Stuart MacBride - In the Cold Dark Ground

Harper ignored her, pointing a finger at Narveer instead. ‘What about the logs?’

He checked his notebook. ‘GPS says they never went anywhere near where Milne said the yacht would be. Assuming there ever was a yacht. And there’s CCTV on all decks too — they didn’t rendezvous with anything.’

‘BLOODY HELL!’ She gripped the console, shoulders hunched. Hissed out a breath. ‘Options?’

Narveer sighed. ‘Think we’re going to have to take this one on the chin. We were working on information we believed to be reliable. It’s not our fault.’

‘Oh aye, the top brass will buy that.’ Steel gave him a cheery grin. ‘Known for their understanding nature are our glorious overlords.’

Logan stepped up beside Harper. ‘What if Malcolm McLennan was telling the truth at Hamish Mowat’s funeral and his people had nothing to do with Shepherd’s death? What if it was Martin Milne all along?’

She turned and stared at him. ‘So, what: you were right in the first place?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Narveer, send everyone home. And tell the captain his boss won’t be turning up this evening, because he’s going to be in a sodding police cell.’ She turned and marched towards the door. ‘Sergeant McRae, you’re with me.’

Logan gave Narveer a shrug, then hurried after Harper, out into the snow, zipping up his high-viz jacket and pulling on his peaked cap.

McKenzie was down on the main deck, wandering back and forth in front of the containers, mobile phone clamped to her ear, breath trailing along behind her in the frigid air.

‘Sir?’ Logan reached out and grabbed Harper’s arm. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be taking DI Singh with you? He is your sidekick, after all.’

‘Narveer is a big boy, Sergeant, believe me, he’ll be fine. Which is more than I can say for Martin Milne.’ She climbed down the stairs to the main deck. ‘Grab DS McKenzie. Tell her I want Milne’s house locked down tighter than a pair of cycling shorts.’

‘Sir.’

She clambered up onto the dockside and stamped through the snow to the Big Car.

McKenzie was staring up at him, still on the phone, wearing an expression that suggested she’d just stepped in something.

Logan picked his way down the stairs, the metal treads clanging beneath his feet. ‘Becky?’ He pointed at the Big Car. ‘Harper needs you: we’re pulling Martin Milne.’

She put a hand over the bottom of her phone. ‘Why me? Robertson’s on babysitting duty.’

‘Because you ran the team looking after him. She wants a full lockdown till we get there.’

Her eyes narrowed. Then she went back to her phone call, turning her back on him and keeping her voice down.

‘Sometime tonight would be good, Becky. You know what detective superintendents are like if you keep them waiting.’ He crossed the deck and climbed up onto the harbourside. Stood there until she finished her call, and joined him.

Her curly brown hair was flecked with snow. ‘This has been a complete cocking farce.’

‘Yup, and now we get to go apportion blame.’ He climbed into the Big Car and started the engine. Set the blowers on full to clear the fogged-up windscreen.

McKenzie slipped into the back. Pulled out her Airwave. ‘DS Robertson, safe to talk?’

‘ Fit like, Becky? How’d the swoop go, you get them? ’

‘Shut up and listen. I need a sit-rep on the Milne house.’

‘ All present and correct: no one in or out. No sign of any suspicious vehicles in the area. ’

‘They up and doing?’

‘ Lights are on, but the curtains are drawn. Think they’re watching telly and trying to kid on he never shagged his business partner. ’

‘Good. Keep them on lockdown, we’re paying a visit.’ McKenzie put her handset away. ‘Everything’s set.’

Harper nodded. ‘Thank you.’ Then frowned. ‘Is there something else?’

She clicked on her seatbelt. ‘Thought I’d tag along for the ride.’

‘I think Sergeant McRae and I can handle it.’

‘Sure you can.’ A cold, unpleasant smile uncoiled across her face. ‘But I wasted days looking after Milne, and if the wee sod’s screwed us over I want to be there when he gets his collar felt. And if we’re really lucky, he’ll resist arrest for a bit first.’

‘Fair enough.’ Harper pointed at the windscreen as the fog finally cleared. ‘Let’s go see what he has to say for himself.’

Logan did a five-point turn, keeping their speed to a crawl and steering well clear of the sudden drop into the dark water. As they faced the right way, a set of blue flashing lights appeared on the road above the harbour, working its way down. ‘Sir?’

She reached across the car and put a hand on his arm. ‘Hold it here for a minute.’

The car got closer, then disappeared behind a squat row of cottages, before emerging again, driving onto the dock. It stopped beside the Big Car, and the driver’s window buzzed down. Logan buzzed his down too.

Oh no.

Napier looked up at him. ‘Sergeant McRae.’

Not now. Not here .

‘Chief Superintendent.’

‘Tell me, is Detective Chief Inspector Steel available?’ He wasn’t smiling. Wasn’t rubbing his hands with glee. Instead his shoulders drooped, mouth pulled down at the edges, a slightly pained expression on his face. ‘I’m afraid I need a word.’

‘She’s on the ship.’

‘I see.’ He bit his bottom lip and frowned for a moment. Then nodded. ‘Thank you, Sergeant.’

The window buzzed up and the patrol car pulled forward a dozen feet, until it was alongside the boat.

‘All right, Sergeant, we can go now.’

‘Actually,’ Logan unclipped his seatbelt, ‘I’ll only be a minute, OK?’ He scrambled out of the Big Car, and picked his way through the snow to the patrol car as two of Napier’s colleagues boarded the Jotun Sverd , leaving their boss on the dockside. ‘Sir?’

Napier turned and nodded at him. ‘Not the best of days, Logan. Not the best.’

‘What’s going to happen to her?’

‘We found a flash drive covered in her fingerprints. It’s got exactly the same set of images she discovered on Jack Wallace’s laptop. The “last modified” dates match.’ The tip of Napier’s nose was already going red. ‘A report has been submitted to the Procurator Fiscal.’

‘They’re going to prosecute?’ Logan marched off a couple of paces, then back again. ‘But she’s—’

‘This isn’t what I wanted, Logan, it really, really isn’t. Every time I have to arrest a fellow officer...’ He sighed, the breath turning into a cloud. ‘Well, there you go. That’s my problem, isn’t it?’

‘What’s going to happen to her?’

Napier wiped flecks of snow from the shoulders of his black police-issue fleece. ‘She’ll be charged with perverting the course of justice. Jack Wallace will be released from prison and his conviction quashed. In all likelihood, he’ll sue Police Scotland and win. And the next time he rapes someone we’ll have to start all over again, but it’ll be three hundred percent more difficult because his lawyers will be screaming “harassment”.’ Napier shook his head. ‘This is why we have rules , Logan.’

Up on the boat, Steel emerged from the bridge, slouching along with her hands in her pockets, e-cigarette poking out of the side of her mouth. Napier’s people were behind her. No handcuffs, no frogmarching.

Napier patted Logan on the shoulder. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t be here for this bit.’

No matter what the cost.

The two officers helped Steel up onto the dockside, then stood back.