Stuart MacBride - The Missing and the Dead

She stepped into the room. Flashed her warrant card. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Steel.’ She pointed at Logan and Nicholson, then at the shaking man. ‘Get him out of here.’

Sunlight bathed the back garden, making the grass and shrubs glisten impossibly green. Logan sat on the top step of a section of decking, Airwave pressed to his ear. Other hand massaging his forehead. Doing nothing to shift the rusty tin cans rattling about behind his eyes.

‘Do I make myself clear?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘I will not have you trying to circumvent my Major Investigation Team. And if I hear you’ve been bothering DI Porter again-’

‘I didn’t …’ What was the point? ‘Yes, sir.’

‘You will stay away from Operation Troposphere, or by God I’ll make you wish you had.’

‘Operation Troposphere?’

A couple of gardens over, a dog barked, setting off a chain reaction further down the road. A staccato rhythm with lawnmower solo and the shrieking chorus of happy children.

‘Yes, Operation Troposphere. You really think you know best, because you stumbled across the drugs in the first place? Well, you don’t. And what the hell were you thinking, calling it Operation Schofield? Anyone with half a brain could connect that to someone called “Kevin the Gerbil”. Were you trying to get him killed?’

‘No, sir. It-’

‘This is why we use random name generators, Sergeant , to prevent stupid cock-ups like that. It’s not your investigation any more. All aspects of Operation Troposphere are off limits.’

Deep breath. One last go. ‘Sir, with all due respect, we’ll have to deal with the fall-out on the ground. If there’s a major influx of drugs on the way to Banff, we need to know what we-’

‘No you don’t. I decide what you need to know, Sergeant. And right now you need to mind your own business. Keep your nose out of my investigation!’

Silence from the handset.

Logan checked the display — Detective Chief Inspector McInnes had gone.

A long, slow breath hissed out between gritted teeth. ‘Up yours, sir .’ He twisted the Airwave handset back onto its mount. Turned to face the kitchen.

Nicholson had her back to him in the kitchen window. Behind her, the top of a grey-haired head was just visible above the sill. Probably sitting at the kitchen table trying to justify the whole thing. Alex was sorry. Alex didn’t mean it. Alex wouldn’t ever do it again. They loved each other.

Right up till the time one of them ended up in the hospital or the cemetery.

No wonder so many police officers drank.

Logan let himself in the back door. Leaned on the working surface. ‘Well?’

The floor was littered with broken crockery and spilled cutlery. Rorschach inkblots spattered the walls, marking the death-throes of half a dozen bottles and jars. Their shattered glass corpses lay slumped on the floor below.

Nicholson pulled her face into a grimace. ‘Usual. Started off with an argument over who was going to get voted off The Voice tonight, ended up with threats to kill.’

The door through to the hall crashed open and Steel stomped in. Scowled. Pointed a finger at the figure slumped at the table. ‘Think yourself lucky, sunshine. See if I have to come back here?’ She slammed her palm down on the tabletop.

He flinched, covered his head with his hands. ‘I’m so sorry …’

‘You’re on your final warning.’ Steel snapped her fingers. ‘Tweedle Dum, Tweedle Dee — we’re out of here.’ No one moved. ‘ Now! ’

Logan and Nicholson followed her down the hallway.

The door to the living room was still open. A broken coffee table. A picture ripped from the wall. A small figure curled on the edge of the couch, watching as they passed, her eye well on its way from red to black.

Logan stepped out through the front door and closed it behind him.

Nicholson sniffed. ‘Bloody disaster. Next time it’s going to be all ambulances and trauma teams.’

‘Tell me about it.’

Steel was halfway to the car, puffing away on her e-cigarette when she stopped, turned and jabbed a fist at the house. ‘Makes me want to scream .’

‘So why didn’t we arrest-’

‘How could she no’ want to press charges? What the goat-buggering hell is wrong with her?’

Logan pulled his chin in. ‘What?’

‘But it’s OK, because they love each other. Well, that’s all right then, isn’t it?’ Steel kicked the head off a scarlet rose growing in the front border. An explosion of blood drops drifted to the ground. ‘You don’t put up with that crap, OK? You don’t!’

Logan took a step towards her. Frowning. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘The bastard hit her!’ The e-cigarette’s end glowed fierce and cold. ‘But don’t you worry, I had a good long chat with her. Told her: no one gets to treat her like that. See if it was me, I’d hack the bastard’s balls off with a rusty spoon.’

The frown slipped. ‘You did what ?’

Nicholson swallowed. ‘Oh God …’

Steel kicked the head off another rose. ‘How can a grown man do that to a wee girl?’

‘WHAT?’ Logan stared back at the house. ‘You told her to hack …? No, no, no, no, no!’

Nicholson was already sprinting up the path. She barged past him and grabbed the door handle, yanked it up and down. ‘It’s locked!’

Steel stared at them both from the pavement. ‘What the hell are you pair playing at? I sorted it.’

Logan snapped out his extendable baton. ‘Alex Williams isn’t the old man, it’s her , you idiot. She’s been in and out of prison for domestic assault ever since she was sixteen, and you told her to hack her partner’s balls off!’

Muffled screams came from somewhere inside.

Steel’s mouth fell open. The e-cigarette tumbled from between her lips and clattered against the paving slabs. ‘Don’t just stand there, kick the bloody door in!’

The siren drowned out the voice on the other end of the phone, then the ambulance engine roared and it was off, blue lights flashing.

Logan turned his back on the noise. ‘Sorry, I didn’t get that, Derek. Can you repeat?’

A sigh. ‘I said, there’s no sign of her. Border Agency have got no record of her passport being scanned on the way out of the country. Theoretically, she could have travelled to another EU country using her driving licence as photo ID and flown out from there, but there’s no record of an Electronic Travel Authority being issued to let her into Australia.’

Alex Williams stared out at him from the back of the Big Car, wearing a black eye and a pout. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it’ll never happen again. We love each other.

‘So Kevin Spinney’s mother never went to Australia.’

‘Not unless she’s got forged papers, no. Now, I think I’ve fulfilled my obligation, don’t you?’

‘Thanks, Derek.’

‘Don’t mention it. Please. Don’t mention it to anyone.’ He hung up.

Steel grumbled her way out of the house, on the phone to someone. ‘No, it … She shouldn’t have been let out in the first place. The team here did everything they could.’ Steel looked up and scanned the road. Neighbours stood behind a cordon of ‘POLICE’ tape, all having a good gawp at the house and its uniformed comings and goings. Then Steel must’ve spotted Logan, because she waved and marched over. ‘Yes, sir. … I’m sure it will … Thank you, sir.’ She slid the phone into an inside pocket. Grimaced. Stood right next to him and lowered her voice to barely a murmur. ‘We are royally screwed soon as anyone finds out.’