Stuart MacBride - In the Cold Dark Ground

He looked away. Fixed his Airwave back on its clip. ‘Sorry I couldn’t get anything out of Laura Welsh.’

‘At least you tried.’ She pursed her lips, frowning as if she could taste something sour. ‘It’ll be over soon. All we need is a result this evening and everything will be fine again.’

Narveer’s voice came over the speakers. ‘ Hold on, we’ve got something. Lights on the water. ’

‘About time!’ She scooted forward and peered out through the windscreen. ‘Can’t see anything.’

‘ Yup, we’ve got visual — small container ship. It’s the Jotun Sverd.’

‘Hallelujah.’ Harper picked up her Airwave from the dashboard. ‘All right, everyone, listen up. We stay put till Malcolm McLennan’s goons offload the cargo. I want them red-handed, so no one moves before it’s all in their vehicle.’

Logan tapped his fingers along the steering wheel. ‘You wouldn’t think the harbour was big enough for a supply boat, would you? Will it even make it through the entrance?’

‘We’ll find out soon enough.’

The ship’s lights appeared through the snow, getting closer.

‘Logan?’ Harper kept her face forward and voice light and neutral. ‘When this is all done, do you want to come visit down in Dumfries? I think Mum would like to meet you.’

‘Erm... yeah, that would be nice.’ Assuming Reuben let him live that long. ‘I’ll need to find someone to look after Cthulhu, though.’

The boat got bigger and bigger, its orange hull standing out against the black water. It was nowhere near as big as the full-sized supply boats — the whole thing would have fitted into a tennis court, with room to spare. Spotlights bathed the small deck in a harsh white glow, picking out four offshore containers with the Geirrød Viking logo on them.

Its engines growled into reverse, slowing the thing to a crawl as it approached the harbour entrance. But instead of trying to squeeze in, the ship swung around, so its stern was facing Gardenstown, then backed up alongside the jutting arm of the sea wall.

One last growl, and the engines fell silent. A couple of men jumped up onto the wall and tied the ship in place.

It wouldn’t have been much use on a stormy night, but with the sea like a slab of dark marble, it would be good enough for offloading, even if it did block the harbour entrance.

Harper rubbed her hands together. ‘Not long now.’

‘Where the hell are they?’ Harper checked her watch again. ‘It’s been twenty minutes.’

‘Maybe they’re struggling through traffic somewhere? You know what it’s like when it snows — everyone drives like tortoises.’

She puffed out her cheeks. ‘Tell everyone to check in again. McLennan’s men have to be somewhere .’

Logan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and scowled out at the falling snow. Reuben was out there right now, plotting. Planning his revenge.

Question was: when?

Tomorrow? The day after? A week from now?

Tonight?

The flakes glowed for a moment as they passed through the sphere of yellow cast by the bulkhead light fixed to the building next to the Big Car. Then faded to blue-grey again.

Might be an idea to not be at home when he turned up. Maybe he could beg a bed at Calamity’s? Or Tufty’s parents’ house?

Or he could appropriate one of the cells in the station. Wasn’t as if anyone used them these days.

Cthulhu would hate it, but it was better than the alternative: the pair of them waking up at four in the morning to find three figures in ski masks looming over the bed with sawn-off shotguns and machetes.

Or they could get a B-and-B sorted for the night. Get another one for the night after that. And another after that. Keep moving so no one knew where they were.

On the run from now till Reuben’s thugs caught up with him.

‘Logan?’

‘Hmm?’ He blinked. Turned.

Harper was staring at him. ‘If you don’t stop drumming your fingers, I’m going to break them. OK?’

He took his hands off the wheel. ‘Sorry.’

Harper sagged in the passenger seat. ‘This whole thing’s a complete disaster, isn’t it?’

‘Give it time.’

‘Gah.’ She took her watch off and placed it on the dashboard, in a tiny sliver of streetlight. ‘Forty minutes. They should have been here, unloaded, and gone by now.’

True.

Logan shrugged. ‘They might be playing it cautious. Scoping out the harbour, making sure there’s nothing suspicious going on. Or maybe they’re running a bit late?’

Or maybe he’d been right in the first place, and this was all a set-up.

He looked across the car at Harper.

Yeah, probably best to keep that to himself.

‘I told you so,’ probably wouldn’t go down too well.

Steel’s voice growled out of the speaker. ‘ Aye, no offence, Super, but are we planning on spending the night here? Cos if we are I want a sexy WPC instead of Spaver McFartypants. ’

Harper picked up her Airwave. ‘This channel is for operational use only .’ She pinched the bridge of her nose and screwed her eyes shut. ‘Is DI Steel always this much work?’

‘Pretty much.’ Logan set the windscreen wipers going again, clearing two lopsided grey rainbows through the snow. Nothing had changed — the Jotun Sverd still sat at the harbour entrance, all lights blazing like an industrial Christmas ornament. ‘We should’ve brought a Thermos of tea.’

Logan sat forward in his seat, arms on the steering wheel. ‘Maybe we need to go back to the idea that we’re being screwed with.’

Harper reclined her seat and stared up at the ceiling. ‘Do you have any idea how much this operation is costing?’

‘It was always a bit too obvious, wasn’t it? Shepherd’s body is left lying about for us to find, it leads us to Martin Milne, which leads us to the money they owed, which leads us here.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s like someone’s handed us a join-the-dots picture and left us to get on with it.’

‘Only the picture’s a great big knob, wearing a police hat.’

‘So what do you want to do?’

She scowled. ‘Kick Martin Milne in the balls. Hard .’

Logan fiddled with his Airwave, taking it off the closed channel and back onto the normal one. ‘Sergeant McRae to Control. Have we got any suspicious activity reported in B Division tonight?’

A man’s voice crackled back. ‘ How suspicious is suspicious? ’

It would be something big, if it needed a distraction this size. ‘Banks, building societies, anywhere you’d get a big financial score. Luxury car showrooms, that kind of thing? It’ll be nowhere near Gardenstown.’

Harper clapped her hands over her face. ‘I’m going to look like a proper moron if they clear out a bank while I’m sat here twiddling my thumbs with twenty officers and a dog team.’

‘ Hud on, I’ll have a lookie. ’

The Jotun Sverd just sat there, all bright lights and shiny paintwork.

‘Do you think Milne knows? I mean, he had to arrange the boat.’ Logan frowned. ‘But they had to pick up the stuff from a yacht... Why go to all that trouble?’

‘ Aye, Sergeant McRae? No sign of anything suspicious reported. You want me to give you a shout if something comes in? ’

‘Thanks.’ He switched his handset to the operation’s channel again, then settled back in his seat to wait.

‘ DS McKenzie: no movement. ’

Logan wiped the windscreen. Still nothing.

Harper had the seat all the way back now. ‘They’re not coming, are they?’

He checked his watch. ‘Twenty to eight.’

‘Argh. Nearly two hours late. Why would you set all this up and not turn up for two hours?’ She reached into her jacket and pulled out her phone, dialling without sitting up. ‘Hello, Narveer?... Yes... Not a thing... Yeah, I’m coming to that conclusion as well... OK... We’ll give it till eight — if nothing’s doing by then, we’re going in. At least tonight won’t be a complete bust... Yeah, OK. Bye.’ She put her phone away and glanced across the car at Logan. ‘You get the gist?’