Стюарт Макбрайд - All That’s Dead

Couldn’t blame him: someone dying in your arms like that? Wasn’t easy. Didn’t matter how much of a scumbag they’d been...

Steel sighed. ‘Aye, Kingy’ll be off spewing his ring again.’ She leaned against the kitchen door frame, half-hanging into the room, frowning at Haiden’s naked corpse. ‘It true they were brother and sister?’

‘Mhari can’t have gone far — Haiden would’ve been...’

Wait a minute, was that an engine revving? It was — coming from the front of the cottage.

Logan marched for the battered-open front door, just in time to see the Audi’s four wheels spinning on the grass, then grabbing hold. The car shot forward with King in the driving seat. ‘Hey!’ He ran outside, waving both arms above his head. ‘COME BACK HERE!’

But the Audi didn’t come back here, it roared away up the track, leaving nothing but a trail of dust behind.

‘Damn it!’ Logan hurried inside.

Steel was thumbing away at something on her phone while Tufty had his head buried in an Oor Wullie annual. The pair of them standing about like the useless sods they were.

‘King’s nicked my car!’ He jabbed a hand at Steel. ‘Give me your keys.’

She didn’t even look up. ‘Aye, that’ll be shining.’

‘Oh for... He’s up to something! He was asking Haiden where the bodies were, then he rushed out of here and stole — my — bloody — car!’

‘Pffff...’ She stuck her phone in her pocket. Then pointed at Tufty. ‘You: Oor Wanky, secure the locus. Pretend you’re a crime-scene manager, or something. No one in or out, access log, blah, blah, blah.’

A grin. ‘Cool.’

Steel cricked her head from side to side, flexing her shoulders as she sauntered for the door. Cracked her knuckles like a concert pianist. Nodded at Logan. ‘Well, come on then. It’s hot pursuit time.’

Keys out, she slid behind the wheel of her MX-5, Logan scrambling into the passenger seat as the engine started with a throaty growl.

‘Right.’ Steel flicked open the car’s roof catch. ‘Before we do this, can you confirm to me that you’re commandeering this vehicle for the benefit of Professional Standards in the pursuance of an ongoing investigation?’

Seriously ?

‘Will you put your foot down?’

She pressed a button on the dashboard, and the folding roof whirred down. ‘And that any damage sustained by my vehicle will be covered and remediated by Police Scotland at their expense?’

‘Yes, fine. Whatever. Now go!’

A grin. ‘Hold tight.’ The Mx-5’s engine bellowed, the rear end slithering from side to side, wheels spinning, like a terrier winding up, then the tyres gripped and the wee car shot forward, hammered between the parked patrol cars, and out onto the dirt track. ‘YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-HAW!’

Fields flashed past the car windows, much faster than they seemed to when Logan was driving. The dust King had kicked up in the Audi was thinning, caught by the offshore breeze, which at least meant they could see where they were going. But, given the way Steel was driving, maybe wasn’t such a great idea.

Logan gritted his teeth, holding onto the seatbelt with one hand and the seat with the other as she threw the car into a warren of tight bends at ludicrous speed. He closed his eyes. Maybe the inevitable crash would hurt less that way?

She shouted at him, over the roar of the engine. ‘Don’t be such a Jessie!’

OK. OK...

He forced his eyes open, dragged out his phone, brought up his contacts list, and called King.

It rang twice, then: ‘What?’

‘What the hell are you playing at? You stole my bloody car!’

‘I’m doing my best, OK? You heard Hardie — I’m treading water with sharks here. I can’t afford to screw this up!’

‘Then don’t be stupid! We’ll—’

‘This is my last chance, Logan. I need this.’

‘You can’t charge off without...’ Logan pulled the phone from his ear and frowned at the screen: ‘CALL ENDED’. Oh no you sodding don’t. He poked the icon to redial.

The MX-5 slithered around a hard right, shoving Logan against the door as the phone rang.

‘Dear God, what now?’

‘What did Haiden tell you? Where are Matt Lansdale and—’

What sounded like a horn blared out from King’s end. ‘Jesus!’

‘Where are—’

A screeching noise.

‘Do you want me to crash your car? Is that what you want?’

‘No!’

‘Then stop calling while I’m driving!’

The MX-5 fishtailed as Steel wrenched them into a sharp left, leaving the tarmac for a moment as they flew over a bump.

Logan jammed his legs against the walls of the footwell, holding himself in place. ‘Don’t be a...’ Complete silence from the other end. When he checked the screen, there it was again: ‘CALL ENDED’. He scowled across the car at Steel. ‘Bloody King keeps hanging up on me.’

She hurled the car around the next bend. The road stretched ahead of them, long and straight. No sign of Logan’s Audi. ‘Ah...’

‘Please don’t tell me you’ve lost him!’

‘I’ve no’ lost -lost him, I just... don’t know where he is. A wee bit.’ Steel hammered it along the straight, worrying at her bottom lip, her frown growing deeper with every small side road they passed. Whin and broom crowded in on either side of the MX-5, blocking out the world.

‘We’re slowing down.’ Logan turned in his seat. ‘ Why are we slowing down?’

‘Could’ve turned off anywhere.’

‘Oh for God’s sake!’

She raised herself in her seat, peering over the top of the windscreen. ‘Can you see him? I can’t see him.’

‘AAAAAAARRRGH!’ Logan stabbed a finger down on the redial button.

It rang as the MX-5 drifted to a halt. Then, ‘You’ve reached Detective Inspector King. I can’t answer the phone right now, so please leave a message.’ Followed by a hard electronic bleeeeeep .

‘WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?’ He hung up and sat there, seething at the gorse-flamed drystane dyke sitting next to the passenger door.

Steel poked him in the shoulder. ‘Do we feel better now, after our little outburst?’

‘No.’ Difficult to imagine what would make him feel better at this point, though forcibly inserting his size nine boot up DI King’s rectum was probably a good start.

‘Out.’ She pulled on the handbrake. ‘Go stand on a wall and see if you can see him.’

Maybe both boots.

Logan climbed out of her car.

The roadside verge was a narrow strip of dry yellow grass, followed by a deep ditch, then the drystane dyke with its crown of Day-Glo-yellow flowers and spiky thorns. About ten foot down the road was a patch of bare stone and he scrambled up onto it.

Fields stretched away on either side of the road, irregular shapes and sizes that followed the features and contours of the land, instead of some ordered grid. On the right, the land fell away to the sea; a thin line of woods to the left; the little granite houses of Cruden Bay, straight ahead. Could see for miles from up here... But there was still no sign of Sodding King and Logan’s Sodding Audi.

Lots of whin and broom, though, the thieving git could be parked up almost anywhere, hidden behind a clump of it. They’d have to search every single road and track to be sure.

Deep breath. ‘AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGH!’

All emptied out, Logan slumped. He clambered his way over to the car and crumpled into the passenger seat.

Steel patted him on the leg. ‘Look on the bright side, Laz: maybe Kingy’s wrapped your car around the arse-end of some teuchter’s tractor and right now he’s little more than a big blubbering sack of bloody mince in a fancy-pants suit.’