he was, I’d tell you. Believe me.’ His other hand clenched into a fist, then spread out, then clenched, then spread. Like a throbbing pulse.

Steel slouched in her seat, dunking a chocolate biscuit in a mug of coffee. ‘What about Shepherd, you been in touch with him?’

Chapman stopped pacing and glared at the mound of paperwork on his desk. ‘Oh, I’ve tried. If I get my hands on him, he’s dead. I’ll bloody kill him.’ Then Chapman must have remembered who he was talking to, because he licked his lips, then went back to pacing again. ‘You know what I mean.’

Logan tilted his head to one side. ‘Why don’t you explain it to us?’

‘Do you know what I got yesterday? Do you know what came in the post?’ He dug into the pile and pulled out a letter. Waved it at them. ‘What the hell were they thinking?’

Steel clicked her fingers and Chapman handed the letter over. She squinted at it for a bit, then held it out to Logan. ‘Do the honours.’

The Royal Bank of Scotland logo sat in the top corner. ‘It’s from the bank. A final demand on a loan of a hundred and fifty thousand pounds, plus interest.’

‘First I’d heard of it was when it landed on my desk. I’m supposed to be the financial director. How can I financially direct if I haven’t got a clue what’s going on?’

A shrug from Steel. ‘So pay it off.’

‘How? What with?’ He held his arms out, exposing the stains again. ‘Magic fairy-dust and wishes? We’re skint!’

‘Oh.’

‘I’ve managed to keep us afloat this long, but the downturn in the oil price is killing us. No one wants to pay for anything any more. I had to lay three people off last week. Do you have any idea what that feels like?’ He reached across the desk and snatched the letter from Logan. ‘So I phoned the bank and told them it had to be a mistake. We hadn’t borrowed any money. And do you know what I found out?’ Chapman scrunched the letter into a ball and hurled it at the wall. ‘I found out that this isn’t the only loan. There’s another one for seventy-five thousand that’s due in three weeks.’ Spittle flew from his lips. ‘THREE WEEKS!’

His face had taken on an unhealthy redness, his whole body trembled. ‘I’ll bloody kill the pair of them.’

‘Aye, well, we can save you the trouble there, Brian.’ Steel licked the melted chocolate off her bit of biscuit then dunked it again. ‘We found Peter Shepherd’s body, dumped in the woods, yesterday morning.’

Chapman froze. ‘Peter’s dead ?’ He sank into his office chair and blinked at them, mouth hanging open. ‘I can’t... He’s really dead?’

Logan pointed at the letter, lying crumpled on the floor. ‘Who took the loans out?’

‘Peter and Martin. They countersigned for each other, with the business as guarantee. Two hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds we don’t have.’ His hand crept up and twiddled the mole again. ‘I’m going to have to call in the liquidators.’

‘What did they use the money for?’

‘I’ll lose everything. We put our houses up as collateral when we started the business. Oh God...’

‘Did they buy equipment, or supplies?’

‘It never even touched the company bank account.’ His eyes shone, the tip of his nose reddened. ‘They had the money paid into a different account then emptied it. What am I supposed to tell Linda?’

Steel polished off the last of her biscuit. ‘How come you didn’t call us soon as you got the letter, Brian? You know we’re looking for Martin Milne.’

‘Why didn’t...? I’ve been trying to save the company, that’s why!’ The tears broke free, dribbling down his flushed cheeks. ‘I’ve been trying to save everyone’s jobs. I’ve been too busy finding out how screwed I am.’ He scrubbed a hand across his face. ‘They took the money, they lumbered me with the debt, and then they disappeared. Martin and Peter can burn in hell for all I care.’

Steel blew a lopsided cloud of steam into the drizzle. ‘Any luck?’

‘Nope.’ Rennie checked his phone. ‘Most we’ve got is a couple of outstanding parking tickets, and one guy not allowed within two hundred yards of his ex-wife.’